enjoy some tunes while you guzzle down all this emo content

Showing posts with label heart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heart. Show all posts

Saturday, May 05, 2018

why tho

did i write it? i don't remember.
when i came home after 2 beers after 0 for a week i felt
yuck not sleepy but tired probably could sleep but why bother when i could have another
prowled and pranced
kissed dogs
avoided questions so that old biddy wouldn't have to answer I HATED THE MOVIE I HATE THE COMPANY I HATE ALL THINGS
wasn't it supposed to get better if i wasn't drinking ?
wasn't it supposed to be booze that made my mind lo go ?
i borrowed the beer and i don't know why
i feel like all hell here by myself with: yes i did, there were two more beers, so four and i'm a wreck
the impulse is
tell yr wreck
text someone
let them know what hurt you or if it's late enough only how hurt
i'm trying to not
i'm trying to stop
if i'm true
how i have forced my sad feelings on everyone everyone everyone i know lately
- i used to be so much better at hiding -
i got it in my mind - it looked like - expressing would be better
i thought i saw it
i was jealous
all these people sharing sharing sharing and
there they go how
even i've seen them
so yeah okay so what's even real
so i try to let myself feel that impulse
and i'm just idiot speak a fool unhappy garbage tongues or beating down these closed doors or near nonverbal at the shore
i hate it i hate it how i could kill it
is it my turn

im supposed to back off but its hard
especially seeing f like this, yes hi, yes i drank it up
why am i nicer now
that wasn't the deal
why is it i grow meaner every day and seems like more when i'm sober

here is the feeling where i want to call them. this is probably also the thing that tomorrow i would say - why the fuck did i call them so late. how dumb. here is the thinking i will try to say.
i'm trying to keep my distance but it's hard so hard. i thought about saying something. i thought about typing true words. then i remembered im doing distance but by then i've started to open the window so i think - might as well check. and look. there is your sweet little face, you've seen and you know and still you don't speak. FUCK how it KILLS. what the fuck have i done what the fuck can i do. how can i ever make anything okay. i think - just tell them quick, the true thing, or no that's too honest or hurting or boring, no so tell another line - but no i said i wouldn't. because yes that's all i have done for two+ weeks now and i haven't gotten anything back. the method fails. i have failed. again again again.
and even still i think - if i can't have texts that work maybe i can just call and speak clear or even if not that my missed message will be a signal - the one saying i miss you and i want you around and i love you and -- pretty much the things i've tried to say with typed words on a regular basis.
they are too much or they aren't anything.
what a fucking fool.
tonight i'm glad i didn't call. did i make myself understand myself?
i'm always waking up and checking and oh fuxking gods why why why did i call at 4am what was i thinking what is wrong with me
yes yes everything yes yes kill it
i have the hardest time believing in t

i came home after two beers with a headache and i didn't care, i had two more, for the first time in at least ten and two days and is that good? am i better? i've been so miserable mad pathetic i have nothing to give. i am thinking of being dead and what ease. maybe my dream was prophetic or maybe i should be proactive. i don't need this beer that i snuck for. i don't know why i need to sneak. i crave the game. (there are so many better games)

how does everyone just make their stuff and do their things and it seems
not easy
but possible
how is it that everything to me looks like anti itself
how is it i am even still here

goddammit if you go anywhere

it takes so much strength in this state not to say it

Saturday, March 03, 2018

keyculator speak

today is friday march 2, i guess it's just after midnight so. i'm drinking beer and i just had my first cigarette after 2+ weeks without. i'm trying to understand teh impulse. i know part of it is teh moment itself but what's teh feeling that leads to it and the feeling that hapens afterwards? tonight i thought i would write some messages to friends inviting them to teh movie at SXSW and maybe even post on some groups about the screenings. or do some research. or even just read my book. but there was a shift, a switch flipped. and none of that productive stuff is what i want anymore. i have been filling this void for years this way - beer, smokes, drown it. i use the time too to connect, talk with friends, hang out. if i'm alone i can SING or listen to music in a devoted way that i don't normally allow myself to. or this- I WRITE. is that what i really need to be allowing myself? the smoking and drinking is the excuse for the thing i want. the honest, the open, the art, the silliness.

