Thursday, December 3, 2009

The thaw...

The thaw... something to look forward to even before the freeze

Like ice on mountains - melting... spinning down, losing impurities in mineral rocks as gravity pulls it down

I want my life to drip down to it's simplest form... I will be there at the bottom raising my glass

It's then I can finally climb the honest climb

It's then I can finally stop holding back

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

chemical addictions

I need to accept you as my on again off again best friend (forever)
I need to stop letting it fuck me up each time the table turns
And I thought that was my great accomplishment the last spin around... and then here you are again - sitting on the porch of my heart - as beautifully fucked up as ever
And then I realize... I too am beautifully fucked up despite my many attempts to fight such facts
And then I realize... I am more together than I have ever given myself credit
My bounceback time gets faster every time... and my feet are more solid on the ground.
I love you but love means less to me each and every day.
Love is a chemical inbalance - and I have left behind chemical addictions.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Dressed Down Daily

There are no true faces behind this screen of glowing success...
Unsatisfied. Unwilling to settle. Unwilling to meet the social standards.
Unwilling to... DRESS UP and GET OUT THERE!

And you don't even know who I am...
And I don't even know who I want to be.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Picture Perfect

I am beyond overwhelmed and it's fucking overwhelming
I am always without enough time
Without time to myself...
It is constant... I am in the constant forward motion
Moving so quickly - too quickly to appreciate each day
So this is success? This is where all my hard work has gotten me... more work?
I sigh close to constantly because hell, I'm "making art"
But who fucking cares if I'm on to the next piece before I can even admire works past
Who fucking cares is it's mass produced and making me money
Who fucking cares?

I need an assistant - a mini me... but no one can be me and do what I do
I can't sacrifice this work - my art - my art of finding more work and more art to make
Overwhelmed and waiting...
I wish I could sit back and watch this fall into my tired lap...
But good comes to those who work and I am sure this is good
Everyone tells me it's great!

I want to marry rich so I can make art more slow...
But I want to be alone - I want to be alone.
I want love to find me and to nurture me and my art.
I want love to leave me alone for days, no(!) - weeks at a time... upon every request.
You may want me to live and breath for you... but my life is just pictures...
I'll love all your pictures...

...just lend me picture perfect days?

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Submission

Beat me into submission
I have been beat
I am tired and too shifty to grasp you and pull you back to the surface
To swim myself towards the light
I'll let you drown --- looking for someone to pull me up this time
I am exhausted by my own constant domination
I want to be a submarine
I want to drift with the tide until someone makes me a wave
I want to be held down by my throat... pin me to the bed until I come to my senses during those classic irrational female moments I hate admitting I have
Tell me what to do and when to do it... just for one day
Be MY lifesaver - Be MY supervisor
MY controller, my go to guy, my "it's in your best interest", my conscience of what is right and wrong... and someone tell ME when it is time...


...because it is time... and I am too tired to see this- clearly... but I am sure it's clear as day...


It's time...

to go.. to sink.. to float.. to stop struggling to save someone else

Saturday, October 24, 2009

love! at last!

I found love in the ending once again...
It's never new beginnings.


Life just drones on and I couldn't be happier thinking about this ending...
I couldn't feel more free. I couldn't feel more love right now... bubbling up inside... a love for a life of nothing... no drama, no lover, no future to care for and tend to... nothing all laid out neatly... no more tip toeing around in fear of creasing or unfolding or disturbing... anything.


It's never new beginnings... it's just the beginning to yet another end. This is where I find my comfort... and this is the moment that I learn... if you start nothing new... THIS END will last forever... this feeling will never die.


Love! At last!

Thursday, October 22, 2009

without the time

i have no time for these distractions... my head is spinning with things to do and places to be
there is always some kind of work that needs to be done
color me numb again and again... because numbness enhances my ability to get shit done
and there's a lot to get done......
and my life is too full of obligations; to produce good product again and again
maybe i'll see you while on vacation... if vacation days ever do come
maybe i'll meet you on the subway and we can talk from point A to point B
in between obligations and appointments and the expectations of others...
again and again and again

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

There's so much I want to *not* say right now... to you. to anyone, really.

But I still like you and I don't want to. He was wrong... so wrong about you... why did I listen? Why did I invent that enemy in you? How could I be so easily fooled...? Mistaken completely about who was what exactly....

I traded something for nothing. I wish I could tell you that. You were really something.

Wasted and Sober

Your hands whisper... something I'll never hold... your breath
I hold my breath for you... when I'm sleeping... when I'm crying

And I wonder how it would be if I obtained the nothingness I long for...
Because you remind me that I'm nothing...
(...but i already knew that)

Inhale me, exhale me... spew my age out onto my face, rub it in
Remind me of the lines fading in and out... all the time I'm wasting...

