Saturday, September 29, 2012

say, honey i am not sorry

every time you look, you get sick to your stomach, feel nauseous and dizzy, the cavern cracked in your chest, gouged. you need to lock up all the offenses in a box and get it out of sight, burn it if necessary.

don't forget: last night you felt nothing. thirty minutes on the phone, and nothing. the drop in your gut at the predictable typical "hello?" multi-tasking at the party, the ugly silence. how flippant to your low note, how ungrateful and spoiled for a charmed life.

you drink, and dream of women: cale's birthday a circus of pierced nipples, rooms full of bathtubs, and balancing acts on floating balloons. waking up is not real life, but you have a better memory of what it could be. you just want a 19th-century romance with a woman in a field.

--herb garden
--sublet/house-sit cabin
--animate with morgan

You are Eeyore. 

listening to: joanna newsom - kingfisher

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

good things for today

  • hot cuppa tea
  • popcorn with yeast and garlic salt
  • writing letters
  • tearing paper
  • dandelions
  • baby bowl before bed
  • not looking at the computer
  • not giving a fuck

--run away with morgan and be secret princesses in caves
--find some awesome artist who needs a personal assistant
--move into a roadside attraction
--don't worry about any of these fuckhead fakeys
--don't bother talking to anyone who doesn't bother talking to you
--cultivate ugliness
--every letter a suicide note
--cut it out
--love the cut

Sunday, September 23, 2012

envelope words

it's the last thing i would've wanted him to say. don't ever say anything is pretty ever again.
you tell me you're working on words but if that's possible, how are you so far? do you understand i'm falling apart, crushed? NO. you couldn't. every letter a suicide note why do i bother? every dark patch bristling card calling me. i feel like i'm going so much crazier than everyone else -- of course we all are, so why? we're all running ragged on our fears and insecurities and stress of every kind. all i want to do forever is cry and creak and die and cry but i can't ever.
i was trying to think of the response i would want. i could only think of the one i wouldn't: this was that one. this was the one that killed me. i can't do this. there's nothing to change that could fix it. i just have to move on and find someone who can begin to understand. is there a person like that? is there anyone, anywhere for me? why am i so far? what can i do to find my place? i feel so sad and stupid for asking but there's nothing to cry and nowhere to go and i need to take care of everyone, i need them all to stay and live and love and make everything good, i know they can make it. i try to make them see all their good and find each other. if only we could really build it.... i wish i could believe. all i see is the razors in the drawer + the stains on the floor.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

​olisten, don't worry, it's fine. i've said this before,
but i mean it this time:
i can't do this anymore.

you will not wonder what could have been. you will continue to believe i could have tried harder, when you never tried at all.
you never even said what happened.
you never even explained that the pledge was done. you broke it and you pretended you hadnt.
i can't begin to say my disappointment.

​​ i will make this because i am the only one who will. i will do my damnedest because it's all that i can do. these things are fleeting, this is what they are. i will make every letter a suicide note, a ship of leaves set to sail down a trickling gutter stream. i am the moss at the bottom of the street.


i was afraid to let go and give my love freely. when i did, it was given back.
​it's pretty HIGHLARIOUS that i predicted everything in this poem, by lumping you in with the rest before it was even true.
you should understand that i'm disappointed and hurt that you left me for someone new. or rather, placed me on the backburner (yes i've been there before.)
but i'm really hurt and really angry and disgusted that you didn't tell me first, that instead of checking in, you checked the fuck out. really did you care for me so little? after pulling out all my love and trust, after you told me over and over that it was okay and you were here and full of love, after we pledged ourselves to each other. why didn't you tell me that plans had changed? why didn't you tell me there was at least the possibility?
and as far as not "understanding upset or hurt" or whatever garbage, i don't fucking believe you for a second and i really wish you'd drop this holier than thou shit and get back in the dirt with the rest of us. saying that crap (and actually believing it?!) just makes you seem all the more selfish, naive, and oblivious. which i guess is what you really are, and congratulations on finding someone who buys into that.
what does "sorta" mean?
how angry should i be?
do you know how i pined? do you know what i risked?
it kills me how defensive you were. how you float away to your intellectual land where nothing matters and there's no point to anything. do you really believe that? how did we ever love if that's true? how can you throw this all away?
do you know how it feels to have your heart jumping out of you, your chest always an aching cavern, open to everything? how is it that i can feel this much?
it's constant pain. i know you don't believe.
of course i could never make it with someone who doesn't believe in anything. of course he sees my sadness rules me.

you didn't miss me. you don't need me. i should've known.... i think i did which is where the test came in. i saw this coming before you did. i saw it all. i was never your style, i could never be your girl.
just don't pretend this was something that happened to you. you are making the choice every step that you take. fate led you to the water but you didn't have to drink.
i am the desert, the place where men sink.