and so now i'm on beer .. 4 and cough syrup (the prescribed dose thank you) and the friends somehow suddenly disappeared, as they always seem to do once i decide to lay down deep in teh groove, and i see that i'm alone, and i become terrified. look at this fucking hell i've wrought, look at this mess i am. i can't figure what eh trigger was. why did they leave? what have i done?
jerel jerel jerel i love you. what can i do for you. am i a horrible person for you to be around. am i the worst influence. am i the whitest cis lady asshole. i want to be better. i am sorry. i am sorry. i want to love you i want to hold you i want to keep listening. i wish i could cat scratch my own hands. i wish the pen pierced deeper in the palm. you're 6 nyquil down and i'm 6 states away and i can't fucking stand it, i'm drinking to fill the space. come here, come home. if you don't know what you're looking for it's okay. if you think you might fail it's okay. there's nothing worse than not trying.
do i just want you to love me?
am i so
so so so so
so so
so so
pathetic ???
i can see the love that will ignite between the webs, i see how you will fit into the fold. the connection is not just mine.
if i have no other purpose in this world i don't care as long as i can connect us. i'm proud of the fires i started. to leave the people in a room and see the light turn on.
i want to be so much better than i am.
i have been so bad at getting better.
i create impossible goals. i fail i fail and i grieve the failure. i drink, i smoke, i tell myself i was meant for it.
my breasts feel heavy with regret. days i hate them, only visualize slicing them loose. be free!
i want anything more than these pink claws, flesh sack, milkless bags of misery, all this pink raw hell, the nebula of pain on my thigh, the twitching curl back the WHY the WHY i can't speak bodies i can't handle them i can't encase them i can't comprehend.
more reasons to be celibate! a few more of which i attempted to articulate to jerel earlier today-- i think it felt good to just spew toward him when he wasn't there, just typing typing putting my thoughts down. it's always good to do. i'm always glad when i've doen it. even when it's terrible it's good to get it out. i got it out to him. i felt like it was maybe good too because it said with definity, finally, i am not looking for your sex, when i say i love you, i am not sexing at you. it is not the feeling of now. so i felt like okay i probablky overshared a bit. i always do. but conveying that i think was important. maybe it broke some tension. even if it was just my tension. like what i told him - being celibate right now is partially about releasing the tension of sexual expectations. if they aren't there to begin with we can find new ways, maybe old ways, to communicate, to hold, to become intimate. i miss it i miss it i miss it. i think even i miss the imitation of sex from childhood, what it was in my fiction before it became stagnant and hard and painful rough fixed performed dissociated.
how sleepy am i
how tingly am i
what is my body for
there is this twiddling pain to the left of my spine in the middle of my back, just licking a little this week. what have you come here for? or the tight knot in my gut, and the little pinching pain next to my belly button that grips when i laugh or cough. the pain i ignore. is that what the body is for?
last night i thought i would explode. maybe it was these last two weeks of illness and mostly lying in bed and just routine and nothing and slugging and feeling like an alien just leaving the house once and having to pretend to be a human in front of normies. i thought i would burst. i had the moment where i saw the mirror and the tension exploded. where my eyes went fire and my limbs went wild and my fingers had to fierce explode and gesture strong and my face talked to itself in the mirror without any words that would mean anything except to itself. where i'm nearly clambering up the counter to mash back into myself, unlike usuually where i avoid that shape altogether. who is that creature who comes out? who wants to play? does it have to happen when i'm drinking? (i know that isn't true but how can i invite it out otherwise? where is the space?) WHERE IS TE SPACE WHEREI S THE SPACE.
i've otld myself i've told myself
but how ca ni carve it when i can't start it
i need more loves i need comrades i don't know thati can go it alone. i lose so easy.
i wish i could

Saturday, July 08, 2017


I cut the cord. I take back everything I've ever given you. My time, my energy, my love, all of it is flowing out of you and back to me. I give myself these gifts. I deserve my own kindness. I have the power to heal.
You have none of me. You will feel cold and alone. You will find yourself left with nothing until you do the work of healing. Your silver tongue will turn to stone. You will get exactly what you deserve.

Monday, July 04, 2016

I don't know how to be in a relationship in which I am consistently questioned, mistrusted. 
I don't want to be constantly on the defensive. 
earlier tonight you knelt down to look me in the eye, to say you would take care of me, and I believed it so fully, I thought, has anyone ever loved me this much? wanted to take care of me so fully and earnestly? 
but then you got distracted, it's okay, so do I. and then instead of finding promised food, you questioned my fidelity, all over an empty jam jar. how can I possibly respond?? if you can't trust my actions OR my words, where does that leave me?
I've told you: I want you. I love you. you're sexy. I'm not interested in anyone else. I'm not seeking anyone's attention but yours. you're so good at just being you, you don't have to be anything else. 
I just spend the last 30 hours rescuing you from south Virginia. I don't know how else to prove any of it. I'm exhausted. 

is it the alcohol? what makes your brain go there? I wish you would believe me but maybe you can't and if that's the case maybe you don't need me in your life in this capacity. I'm not done, but I'm done with either of us feeling so bad.