...all the time I've wasted.......... on you.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Tragically Hideous

People like you offend real cutters who have lived and witnessed real tragedy first hand. A sad sorry excuse for a tormented soul... trying way too hard to be something you'll never be... that in itself is a tragedy. Perhaps this is the way you'll succeed? Inflicting yourself with artificial misery?

Naive arrogance in high heeled shoes --- soon to be walking the heels flat --- homeless once again.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Witness Protection Program

I have seen things I was never meant to see... too much blood to speak of... in my time here... and there... (because I get around...) oh yes!

I have heard things and spoken words that should have never fallen on human ears... I should just save it all for the squirrels... my secrets are safe with them and they handle truth well...

I have connected souls that should have never been connected... and ruined lives and taken the virginity of my best friend using the body of very awful boy. And others wear life-long scars and others are slowly suffocating but don't yet realize it and then others are being used as mere bodies in the flesh... all because of my very poor judgment in character and my endless hope and faith that other people can be like me... can be sincere and conscious... and treats hearts like fragile porcelain...

I am a ruiner of all things loved due to my hope in just that- love. I dare you to say otherwise. I dare you to make just arguments about such matters... because my actions can't be justified... due to these endless and haunting results.

I want to binge and purge my truth into voided mud holes free of hearts and minds and ears and skin. I want to free you all of the pain I've caused using my best intentions as my sharpest weapon. All the pain I am still causing and watching slowly happen...

If everyone could be honest... I could relax. If I could become a liar... I could sleep sound at night... with nothing keeping my mind a chaotic collection of secrets meant to be spoken loud...

And I scream into a deep dark nothing... and I sit silent... in everyone else's blood... staining my body red.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

the day she retired

I miss the day before my heart and mouth went poison... not even a kiss is needed to strike one dead... because my words are deadly and I seem to feed on the dying... or at least, I did.

And now the negativity is sauntering off like a dim short sound wave in the background. And I am grasping my own hand and my own heart again... getting further from my lost self and finding my footing once again...

But I miss the certain gray areas surrounding the days before his return... before her return...

And I am uncertain about a lot of things still... I'm just feeling less insane... that's the only thing that has changed really.

And I can feel people slipping from my hands... like sand - no matter how hard you grip... eventually the last grain will fall to the floor and be swept out to sea. And I can see... it happening.. right now.

And I think I am losing, but I no longer feel lost. I am merely background noise these days... and I think I might be happy with this. I want everyone happy... with or without me. I am destined to spend this long short life alone... and I am fine with this... I am fine.

It's a matter of lacking a certain care I used to be too full of. That constant need to protect everyone... to love everyone to my fullest capability... that constant forgetting about myself.

And still I forget sometimes... when I'm spinning too quickly. But there is work to be done... and in love, I am done. I can't protect that which longs to lack protection and refuses to embrace my care. And with this I am less sensitive. I am less a person, perhaps... but I've always been far too intense, truly... so this must be for the best.

Emotions no longer rule me. I am production. A product of what I once was.

But it's that I am missing... your arms and words... and your conversations (because I went crazy)... and the art of being enthralling to more than one person... to anyone at all.

I am lack luster despite some arguments on the topic in my nearest past. I ruined everything with my mouth... feeding it liquor and spewing out words so irrational and overly-emotional. I ruined everything with my hands... on your body, on my body, on metal against metal pulling at my blood. I wish I would have choked on my words and slowly bled to death with kind regards to my hands and sharp objects... but I'm still here, more so in the background than ever before...

So...

I have stopped spinning. I sit here still and silent. I am the retired ruiner.

Monday, August 3, 2009

i stumble in my head

this home lacks a certain southern hospitality... makes me long for further south locations and hotter nights and happy hearts i once knew so well

and i scrub the floors and my body raw... discontent and disconnected
everything is changing as everything changes and you're still the same
and i'm suddenly more lost than ever before

i spin myself stupid to watch my skirt rise and fall in the waves of air i create with my body
my pretty distraction has dissipated... perhaps the sun has turned it to dust, or my mouth has turned it to newer interests
all i have is myself and my skirt and my hands and my constant need to scrub until my bones are exposed and bloody
it doesn't feel like much

i can paint a smile on my face to hide from society... everything inside me
but i don't much feel the need these days... i don't much feel like anyone or anything
it's like i'm dead or dying... but it's really hard to tell
i can stand up straight and walk one foot after the other... but i stumble in my head

...and i'm ready to go

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Gone in distant sounds...

