I became a rambler... 1/1/12

I’d ask you what it feels like to be so damn apathetic but that would require you to have feelings in order to answer me.

At what point did you become a stranger in my bed and at what point did our bodies refuse to know each other?

Mine seeks for your warmth every night and at this point in the mornings as well but you refuse it like an icicle.

Did you finally realize I’m not the budding rose bud and did you finally realize my codependency?

I wished to hide it from you and I did a good job, I think. But you see it kept creeping up. I kept putting concealer on it, I kept telling it to shut the fuck up but it kept creeping up like the creases of an old woman’s wrinkles at the worst point.

When she wishes to hide her vulnerability
In the end no one can hide their vulnerability.

And so I hid it.
I covered up the sadness and the knowing and I tried to breathe. But my anxiety disorder prevented me from taking deep breaths from my diaphragm and as my world became smaller and smaller I realized what I had become

A psychological experiment
Lies lies lies

When the lights are off I feel you calling me but I never give you the opportunity to miss me
Perhaps that’s my mistake
Does she allow you to miss her?
Does she wait for you to be the one to call and do you go running to her when you don’t hear her voice or feel her sweet soft vapor on the nape of your neck?

See I can’t give you that opportunity because I’m so afraid you’ll run away against my peering presence

Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen and go ahead and tell everyone my world is dominated by you and hardly me anymore

You see you’ve made this world so simple and yet so complex. Now that I know what guides my air it sucks ass when I don’t get. No one said this would be eloquent. Love makes us stop being poets…

I feel fine, I feel like I could make it without you and then I see your sweetest sad eyes.
And then I see you hold my mother’s hand as she wakes up from the anesthesia of her cancer surgery.
Why would you lie about that baby?

You see, it would be much easier if I saw everything you did as full of lies.
It would be much easier if I could fit you into my anorexic psyche that counts its calories and its steps
It’s the ambiguity that always gets to me
It’s the feeling of not knowing
Is that that what love is?

See this is why I deeply do not believe in a god.
I’m not so secretly jealous of all those that are able to
All those that are able to place their blind faith into something they can’t see knowing to their core that things will be ok because they are operating according “to plan”

I never knew that shit.
When I let things happen according to plan dishes were broken, souls were robbed of childhood and children waited for the day….

Since then I made it my life’s mission to be my own God

And for the most part it’s worked.
Except for those searing nights when my maps and timelines don’t line up and the floor can’t be controlled by a small 125 composition of flesh and it is then that I am terrified

Because I don’t know what will work
I don’t know if your hand can reach me

And it is then that I wonder….
It’s been a while since I’ve wondered. It really has. Well maybe not so long…

The memory is still too fresh and despite my best efforts to run away, it keeps creeping up
Buddhists say that sometimes things keep repapering in you’re life because you haven’t learned the lesson from it.

I’m 24 and I’m already exhausted from the reappearance of mine.
The thought is there again. Would it be that bad if I did it?

unfinished

What happiness lied there, in that barren land
That makes me want to search for it?

Gravitating toward it like all the atoms and particles of this world
Recording every detail
Allowing my brain to betray me
And my spirit to leave me behind

Perhaps it is the hope that it is not a barren land
That there are seedlings lying there, waiting for your warmth, so that they may blossom
And unveil their concerto

It is always the hope that kills us
damn

Our love

I will make the lie easy for you
I’ll make it so that you don’t even have to say it

Look away when the tear rolls down my face though
You owe me that much

And I’ll stop asking what happens to those painters hands when their not enmeshed in mine

If only this love wasn’t so fragile
And I so weak that I tiptoe around it and whisper in its presence
afraid of what happens when it realizes it could do better

afraid it will never flourish under my green thumb
I’ve watered it
What more do you need, sweet love?

I’ve beat you up
I’ve cherised you
And now I lay rosebeds around you to shelter your fall

What more do you need, sweet love?

I’ve forgotten myself in my efforts to protect you

And I’ve wandered around with the pieces, looking for a way to repair it
Which way to the mender?
They told me I’d get there if I looked hard enough
And stopped asking those questions

So I’ll lay with you and feel your breath on my neck
And for tonight I won’t ask you whose nape your vapor grazes when I’m not with you
And for tonight, you won’t tell me any lies

Visceral

You are standing at my doorstep now
I open the bright pink gate and there we stand
Two souls open to knowing each other

And so it floods in
Our secrets and your veins protruding from your wrists when you sit on my bed and take your pulse because you’re scared
And as I rub your back it floods in

We weren’t cautious
And what have you done with my whispers and tears?