Monday, May 09, 2016

what do i remember about that night???? chris was flirting with me. maybe we had already started snuggling..... i know we had at least been talking/hanging out on the couch in pickle house. 

were we going somewhere? cel came upstairs and we were standing in a little circle by the fridge. 
or did i get up and come back to find the two of them talking?

i remember asking if we woke him up, apologizing. i think it was the next day, he said he couldn't sleep "with a fire under his ass" and a suggestive sort of look.  what could that mean? i didn't ask.

today he's whispering so ken won't hear about a previous "arrangement" he had with chris. something to do with education. sounds like something to do with sex, if i'm reading his implications correctly.  

he also says chris wanted me and him to get closer and that he was trying to bring us together. 
so you're saying he's fucking me to get us to be friends??
and you're saying that chris placed us here on purpose, to 

okay i don't buy it. 

okay i think he really likes me and i don't really know what to do with that. 

i can't get over the idea that he's making it up for some reason. but he told mike he was terrified and excited, he wouldn't say that to someone if i'm not there. to a dude!! and he told FOUR dudes today that i'm an awesome lady (or something, i guess i'll find out exactly what i am when the audio recordings roll in). 

i don't quite know what i'm doing but i don't quite mind. these last two weeks (good lord, three???) have been a blur, a dream. i don't know where we're going and i think i'm okay with that.  
that's not altogether true. i know you're going to south boston, virginia, any damn minute now. and where will be then? you want me to come with you, at least you say you do, at least for part of the time. i can't imagine what this will look like, so i haven't said yes or no. i'm still curious. i still want to see what happens after brett gets here, what we will look like then, and if you are still interested when we're not fucking every couple nights. 

you said:
you want to help me build my space. 
you want to be as honest and open as possible. the experiment is on and for yourself. 
you want to know a good thing.
i can calm you down and descalate you from getting angry, violent. 
i make you feel comfortable in your body.
i make you feel human. 

you said a great many things i can't recall. 

i believe we could do great things. i want to make magic with you. i want to build it better. 

i'm still scared. i'm scared you might be trying to fuck me over, or just get something from me. (what's left? i'm not sure.)
i'm scared that i'm hitting you hard, like wild turkey, and i'm drunk with the right-now good, dreading the ambiguous future. i'm scared i don't know you. (isn't that the point of this, though?)
i'm scared of your massive past, the violence, the drugs, the women. 

your reaction tonight when i told you about cel, about what i thought he was implying, was huge, terrifying. you wanted to hurt him, our poor friend. somehow i calmed you down for now, promising i would talk to him tomorrow before you're back in town... but i don't know how we're going to endure a 4 hour car ride with him for the wedding this weekend, let alone share a tent. i feel terrible. what have i accused him of? what do i know? now i have to have an impossible conversation (is it?) to find out if he's listening to our sex and listening on purpose. the attempt will be better than your proposals. 
i don't understand reacting like that but somehow it doesn't disturb me like it does in other people, or maybe like it would have in the past. why?? maybe i think you're all talk. (not really true.) 

i have a strong desire to record your stories, to pin you down and hold you before you unravel all around me.

Friday, December 18, 2015

a dream of a cult of vampires, or something almost like it.
the kind of dream where me and it are taking turns telling the story, drifting in and out of sleep.
the whole crew silently filed into town overnight and somehow i saw. they seem to not have particular powers, no pointy teeth, only marginally violent, definitely terrifying, dangerous. i'm drawn right to them, or maybe i can't leave. they take over an abandoned building and its all ours.
i should've written it down right away. it's all gone now.
another weird fucking day. back in memphis. tonight dad wants to see star wars.

my former friend has agreed to meet with me when i'm back in austin, with the condition that we don't talk about what went down at the coop.

my long-distance girlfriend is so overwhelmingly pissed about that that she referred to me as her "friend" on twitter but has been dating so many other people she didn't think it was worth it to tell me.

my long lost ex best friend/lover has finally written to me something that means something. but I'm too dead to know how to respond.

i'm lost in a sea of online window shopping for xmas gifts, one of my least favorite activities in the whole world, but something i get sucked into every year. when will i be adult enough to say "i'm not fucking doing it" and push a little further out of the consumer cycle?

i'm lost in general and i don't know where i'm going, except that it's in baltimore. 