I don't know where this is going... I just know I'm gone...
And you stand there with your hands full of nothing and watch me as I go.
I guess your body is too full of importance to set that void down for a moment... your life's too full of empty words to think to follow me home.

And there you are with nothing... and no one
And here I am... with distance and blatant scars and gaping wounds
And there is no one there to fill you... and no one here to clean my wounds

So you sit there confused as I sit here infected... and this is really one big dead end(!)
The end of the empire of you and me.
The end of comfort and that chance of meaning something to someone.
((Meaning something vs. meaning nothing... nothing will prevail!))

And I can drink until I bleed... and yes, you will still water me
You like to watch me wilt... or maybe you just care too little to even see the pedals falling
You hand me pockets full of razors... and you haven't a single clue because you care not check them before you hand them over

And you cry. And I laugh. And you laugh. And I cry.
This cycle is so insane... like a metal record skipping... tormented screams are not lining up or even remotely coming together.

So you edit in the other room... and I sit and slam these keys with very little grace.
And I wonder why you came here. And I wonder why I hold you... after I make you cry.
And I wonder why I am still here. And I wonder why you hold me... after you make me cry.

Tragedy makes for an interesting ending for any old 'typical' love-lost story. And this tragedy is mine.

Friday, July 24, 2009

spinal tap

inject me with your safety
i miss the comfort of things i haven't had in forever

i missed the comfort around uncomfortable arms
i missed faces and places and times gone past

i am missing the time that will come to me with each breath
i exhale and never breath in ... anymore... these days

these days come and go and i say at noon, "i will look at those in the morning"
what day is it...? what time will the sun finally sink and hide it's ugly face?

i want to be alone in darkness until you arrive to help me properly medicate
until you remove the sharp objects from my hands and smile with your whole heart
you never look down on me for these moments...
i always look down. i collect rocks and all things heavy. it's sometimes hard to walk.

why would you put up with this, ever?
why would you love something so hideous?
why are you still here?

spinning sober

I cut myself last night and the blood was so thin from wine that I bled sheer water.
I've never been so scared. I've never been so satisfied.
I destroyed everything in my path until I reached an almost instant calm...
Looking back at my destruction was like this squeezing ache up in my heart.

So much blood from three small slices.
So little words to cause such silence.

These scares will be forever... like the forever motion of my storm inside.
And I spin, and I spin, and I spin around you.
And I spin, and I spin, and I spin around me.
And I'd love, nothing more... to simply say I'm sorry.
But I'm still drunk--- hours later--- and I'm not.

---------------------

These moments of destruction are what define me.
These moments of destruction are so far from me, being me.
I always say, "I don't need saving..." (but possibly, I do?)

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

watching you deflate

(This was actually written 7-22-2009... I never really had the balls to post it publically until now... because of how personal it felt. But at the time being, it is very relavant to my last few blogs and is interesting to me because of how the last "almost year" has brought me back to nearly the same point.)



-start-

you can be so demeaning... i'm not even sure what i see, or saw... sometimes.. a lot(!)
and you have your excuses for such words... and i have my reasons for honesty... and for hiding... and for not hitting back... when hit

i could chew you into pieces... i could tear you apart from the inside out... but i think personal flaws make us human... make us beautiful

and still you pick pick pick at me and you swear it's not what you're doing... and i am finding i only miss your "company"... i only miss having an object of affection... i really don't miss being spoken to as if i were a child... because you are not fucking me and until otherwise it's really just crass, or obnoxious... and i need not lose my footing for guys like you... unless my feet are up in the air and I am bursting with orgasm... then you can demean me all you want and I promise you I might just like it.

where do you live, dear?
where do i live?
where do you work, dear?
where do i work?

there have been times i have longed to get on a bus, show up on your doorstep and bare my breasts... to show you i am a woman, grown... to show you that i am not as helpless as i sometimes like to pretend.. to show you that despite my falling apart i am SO WELL together that it's almost sickening and you would be shocked... and you are shocked(!) and sick by it...

practice makes perfect

watch me self destruct
watch me closely, but don't stand too near to me
explosive and bubbling over
spilling onto the floor... spilling onto myself... and you... and her
and i want to take your picture
and i want to make you something you are not
paint your face with powder so pale and liner so dark
and we dance way past midnight but we don't even talk
hands on smooth skin that belongs to myself
pressed against empty pants and voided lips
and we dance to the sounds of self destruction...
and we spin and we spin and we spin...
can't wait to fall down. can't wait to be done.
the dance is soon to be over... let me leave you dizzy - confused
when did the music stop?
when did she self destruct?