how could you be so naive, so selfish, so ENTITLED????
why did i believe that you respected me
why did i believe when you said about getting rejected, being hurt, the one that was left
why didn't i notice that long line of girls stretched out before me all along
why didn't i call to them
how did i not see how much you worship yourself, your disdain for human relations, your carelessness

fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you
i thought you knew me better. i thought i could believe that you'd grown. but you are still the same immature boy who loves the lie and the pit.
i'm too embarrassed to tell my friends what happened between us. i was so fucking excited.
you tried to get in touch in the weakest ways, so fucking polite. one text a week and a couple one-line emails. no calls, no letters; it was clear you didn't need me, miss me, didn't feel like i feel.
you wanted to silence to give you the go.
i asked what do you want, and you say you want to talk it out. what i hear is you want to make yourself feel better before you move on and leave me to my silence. i will not give you that.
you are a fucking coward. do not blame me that we never settled on a label or a name; you never tried to have the conversation. it was easy on you, you could slip out at any time. you did, i knew you would.
i feel so stupid for letting myself fall. i saw this coming from the start. but i do put my heart before my head, whatever you think. i believed in our power, the magic of us. i thought we could overcome our fears and failures.
of course i love you, that's why i am so broken. what did you think? i warned you what would happen.

ten moons. write it about how i feel, not what he did. he will not understand the blaming language. you have to make him understand through confessions and truth.

filling and refilling the bucket with water. filling up and pouring out. a branch cat​​ches my arm and leaves a cool drop of morning dew, the last one left at high noon hiding in the dark bush. a cobweb catches my hair, surrounds and tangles, a new nest.
the bucket will never be clean. the water will come out clear and pure and will muddy instantly in the stained white plastic.
​how how how how how how h​​ow do i feel so much

Friday, September 21, 2012

crumb + crime

some lines tapped out drunk on my phone and high in my room, in a
matter of minutes over a handful of days--

(i'm sorry, you asked.)

carrying you
the broken doubloon
pockets of deception
full and heavy with treasures
cherished or forgotten

funny how we came together as it fell apart
broken from the start, but now scattered
at least a fourth gone forever
and the other smooth slivers tried to lose
but somehow i never do manage to

how much was i holding in?
how long will it take to wash away
near nine years of constant chemicals?
no one warned me:
waves of unchecked estrogens, enzymes wreak havoc on every piece
of my system and knock me off what little stability i rocky rode,
cysts crunch tight ovaries twisting, wrecked
weeks of white knuckles, eight days of thick black blood
birthmarks bleeding and browner than ever
so sore, so much, so tired, so sad
so so done
get me gone

shedding it all
getting rid
the sticky slickness of newly opened fruit
it pains and pours
cant keep anymore
i feell down

couldnt contain it and split my sense
on the pavement spilt my whisky and my mess
but not a drop for you
and fingers that beckon but do not ask
split sick open wide
spilt self all over
cant contain--
i didnt want to
i disjt mean to
he did not ask to take the fruit

they usually dont

and where did i lose you?
between the unealked streets of our interchange
without negotiating the borders of this new land
under a haze of confusion in the cloud of uncertain substance
so how could i find you?
why shouldnt you float
in and out
to and fro
up and down
i coukdnt ever hope to stay
a mess of indecision
a cobweb tangle heartsore

that heart was whole
in my pocket all along
it missed the chance to sing our song

and now my fruit is rancid, rotten
under wilted odor of noxious lovers
who sucked on my spirits and promptly forgot them
greedy plundered all sweet offers

tasting and taking the higher they climbed
entwined in the dance called the rape of the vine

they took as they tasted the best of my wine
they took me down dancing the rape of the vine

why did i assume it was all in the mix?
that the music would speak where the silence kicks?
that they'd stay to sleep when the fruit was picked?
why i’d rather not ask than take the risk
when at every end i’m trapped and tricked

how hungry did you have to get
to try a night with me?
look past the sagging sacks and
maneuver the tangles to get the fruit
this is no courtly quest
there was no love story

and so pulled out the clot and held in my hands
nine years of clear caught love, spent seed
everything i tried to keep
a ball of blood and mucus down the drain
sent off without ceremony
now what do i do with all this feel?
without a stopper or a net
and now, not even any eyes
dumb and blind and come and cry

and what we saw on the deep dark highway
were roads of stars through layers of heavy trees
all that hanging life and sweetness
and there, ahead, still and silent in the middle of the road
the fawn, the wandering grazer, small shy and calm
not the deer in headlights
not a thing but trust
we slow to let her finish, turn and cross back towards us in the dark
not running
not away

the beauty leaves a bitter taste
i want to scream, to get her gone
don't look at us, don't believe
you can't stay here girl
you won't have time to learn

two dead doe
and there it is:
every sister, mother
splayed in center
the white lines
straight through
legs broken
necks cracked
i try, but i cant take it back

now the cat in my lap and the wine in my hand
hurting and working without a plan
i won’t tell you how it really ends
you’ll do your best to understand
but wonder why it’s back again

^this is lucha's contribution
can't say i don't agree
you asked
i'm sorry

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

​why can't i give myself the right to ask? am i afraid of my partners? am i too afraid that i'll upset them by being straight forward and end up hurting myself in the long run? what is this ridiculous dance?​​