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

what's that confused look in your eyes?

we didn't talk for 70 hours after our 24-hour text conversation turned argument turned ? i had to stop it, i needed space. i had gotten so stressed and anxious that the break felt really good, better than i expected. of course, it was an insanely busy weekend, between Quercus work party, art party, party party, packing seeds, richmond zine fest, after party, dancing at the dyke bar, Food Not Bombs, and dishes for miles. so really, there wasn't any time to miss you.
even now i'm still trying to digest the "fight" and how it happened and when it went wrong, but it's so hard to parse it out later, even though it's all written right there in green text on this screen.
you had been low for days and of course i know something about what that's like, so i did my best from a distance.... mostly by responding to yr texts with comfort and care, or so i thought.
but it's really hard for that type of communication (you express low feelings, i try to comfort you) to be the only thing happening in our relationship. i'm not saying that's all it ever is, but sometimes it does happen for days at a time, and that's really draining for me. i'm not saying that you shouldn't share with me or express yourself. i just want us to have better balance because most of the time i feel like i'm carrying you.
the worst part is that during this discussion, you insinuated that i DON'T support you and that i don't listen enough. i fucking hate that you would feel that alone, maybe that you're so far down there that you can't even hear me.
but actually that's my main issue. a lot of the time i really don't feel like you hear me and when i expressed that, you actually told me it wasn't the issue, "it's not about not hearing you." i'm sorry, honey, but you don't get to decide that. then you say i don't actually ask for support and you're basically admitting the problem: because when i ask, you don't hear me. this is what frightens me and makes me anxious and sad. i don't know where we're going if we have to keep having the same conversation, if we can literally have this argument for 24 hours and not reach any conclusions. and i am so terrified of hurting you, offending you, breaking you, that i don't even think i can tell you any of this.
what really sucks is that i'm so fucking happy here; this weekend was the best i've felt in a long time..... and i've been antidepressant free for almost a month now, and i can't believe i still feel this good. i see a beautiful life for myself here and i want you to have this beauty too, but i fear, i feel we're floating, veering off in different directions. my needs are not your needs, and vice versa. a couple weeks ago, i asked what you wanted for your life, what you dreamed for the future, what your happy looks like. i don't actually remember what i asked you, but i remember your answer was so different from mine. you want stability and contentment, a good job with enough money to meet your medical needs and support a middle class lifestyle. you want the american dream, and i want to dismantle it.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

i feel like i may have broken your heart without even trying, without doing anything, and it kills.
don't you know that my bones are crying, that i ache with loneliness too? that i hate it?

Thursday, June 11, 2015

you're so fragile, sometimes I don't know how to hold you

You are so fragile, sometimes I don't know how to hold you.  I want to be a soft place for you in a hard world, but sometimes  I find myself craggy, a beach of broken glass + pebbles instead of  sand. You don't deserve to wash up here.  When I feel lost + broken, I pull away to spare you, but it apparently  just makes things worse. We both fall backwards into silence + despair.  I want you to reach for me, but I've lost you too, now we're both gone.  How many times this has happened, how we talk it out, but begin again.  I'm afraid that we're too broken to not break each other.  Or I'm a bird, and you're a fish, and air + water will never mix.  Like you can never hear the bug + cricket song, sometimes I feel like you  can't hear me. Like nothing I say will settle. How can I make  you hear me with a shell to your ear, and dreams of having fins  in the ocean, when all I can offer you is a craggy windy brutal beach.  How I try to make you happy but I only make you cry.  How you're longing for the ocean but I can only give you sky. You are so fragile, sometimes I don't know how to hold you. I want to be a soft place for you in a hard world, but sometimes I find myself craggy, a beach of broken glass + pebbles instead of sand. You don't deserve to wash up here. 
When I feel lost + broken, I pull away to spare you, but it apparently just makes things worse. We both fall backwards into silence + despair.
I want you to reach for me, but I've lost you too, now we're both gone. How many times this has happened, how we talk it out, but begin again.
I'm afraid that we're too broken to not break each other.
Or I'm a bird, and you're a fish, and air + water will never mix.
Like you can never hear the bug + cricket song, sometimes I feel like you
can't hear me. Like nothing I say will settle. How can I make
you hear me with a shell to your ear, and dreams of having fins
in the ocean, when all I can offer you is a craggy windy brutal beach.
How I try to make you happy but I only make you cry.
How you're longing for the ocean but I can only give you sky.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