Sunday, July 12, 2009

inhaling sand that should be you

I am paying my dues to the sun
burn me... melt me away
Lose me in the arid lands of red
so far from the sea
I dream of throwing more than airplanes off those cliffs
my favorite heels and real close calls
I wonder how fast my body would fall
how hard it would hit
how good it would feel
how free from wonder one could be... or not be...
I long to learn again, the feeling of being up so fucking high
reaching for stars and answers
falling from heights to a cold hard death once I finally find them

Can you hear me?

I am screaming into silent nights...
Can you hear me as my hand slips and my fingers squeeze her throat.

It takes 2 women to replace you and I've never even met you... what does this say to you, about you? to me? about me?

Hands in hands... soft and small... hands on my legs and breasts and thighs and... oh my(!)

So why are you on my mind? I have eyes of blue and green surrounding me... shots fed to me... love handed over like candy... so simple and sweet. So why the same strange taste in my mouth? Why is something clearly missing in my mind that wanders?

I don't know. Just fuck it away. Just lay my head in someone's lap and let them dread my hair as they rub my pain away.... never stop.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Just another learning experience...

You've taught me nothing, and everything at once.
I learn to unlearn and re-learn forgotten lessons.
No more trust. No more weakness. No more... anything...
I was always better when I was comfortable with the nothingness I hold.
I hold my head up and look you in the eyes. I don't see you. I see my reflection...
My face and mind reflecting on the days...
When I was happily lost...
And again I am happy. I am glad that someone showed me... not to trust a soul... again and again.

Make this lesson stick this time.
Fuck what you have said or done or haven't done... it doesn't matter.
It does not matter when nothing matters(!)
You say you want something... I hand it to you and you drop it on the ground.
It shatters... I don't even flinch.
It was nothing. Nothing important... inside me.

I am happy. Fancy free... free of care, thus free from harm.
And this razor feels familiar dragging up each arm.
The joy inside me lies to my heart... sending throbbing signals like this never ended.
The last few weeks - the last few months... never really happened.
The scars never faded... like you faded... and you fade.

I cannot open you.
I cannot see you.
I cannot feel you.
I cannot taste you.
I cannot see your blood.

Paler than ever now... almost transparent...
The scars never faded... like you faded... and you fade.... away.
You fade away and I laugh until it hurts.

Thank you kindly... sweet remembrance. A little messenger... a little reminder... in the misleading shape of a heart.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

A Time For Change

I am ready to remove myself from any pecking order... start a new line... and yes, you can follow-

but only if you want to. Only if you know how hungry I am.Only if you want to be my food.
Because I have spent these years starving... letting others feed off of me.And then my eyes were opened and just then I saw nothing standing before me.... grasping for a face I'll never know, or see.

But I now have my vision and my hunger is still a rage... I am ready to reverse these roles. I am ready to eat your heart out.... catch me if you dare.

(product product: when bringing out someone's sensitivity and value goes terribly wrong)

Sunday, July 5, 2009

I have never...

I have never.
I have been more alone than this.
But still...
I wish for sleep that's never ending.
I wish for a coma nap to never wake from.
I wish for the pulsating pain inside my brain to explode...
Destroy me... let my face match my mind... match my soul

And you left... but not forever?
Yes. Whatever you say dear... you were gone before I found you.
No more breathing life back into corpses.
I have never felt alone like this... it's different.
I feel free. No pressure.

I can finally fade.
No more need for me to save you.
And no need to save myself.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Run

don't let your heart hurt now
i am so discouraged - i am sickened by it
i am in a fog or in a clearing - swinging back and forth about you
and what i should do with you
and who i am because of you
and whether or not i really really love you

but you are my best distant friend
and i want nothing but to fill you up with hope
and i want nothing but to show you some true beauty
...but i cannot offer what's not inside me

and your silence kills and your sorrow fills the air with mercy
can't you just get cut a break?
please, give me a break...

Can unhappiness really break us?
Yes. Yes it can...
So let's do something about this.
Let's stop swinging... land in the clearing... hold hands and fucking run(!)



Best friends forever... when you fall, I fall.

Ruler

I think that I've been pretty much ruled out as an option
I measure up less, a little more... each time

And you know what, that's fine.
Completely and totally fine... in away it's frighteningly familiar
The heat rolls in and the ice comes back
Global warming or ice age? Both go hand in hand...

Hand in hand... holding hands
Much like we've never done... but always do, but never will
Understand
Understand this about me...