I’ve saved yours. Not on purpose of course.
The visceral memory of you is so suffocating it makes my bones crack
And I feel betrayed by my intellect which had spent all of its life convincing itself it was not an animal

Not this thing that sees the way your eyes droop at the corners
And your exigent laugh that cries out to fuck the world
Or the way my head fit so perfectly on your chest to take a nap and as your chest expanded to let in air I knew you were already broken
Your kisses placed along my spine and the way you reminded me to breathe
The way you reminded me to breathe…

Lungs expanding
5am and there I am in the streets of Compton looking for you
Like the crack rats I studied convincing myself I was superior to them because I could analyze and word them.
I could know them, but the only reason I could was because I was them. 5am and I’m convincing myself I’m not a crack rat while you’re convincing yourself you can conquer the world on your own
except there I am.
Fragile and in front of you, a mirror of you.

Were you afraid to be weak?
Was I afraid to admit who I really was fighting for?

And what became my medicine now poisons me
Silly girl
I should have known those eyes were a cautionary tale

When we were together I made it my job to memorize you
Guess I’m a masochist.

I walk through world with an image of you not in me but all around me.
I’m fine.
And then the wind blows and I smell you.
Or I catch a glimpse of curly hair and suddenly my stomach betrays me
Or I see that red coca-cola shirt or I feel deep within me
Deep within me.
There you are.
I’ll salute you every morning and say goodnight to you when it’s dark
And the only ones left are those with
Visceral memories that betray them.

The pink gate
That bandana
Your hands
Your hands…
The artist hands that painted my sorrow.

I could do Worse than You

I could do worse than stand at the edge with you holding your hand
Easy on the eyes and careless like the Hortensia

At other times Discombobulated and gasping for words

As they wheeze out into the hot summer air infected with mosquitoes begging for the warmth of you

I don’t know how to ask
Or how to help

All I know is I notice the dribble of sweat making its way down from your forehead glistening with rage
Or is it from your eyes that have seen too much of this world
And not enough of that heavenly planet where angels reside
Does it exist?

I could do worse than hope for it.

I could do worse than skip around from branch to branch looking for you
Creating an executive correspondence with the wind which can travel much farther than even my hardest run to search for you

And I suppose I could do worse than ask the yet living what it feels like to rejoice in your joy and wallow in your sorrows as my gaze stops even the strongest stampede

I am a warrior now
I will not stop
I could do worse than you.

Your Light- 1/23/11

I should be asking myself how the poets did it
Writing about beauty when there is little more to do but sigh

And stare at the way his eyes glimmer against the sunlight and reflect the bright pink off the setting sun
While the birds circle their own world, playing their concerto
Oblivious of the part they are playing in my love song

His hands shielding himself from the harshness the weather has exposed
Or maybe from my burning gaze attempting to save something as precious as the poets muse

Because I know as soon as I look away it will be gone
And I will be left with a vaporous trail of sweet nothings
And melt into a pool of stupidity
From where one certainly couldn’t conjure up a poem

So I must refrain and remain content letting the poem breeze through me and releasing it back into the atmosphere
Because there is no time to write what I see

Your hands, layed flat like a beautiful plane
Against the curvature of your face
As the sun recedes into the background
And takes with it, your light.

Birthday Wishes

It’s your birthday and there I have you
Sitting on my bed as you rest your head on your motorcycle helmet

I’ve done myself up
Covered up the sadness and knowing
And I try to breathe
You don’t notice and again, I fish for the compliments

It’s times like these that you make me feel five
Dressing up in mom’s high heels and smearing that bright red lipstick
Attempting, desperately, to be taken seriously

You’re wearing that bandana that I hate and we’ve both at this point gotten very good at our roles
But this time you’re uncertain, you don’t know where were going, and for once I have the power.
I’ve been dangling it over you for days
Rejoicing in how it feels
But as you sit in my bed now it feels awkward

You’re favorite word…

I walk you over to get a massage and I play the role of good girlfriend as best I can
Don’t worry; I’ve taken notes all my life
Be agreeable
Always be there, even if he isn’t
Always answer that phone
For heavens sake don’t argue

Is that good?
Stick your cock wherever you want

And so I proceeded.
I wined and dined you and prayed that this would be enough
To cover up the fact that earlier that evening you wouldn’t even take my clothes off
To cover up the fact that earlier that evening we stopped playing our roles
And simply became them.