you don't even own your own violence

​when i spill a full glass of water across my antique dresser and remember that nothing is mine, or good, i find your clover, dry and intact, until i try to touch it and its leaves disappear, crumble useless in my fingers. ​​
there will be no nonsense.
​how many times i tried to make you feel this. how even now i am slipping, how hard i am missing. i tried pouring it out for you, a silver stream from the cup -- how even then you missed it. not again. how my stomach still sings, toes tingle. it is all glamour, the imagined beauty of it all. ​​
it's been long enough that i can smile when i think of the park, the beach, the wedding. but at the thought of your face, my teeth clench, the truth of it makes the vision go sour.
But you don't even own your own violence
Run away from home-- your beard is still blue

Monday, November 26, 2012

every time i drive to the bay, no matter how many times
every time i hear an accordion
every time i see your name, whether or not it's you.
every time i think of leaving.
every time i start to move. every time

i cant believe i'm making this trip alone. i cant believe that was ten months ago. i cant believe we'll never be that good again. i cant believe you own my memory. i cant believe how selfish you turned out to be.

at the end of the day, it's just sex. it's all there is and thats it. the distance killed what was already dying. you couldnt hold my small blue flame, my soft shell. i couldnt feel you hold me there, i couldnt open more than this.

i thought i'd hear from you, i thought you'd care enough to write.
i was wrong.
now i know better.

in my life, i'm not looking for love. what i crave is connection, fire, brilliance, and madness. anger and hate can have a place. love is nothing without a this. your love means nothing without respect. your love of self will break the rest.

remember how you were always running away in my dreams? the one where your songs are playing on the radio, you sang so sweetly "if you really loved me, you would be here with me." it was all true.

i imagine you floating, nothing but your love. how easy i was to lose and forget.

Friday, October 26, 2012

between ten moons i could not give you what you wanted.

ten moons
nine lives ???
eight women, the ones you call girls, the notches in your belt
seven years since the livejournal posts
six years since our band's first performance
five more days of sun on earth (six technically)
four a.m. and i hate myself for writing
three - the men who once loved me
two it only takes two. i thought we made a pair but we were never alone in here.
one chance. one choice.

OR three is a crowd. count me out.
two men, cancers. the only loves i've known.

in some ways i blame our familiarity, our set patrerns of communication. i had learned cautiousness, distance: dont ask too many questions, never expect direct or detailed answers. i looked forward to drawing you out but i saw no rush. i fretted over not being able to ask even the simple stuff: are you seeing other people? you never helped, you never said anything first. you never asked me for more. you never even made me come. you threw it away before we had begun.

i'm sorry i was not so easy. not simple. that it was taking time to rub down these callouses and that i was enjoying taking that time. i'm sorry i was not worth the wait.

when you flew me to your parents' house for the wedding, i thought your family was rude, i was hurt by how they didnt make an effort. now i see it was you that was rude - why should they have to bother again with another one-time girl? they knew your ways better than me, they were smart and stayed detached. why didnt anyone warn me? god i loved you so hard those nights, so unapologetically open wide. it was not enough, my love fell flat, you took yours back. i cant believe i was going to write a letter to your parents singing your praises, showering them with thanks. now i'm tempted to do the opposite. you didnt tell your parents about my love, but i told mine. i always believed.

i move through these memories and letters, replacing each swoon and vow with its opposite.
this is your way, it's only fair.

I dreamed you were so sorry.

the love doesn't go away.
the love dies at the wall of lies.
all these words unravel off your forked tongue.
do you even believe yourself?
this last letter tries so hard to be convincing, but i don't buy it any more than you do.
what a fool

i'm trying to unlearn your love
after realizing you meant
nothing you said.

if everything is true, then
what's left?

i've been running over all these words trying to find one thought
one phrase that might be a clue
it's killer
i can't find anything
it kills
you said you really loved me
that i didn't need to be worried or scared
that you just wanted to give life a shot
with me at your side
you made me believe
you told me to trust
to let go of what i held so tight
to breathe and open my tight fists
unwind in your arms and heart
i did it and i lost it all
why should i ever have believed
someone like you?
every small disagreement we had
rooted in this:
you only care about yourself
you live in the moment of your desire
you place yourself above the rest
you see yourself as better, deserving
you won't agree with any of this because
that's part of the game.
you can talk about the universe and
love all you want, but when's the
last time you put someone else first?