I am your greatest disappointment.
You are my greatest fear.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

something's missing

I miss my mother.
I miss her touch and laugh and absolute cuteness.
I cry every time I consider the fact that I am unable to visit her.
I am a puddle every time I think about what the world will look like, taste like, smell like, feel like... without her.
But I am without her. The world tastes of lemons.
I am bitter. I am cold and confused.
I cry behind a windshield that rain beads off of and I apologize.
I am so sorry I am such a mess.
I am so sorry it's happening like this.
I am so sorry you can see my tears... and I flinched at every passing car!
and I gasp when someone passes too close!
and I sneeze at red-light-close-calls and I clasp my chest in horror
And I am truly horrified that it's all happening like this...
My world is fading not all to far away... I can see the sun get dimmer daily...
But I can hear her voice.
Christmas is bound to be lonely this year... alone in Philadelphia.
No need to go back home.
And I will have regrets... I should have just played dead.
My world is tearing apart from within my chest and I am already juggling organs just to keep them at arms length.
I lose everything... but I never thought I'd lose you.

Monday, June 22, 2009

fix this

what is my fucking problem...
can someone please tell me... the secrets to make this all work

how did i become so broken by the ring of a phone?
one phone call - and i'm all out of wack

and i'm spinning so quickly
communication used to be my strongest suit

what do you do when the biggest part of your heart is 30 miles away, dying.. and you can't even go to her and you can't act like it's not killing you, but you do.

and words come so awkwardly
and feelings feel worse
and maybe i'm not ready for feeling
maybe it's easier to remain numb

so should i avoid the heat and warmth?
stay closer to things that will never care?
so that i never care? or never show that i care?

maybe the circular motion of the water content of my body will settle once it is turned back to ice. it's always so freezing. i'm always so cold now. and your heat creates steam... and it's fogging my view.

and i am trying to wipe the glass of my eyes clean... but i struggle
but you can't see it from over there
i just seem like an asshole

...but that's just because i am

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

smile

I do this thing when I'm talking to you
lit by merely a screen
I press my fingers to my lips and smile
how are you so well together
I just want to touch your face
nothing is ever real

push and pull

i push and i push and i push and i push
...just waiting for the pull
i'll never pull at you... i'll just pull you near
until i push and push and push you away, again
rewind - repeat - rewind - repeat

it's not a game despite what this looks like.
despite what you see.
i don't want to make you hate me or piss you off.
i want your footing to remain steady, on solid ground... but discomfort makes me shift
i don't like the push i have inside myself...
I don't know what my problem is
i don't know why these things make me so nervous

but i am nervous
and so i push

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

close call

I wonder if you know how much I am thinking of you
It feels a lot like a real close call
A head on collision waiting to happen
A mess and a mop... ready to take a dance... across the floor
Polluted with blood and jealousy, insecurities and "unsurities."
...despite what you tell me

Character is only what we wish it to be, and where we wish to be
and who we wish to be... and what we wish to see

And do I see you? And do you see me?
And what am I thinking? What was I thinking?
Actions get called into question... all of the time
Self critical ... self criticism
It feels a lot like a real close call
A head on collision waiting to happen

I am waiting to finally...
collide into you...

Pick.Me.Up

These nightmares won't stop replaying inside my head
over and over and over again...
Like a sad record skipping
You would have never thought that something so lovely could make you so angry, while singing and spinning and skip-skip-skipping a beat

And he said to "look happy" while snapping a picture
But it's my heart that can act ... and my face that cannot

These memories keep on haunting me
and I can run and run and run...
But I cannot outrun this... I cannot outrun you... or even run to you, because I keep falling down
And I am not sure what to make of all this... no-one has taught me how to clean up the blood
Of so badly scraped up knees with glass and rocks in deep from when I fall down

Scars to remind me. Please don't remind me...
I had to live through this. Don't make me re-live this...
over and over and over again
Like a sad record skipping... skip-skip-skip-skipping
Reminds me of moments, of hitting the ground

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

June ninth two thousand nine...

June ninth... my mother's anniversary to my abusive coke-head step-father
Wonderful. Congratulations --- you fucked up my life.

An awful day of dodging bullets and hoping you don't die with him
Good God(!) I wish I could see you. I wish your stroke didn't put the controller in his hand.
I miss my brothers. I miss the smell of Nana's room and your sarcastic humor.

June ninth turned out to be a rather awful day.
A bullet caught me and struck me stupid while riding in the car.
A $200 jacket and $100 skate shoes when we haven't any money?
We've taken so much work off to make attempts to see my dying mother!

I was pushed off the cliff of already distant hopes of sanity and the calm I clung to.
And we fight about drugs. And we fight about your lack of care with my heart.
And you said it best, "I really don't know."
You really don't know if I am more important than your drugs?
Four years wasted... I am so ashamed.

