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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

(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.

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.

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...

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.