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

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

Monday, March 05, 2012

Finally realizing the truth. I just need to talk straight. I'm afraid of being this way: clingy and crazy and scary. I'm afraid of him being something else, something that doesn't want the same thing. What can we do.
I'm afraid that we won't be what we want. That it wont work when I do want it to work.

Put our heads together. Press mouths open. Hearts beating as one, matching breaths. Close, open. What heat, what magic! The feel of our tangle, the mess of us.

Saturday, October 02, 2010

me: yr always running me off

Jerel: well
I don't know what to do
I'll feel bad either way
but one is more in your interests than mine so I go with that one

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

here's to our wings, not knowing why they wilt

fuck my heart in my throat for choking my voice and letting it linger. fuck this feeling all the time.
today i worked for six hours on a bibliography of criticism, reviews, and articles about margaret cavendish. it was intense and i'm glad i'm not working tomorrow.
tonight, the full circle group met for the first time this semester. it was morgan, four of my close friends, plus hannah and luna, who seem to be organizing, and kelsey from recycling. i felt a little out of place at first, but i think it does make sense for me to be there in some ways. the group is talking mostly, i think, about relationships between body and food, but i think that other body issues will enter the conversation as well.
since the meeting, i've been screwin around in morgan and aimee's room with them, eva, and renee. we are ridiculous. very little homework was done. which means i need to go now and finish studying for my world cinema midterm tomorrow and also do my history reading, in my newly tea-christened textbook. i think it is the fate of all my textbooks to be covered in tea this semester. at least this spill was green, not black.

listening to: why are we building such a big ship? - vultures

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

didnt i didnt i didnt i

this week has been BIZARRE. my alarm has been messed up and i've woken up hours late every single day this week (not counting sunday, when i did not wake up, because i didnt go to sleep, and i still didnt finish my paper, but at least i turned something in) and i've missed some work and some class and a fucking exam, but i am making up the exam on friday. pretty much everything has been really up and down... i know that i keep saying that and it's sort of a theme for the semester, but i really mean it this week! didn't i say a while back that it seems like every week gets crazier and more intense?? i think it's true, because this week has just been absolute insanity. the weather has been BEAUTIFUL ever since the weekend, just like spring! which is crazy, after the fucking snow attack last monday. the weather has really helped to improve my mood, which basically means distracting me from the shit that i have to do. i am gonna go ahead and talk about yesterday in list form since it was just crazy.
--alarm clock somehow silent, woke up at 11:40
--sent yet another apology email to carol howard
--upset and talked to brett, who convinced me to go to class
--danced and class flew by! did an awesome stretch
--got an email from an otherkin type who is coming here in the fall... YES
--shower with my new tea tree body warsh. contemplated singing, but didnt.
--picked up a mysterious package from the post office, but i'm not allowed to open it yet.
--WORK. looked through archival photos and giggled with emily
--bossman informed us that my coworker/friend is withdrawing from school... i got really down and didnt know what to do besides send her a facebook message, how lame is that.
--vegan cajun dinner at cowpie!! OH YES I DID eat three bowls of etouffee!
--morgan takes me to the secret hammock and i get barefoot outside for the first time in far, far too long
--forced myself to go to the library to study for anthro mid-term
--talked to rachel on gchat instead!! sine we last talked, her life has become completely insane!
--talked to risu-kun the otherkin on gchat!! WOW SO EXCITING
--library closed at midnight, i saw TWO possums on the walk over the bridge!
--brett and i distracted each other for an hour or so
--tried to work on anthro study sheet
--talked to JEREL on gchat for hours! it was fucking great and intense and weird and damn it if i dont miss him like hell sometimes.
--finally went to bed around 5:30. i felt sort of guilty because i'd had my lamp on the whole time but my roommate seemed to be sleeping fine and she didn't complain. today, my alarm fucked up again somehow, but it managed to be an alright day anyway i guess. i rushed around trying to finish my study thing for anthro but i barely used it on the exam after all and i think i did okay anyway. went to work. talked to brett on gchat but kept having to hide the window from my bosses, i dont know how successful that was. WOOPS. i wanted to stay late to make up for some lost hours but i had to meet with bradshaw at 5 to talk about my progress and my paper. it turned out that he hadnt looked at my paper, so he hadnt seen how bad it was and he didnt get the note i left with it. there were a few things i had intended to say but couldnt because even listening to him talk about it made my throat close up and all i could do to keep from breaking down was keep drinking the fucking rose tea that he always gives me. and he kept saying things like "you cant flog yourself, that's just not productive." and he kept saying that i need to take more initiative but also that i need to chill out. we talked for an hour, but mostly i was just listening, laughing at the appropriate times, nodding, and trying not to fall apart.
tomorrow i am seeing the school counselor. i can't wait for this fucking week to be over.
this weekend is the beginning of spring break! my parents are driving up on saturday to pick up my sister and take us out to dinner at tupelo honey where i will eat veggies and drink wine and talk with my wonderful family. on sunday, me and new friend christian are road trippin it to chicago. he can't drive but he is making cookies. i will be so grateful for the company, and i know he will keep me entertained. i hope it's a big ole bonding experience, because i think he's really cool, and i'd like to get to know him better. in chicago, i'm staying with brett at the bowers house, tagging along to class and pretending i'm in art school for the week. i am really excited and nervous.. there's so much to DO and sometimes our visits together go really nicely and some of them are not good. there's been so much anticipation, i feel like it HAS to be good! i am hoping that next week will keep up with the pattern of the semester by being intense in some new ways and then being relaxing in others. you know what i mean? you might not, but you can imagine. anyway, everyone should send good energy to me and my vehicle on sunday.