And I did not need medication or the help of liquor to come to my conclusion.
Everything seemed so clear. I am older, haven't much to offer...
and I'm lost with sorrow - hand in hand
My world was spinning so quickly and I was crying something horrid...into my hands
Pulling at my skin and feeling so uncomfortable inside it.

And finally I gave in to my greatest temptation.
I found the darkest corner of the darkest room and just curled up...
Hard wood floors and street lights as my only company while you sat at the computer -I could hardly hear you breathing.
In those shadows the closest chord was wrapped around my neck.
Tighter and tighter until my arms weakened and I am not so sure what followed.
All I remember was waking up wet from spit so I must not have been conscience.
And I felt your hands lift my head... unwrapping the strangulation...
And if I thought clearer, and if I wrapped twice... the chord would have never loosened.
And if I tried harder, and I wrapped it three times...... there'd be nothing left to mention.

Monday, June 8, 2009

Desert Airplanes

I send my love to my love
an aching heart in the heart of the desert
and I never call when I say I'll call
but you still answers months later


Hiding away in desert mountains
The most deserving of such beauty
Can I hide with you? Like you hid with me...
9 years ago... boy, what time has done...
To our faces, to our souls.


And they say that distance...
makes the heart grow fonder?
I'm really not so sure...
It just makes our face grow heavy
It just makes me feel unsteady
Stumbling towards the nothingness


And I miss screaming the lyrics to:
Saves the Day - 70 mph - Utah high ways
And I miss watching storms roll by,
and being young - and bloodied up with you.


I miss seeing hope in lightning strikes...and quicksand.
I miss chasing lizards and praying with the praying mantis and feeding the noisy dog next door sleeping pills wrapped in cheap bologna so we can actually sleep in.
I miss watercolor painting skies, scraping all the skin off my stomach while trying to shimmy up onto the roof top to catch a better view of a rainbow, and pissing off the neighbors by skating in our concrete poured backyard at midnight. I miss the Mormon room mates and Time Crisis and Time Crisis 2 and cooking tacos and eating shitty Southern Utah "Chinese food."


And now I am coming back through... 9 years later?
And now you are finally backpacking Europe. Go figure.


I'll throw
.a paper airplane
..off the cliff
...for you.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Mother Mother

I read through everything that I write and it makes me wonder...
When did my self image totally deflate?

I know who I am and what I stand for...
Or who I was and what I stood for?
Am I losing that now? Down the drain with everything else?

If my mother dies will I die with her?
The only thing that keeps me so inspired.
The only person I can truly talk to.
The only one who understands where I really came from...

The bad side of the train tracks... 8 years fleeing.
Eviction to eviction just to keep a roof.
One bed, one pillow, one mom, one daughter.
That car you needed a butter knife to get into and a screw driver to start.
A little girl so amused in the passenger seat.
My burger flipping hero.

And now thanks to her, I don't need much.
But now, because of her, I have learned to settle for much less.

And I remember blood spatter, the first time I thought I lost her.
I was almost 3. The blood had a scent.
I remember the hand of a man holding my mothers head...
like a melon, smashing it into the counter's edge... and the blood painting me red and the shrills and popping sound sunk my heart and I couldn't do anything... forever haunted.

And I somehow managed to grow up "good."
But now I am letting go as she lets go.
Hospital beds, blood clots in heart and in head.
Weekly transfusions. Weekly confusion.

And I am sorry that I am leaving... but I cannot watch you "almost die" again.
And I don't have the support I need to handle this... it's like I'm three, covered in blood... in that little white cockroach infested kitchen again.

I am losing you mom. I am losing me. You are my footing... now where will I land?

white trash romance

I feel like a white trash romance novel... when was I thrown out?
The last few weeks are taking their toll on me.
The last 4 years have wrecked havoc on my body and you can
see it on my face.

I can't believe you fought with me about "doing drugs" the week my mother had a major stroke. The last few weeks have been terrible enough without having to deal with your bullshit. So yes dear, go get high... your silver spoon fed life really has you in a rough position.

And here I am battling to see my mother.
A step father so evil he calls screaming at midnight, "You're the one who is killing your mother!"
"No dad, actually I'm sleeping... and all I ever did for you was raise your fucking children."
And here I am battling for custody of my 16 year old brother... who threatens death and hanging if he's left with my father. Riding an hour back and forth to talk him down and hug him. Losing money. Losing sleep. Losing hope. Losing my only hero?

Go ahead dear, light that up... enjoy. You just got $100 worth of skate shoes and your mother bought you a $200 jacket - your life's real difficult, I know. You need it... so have at at.

And you say right up in my face "what is your problem? I just don't get it." And you say right up in my face, "what, I just don't get it."

fuuuck

So frustrated. In so many ways.
We need to move past this.
I need to move past you, but.... should I?
I mean, I am far past you... I've been shoving you away for years.
But your hand has never raised to strike my face.
And you let me breath when I need to breath.
And it feels like everyone else has a lack of interest.
And it feels like I am a lost cause anyways.

I've already sacrificed my moral judgment for you.
I've already cut away large chunks of me because of you.

But...

Maybe I'm just insecure by all your stepping out.
Maybe I'm just left tired with all your getting high.
Maybe I am lack luster because you've left me so worn.
And maybe my keeping you here is just an excuse to not be lonely.

What happened to me... what have I become?
I have never been an "eat the bullet" kind of girl...
never one to play dead: unless of course I planned to make a run for it!
So what I am doing? What left me weak? Maybe it's the fact that what
came before you was a monster... and what you did in following years was just the final bullet in the shape of cupid's arrow.

Fool me... over and over again.
I often wish I was still locked in that bathroom...
...and had hours to think.
To prepare myself for what's to come.
To decide, what I didn't want.
To reflect, on what could be better judgments.

And I am not looking to be saved... I am just looking for friends.
Well I do not need a hero - my hero's fucking break and bend.

I am tired of pretending that everything's alright.
I am tired of pretending that there is someone out there for me...
and lying myself to sleep, and making up excuses for everything we do.

Just because you are nice doesn't make you perfect.
Just because you're gorgeous doesn't make it right.
Just because you'll get me wine, doesn't mean your selfless.
Just because you love me, doesn't mean I come before your high.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

(insert viable name here)

so what if i am starving myself
pain replacing cravings of what i cannot have
i am blinded by what i can see
i am left numb and cold by what i cannot touch
i am left hungry for more...

take. me. out

Forgive me for silence and slow motion
Sloth-like surrender

I swear I'm not this lazy. I am just tired.
Tired of this. Tired of everything. Just tired.
And possibly lonely... if I reach real far.

I am sorry I cannot become all that I am called
in your "most-drunk" moments. Your expectations
are seemingly high. Unexpectedly unreasonable.

Call me a taxi. Get me the fuck out of here, seriously.
I don't want your relationship.
I don't want anything but to relate... to you. To someone.

I miss Saturday Night Dinner Club. Political debates over pizza.
Thursday night's at Brother's Lounge... deep discussions:
Religion, sexuality, the physcological control government has
...over it's population (!)
11:00 a.m. jack and cokes watching chess matches at the 49er.
Midnight movies. Getting dressed up. Getting messed up.
Running through the streets drinking red wine straight from the bottle at 4 a.m.
...after dancing for hours and throwing up.

Take me out... for god's sake.
Take me out.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Keeper

I am on a roll, oh (!) am I ever?
And I really don't know just what to say...
to you... to anybody... these days

And I miss people but not like they miss me.
I am hardly thought of. I can feel it in the air.
I can feel it in my ever-changing-name
At each turn of the road I can feel it
My total lack of significance
In this world, in your eyes

And I take my clothes off to expose my bones
And they say, "She just wants attention"
But oddly I hate it when you look at me
And in the buff is how I hide...
Judge me strictly by my flesh and scars
Nothing's real. Nothing's fake.
Judge me by the way I hide.

I am on a roll, oh (!) am I ever?
And I really don't know what else to do...
with you... with anybody... these days

I want to speak but I don't know how.
I want to feel but it doesn't feel good.
I want to sing but it doesn't sound right.
I want to fuck but there's so much to hide.

I want to be a "fuck and run type of girl", at times...
But I know you are a keeper
and I am bad at keeping anything safe.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

with affection

i've scraped my knees and elbows
i've torn the flesh from my rib cage

and still you think i'm beautiful.
and still i cannot see you. but i see you so clearly from this distance...
and trust me, i love you.
and circumstances are only circumstantial
and nothing is forever... exceptions that of death

do you recall that promise I spoke in texas while you were in california?
(when you were supposed to come to me but never showed up.)
you called a mess and crying. you said you wanted death.
i said, "that's fine. but hold on because if you do that and don't come to me i will take my life and meet you somewhere in that death, i promise."
and you said, "you wouldn't."
and i said something along the lines of, "try me."

and then you disappeared.