Monday, December 08, 2008

you offer your version of apology
my anger dissolves into sadness at
our unstoppable divorce. i can’t stop
falling deeper down, you’ve got me.
where do you want me? like this?
and now? my fear, always
underneath, pulses under your cold
hands, my heat bleeding fuel
for regeneration, over and over
the answer and question. then again,
i’m never ready, i was always
left undone, half-baked and
out of breath. later you’ll
admit it, we go so fast, quick:
question -- is it my fault?
of course, he can’t stand it, how
bad i want it. you’ve got me,
unspun and squirming,
not sure of how to love. am i
doing it right? my feelings in a fight

Sunday, September 19, 2004


i've just had an absolutely crazy, very great, yet very surreal 6 days. tuesday brandon got here at about midnight, and we sort of accidentally stayed up all night. his family, who were also evacuating new orleans and heading to memphis, got into town at 5:30am and came to escort him to the house of the friend they were staying with. the plan was for him to stay there until his family left on friday, and then hopefully stay with my family for the weekend. however, as brandon found out 45 minutes later on wednesday morning, this home for refugees was also being occupied by another new orleans family, and was located in olive branch. therefore, brandon showed up at my house after school and never left. thanks to my wonderful parents, who will apparently take in any stray. he, brock, morgan, and i hung out at home for a while before heading to pick up tarah and eating a lovely dinner at memphis pizza cafe. LA met up with us as well, but she and brock had to go home before tarah, brandon, and i went to play in the park and go out for dessert. brandon and i went to sonic, where i got the goddamn thickest vanilla shake of my lifetime and we sat forever listening to the tribe called quest album i had recieved in the mail that day. which is great, by the way. back at home, i did no homework and got little sleep. brandon was feeling guilty about invading our home, so as a favor to my parents, he drove morgan and i to school on thursday. he was supposed to go to the zoo with his family, but something happened and he just wasted a bunch of time driving all the way to olive branch and back out to my house a couple times? there was some craziness that happened and it turned out that he was supposed to pick us up from school, which i didn't know, and had katherine drive me home. which turned out to be nice because she got to meet brandon for real and inhale cloves with us on the patio. that was nice although i wish politics hadn't come up... that's okay because i think they still like each other. mom took me to get my new reading glasses and also to get my regular ones adjusted. when i got home, katherine had gone home, so i bunkered down to do some homework. morgan and brandon kept me company, and made sure i got very little work done. they went to pick up some backyard burgers for us, and i managed to complete six physics problems. eventually i gave up so that brandon and i could go crazy. LA came over in the middle of it to work on something for art class, and while we loved seeing her, i think she was annoyed that it took her so long to get her stuff done. morgan also was working on an art project, and i had a hard time sitting still for her to draw me. sorry, guys. i hope you both get an A from the brilliant mr. berlin. once everybody was done working, brandon and i listened to kid a and beck and had a lovely night. he took us to school in the morning, this time because our parents couldn't. he came to lunch, and i got to sort of show him off. he let me eat half of his sonic toaster sandwich, and life was good. i think he had a good time, even though lunch is so short and i felt guilty that he had to drive all the way out to school just for a few measly minutes with my posse. i tried to convince him to come to all three lunches, but he wouldn't. oh well. he had to come BACK to pick us up. morgan had to do something with ms. kitts, so while we were waiting, we sat in front of the school listening to iggy pop and smoking cloves. it was the real punk rock. when we got home, we lay around on the futon forever waiting for plans to get made. eventually we hopped in the car, turned on the fugees, and went to pick up laylee and alice. on the way we saw about 23957023575320 cops and they stuck around to make a theme of the night. it was pretty weird, but we had a really wholesome day so nobody minded. it was just damn weird. anyway, we couldn't