did you know i spent hours pacing in the dark...
each night i'd cry and pace until i fell down
and when i fell down to sleep i'd only dream about you
and i could still feel you despite the fact i never touched you
because you can touch certain parts without extending your arms
because you can hear certain words without making a sound

and i was scared. and i saw death. i was waiting for confirmation.
because what's life without understanding?
googling your name in every fucking search engine.
because i have loved and i am loved but i only ever wanted a little understanding. understand?
love is over-rated. love comes easily. no one....
understands me. not even you.
but you come close and fall far from short in my eyes

and beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
and you are beautiful

and did you know i almost died?
do you even have any idea of what i look like without food, and sleep, and flesh...
for weeks upon weeks?
do you realize what a close call it was when you finally called me?
i was about there. i was pretty close to done.

and you are my distant love - my closest friend
and you almost were my life
or the end of such things

and i know i neglect you
and i always feel bad about this
but something is unsettling in regards to the thoughts I have about you
i don't know how to feel

i guess what i am trying to say is this
i love you and my life depends on it
so lay off the crack and keep your ass out of jail


with affection,
your little kitten

no. never.

You made so many promises and kept true to most...
which makes me wonder where it is you lurk
I move and move and move and move...
away.
unsettled.
just waiting.
You promised me if I left you - you would kill me.
I recall your exact words, what used to be daily...
then weekly.
then monthly.
now only a couples times a year.
"If you leave me no one will find you. I will cut you into 100 tiny
pieces and bury you all over Iowa. No one...will ever... find you."
Great.
Wonderful.
Beautiful.
And yes, I believed you.
And yes, I left you just the same... after you started shopping:
for a gun. for younger women.
for the beauty I clearly couldn't provide for you, while with you... forever more.
forever?
and ever and ever?
no, never (!)
No thank you Mr. Iowa. No thank you my beloved sociopath.
So I wait for the bullet when passing through your state... and sometimes I long for it...
Though I don't say these things out loud. No never. Because my secrets are my secrets...
Buried in my heavy clumsy concrete hands.
Something that's truly mine. Something so far from lovely.
My sanity vs. my cold dead fate... whatever... just come here... I'm ready.

sometimes my scars hurt

i can feel the tearing pain through my sleeves so i pull them up
nothing to hide, tear them off, tear them open, wipe them up
with the ruffled edges of a new dress - what a mess, what a shame

set afire something else that was nearly new - more reminders of how it's always old
now more soot on my boots and on my face
I can't keep my hands clean - I can't stop touching my fucking face
i scrub and scrub but it won't wipe off - i can't come clean
with nothing to hide, forehead black, sleeveless and bleeding out - what a mess, what a shame

And I could have been beautiful had my choices been made with more "wise" and less "heart"
unconditional with so many conditions - that's where we are, that's what we do
And I could have been clean if I had only walked away - but I have always been a mud pie child
I have always been a bloody mess

and he cries so soft - please don't marry him, please don't marry him, please don't marry him
please don't marry him, please don't marry him, please don't... marry him...

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

never alone

He says, "I'm not really into you, I'm into the idea of you.
Sit still, don't speak... what you think is unimportant...
how you feel is beside the point I'm making."

And so, so still I sit on the edge of his bed without a word... without words.
And I am fine with this. So fine with this. Just brush the hair out of my face
and pull the strands that have found themselves fixed in my lip gloss
on my lips... for which he has no interest.

"Uninterested in the uninteresting. Understandable.
Underestimate me repeatedly."

His reply to this brings words of discontent... I speak to only wipe
the blood from my lips. To cover bruises and cuts.

I speak to feel... something, anything will do. A random word for infliction.
I am alive.

I spoke and I moved...
Across the country... across the world.
And still I dream by his bedside... so quiet, so still... I barely move or breath until the moment I awake and realize.... I am not there............... anymore
I am free to speak and move... but I am still so soft and still, out of habit, or fear?

Either way I can't seem to help but think: God, he'd be so proud.

Losing Face

I pull at myself, my flesh, my being...
Being bored. Being boring.
Being something I am not.

I am free at last. Free from having to do anything.
So I do nothing. I am becoming what's inside of me. Nothing.

Familiar voices fade in my ear and faces are hard to face.
Awake. Alone. Aware.
Do you have "triple A" ... breakdown prevention, protection?
Time to re-inflate.

Erratically eradicate all that once was you, or me, or what?
Who am I? Where am I?

Oh right(!) Another new city, identity... life. Daily.
Bored with the new. Let me find the lost consistency...
Of drinks and laughter and falling up stairs and skinning my knees

Perhaps that's it(!)
I need more blood on my lips.
I need more motion and excuses to circulate, yet stay silent...
Silent and still --- it defines me --- my head spins the slower I move
Drunk without the drink?

What is it to lose definition? Lose face?
I look in the mirror and I can't remember.
I look in the mirror but that's not my face.