think of a goddamn thing to do so we drove all the way back to midtown and got milkshakes from java. everything was blocked off crazy because they were setting up for the cooper-young festival. being at java was sort of depressing, but nobody really suggested leaving. we ended up buying this cd called "nose songs" by a local guy named müller who uses melodies to bob dylan songs and writes his own lyrics. we then decided we were hungry, and somehow the collective BRILLIANCE of alanna, brandon, laylee, and alice made us decide to go to molly's where we ordered literally nothing but chips, salsa, bean dip, and cheese dip. SWEET LORD. we all felt bloody AWFUL after that, as you can imagine, so we high-tailed it home. we all lay on the futon in the dark and cuddled. brandon and i listened to the cd while laylee and alice gossiped and giggled. LA finally brought don over for us to meet him at like 8 something and we dragged ourselves out of bed to rent a movie at black lodge. it took us forever, but we finally came home happy and ready with "heathers." in the middle of it, kevin showed up with motherfucking william, who was in town for his mom's birthday. we turned off the movie and talked to them for a few strange minutes before they left to explore the city's changes. we put the movie back on, and alice fell asleep quickly afterwards. it ended some time after 1am, and we drove laylee and alice back home and saw 239057352 more cops on the way. i slept allllll morning long-- brandon didn't wake me up until 12, probably prompted by my father, to tell me that i had to be at theatreworks in an hour. the first rehearsal for the show was three hours long, but it went pretty well and i had a good time. even though i was anxious about getting home the whole time. if we weren't going to miss two ensemble rehearsals for voodoo, i would've tried to get out of that one. for brandon's sake, of course. he stayed at home and watched raising arizona and rock n roll high school. back at home, we sat around on the couch for a while before heading over to the cooper-young festival. to be honest, i don't know why we went, other than to see people. i don't think we stopped at any booth for more than a minute, and we only stopped at about three. we just sort of mosied along hoping to glimpse a familiar face. we did a good job of that, but then we never really talked to anyone for that long, unless they ended up joining our procession. it was a really weird concept to even be there that way. we eventually made it into java, after latching onto brock, eileen, mouse, and some friend of somebody's who i don't know. in java we found becca, daniell, laylee, kevin, and william who we sort of sort of kind of attempted to make future plans with, but did a horrible job. brandon and i got really hungry but didn't want to eat at the festival. with yet another craving for pizza coming on, we grabbed morgan and high-tailed it over to memphis pizza cafe where we had a strange meal because i made morgan feel to guilty to buy anything since she'd forgotten money. i'm a horrible person and i'm sorry. then she had to go home to work or something? we dropped her off back at home. we went on a quest for greenery and ended up on the metal floor of peabody park's jungle gym. so that was a failure, but we had managed to enjoy ourselves nonetheless. i love the sound of trains going by. we then rushed to studio to see garden state, which i had already seen, but brandon hadn't and he loved it. i was really glad. plus it was sort of a perfect goodbye movie. at home we listened to julie ruin and cat power before going to bed way too late. we woke up at 7:30 and layed around for a while in my tent. we went to breakfast at IHOP and pretended to be a pair of happy collegiate artists taking joy in life's simple pleasures-- coffee and cigarettes. it takes me forever to eat so we were there for an hour or so? i apologize to everyone who has ever had to take a meal with me. back at home we had a second anti-climactic ending to our surreal little venture. we sat around for a while burning cds. i mean come on. but seriously, folks, it was a good time. brandon left at about 1pm, rolling away towards union inside a round, green little car. he didn't look back, and i couldn't look on. i went with the family to see sky capitan of the world tomorrow which was a very silly, but very beautiful movie that took my mind off things until i got brandon's home-safe call. new orleans is still above water. it didn't even rain.

listening to: godspeed you black emperor! - sleep