Monday, January 15, 2018

feel like writing ... and then i don't

maybe i should just stop trying so hard.
i mean, i still need to be focused
but i can loosen up and not be a prescriptionist about everything
or perhaps not.

Sunday, February 21, 2016

not enough

i am starting to come to terms:
you'll never look at me the way he did.
and that's okay
because you're melting ice
and i'll savor you as long as i can
but we'll never be more than temporary

sure, that time has stretched past an anniversary
but the only significance is what i attach
and it takes a lot of work to be the only one celebrating
your words might not be empty
but they feel light as feathers when you can't back them up

another world, another life maybe
but i can't subsist on your scraps
and i've made all the excuses i could to delay my return to the world
so we'll go through the motions
fill the emptiness with each other a little longer
but before too long i'm out the door

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Out-of-Practice Practicing

i haven't decided yet what i'm gonna write here but that's the point i suppose -- to purge all the scum floating on the surface of my brain, to shake the dust off, whatever. today is valentine's day, which excites me because hearts are my favorite colors and sweets are on my list of favorite things. i like the idea of doing something important or meaningful but either nothing of import has happened on this day for me. which is not to say that none of my lovers made an effort, just that none of them made enough of an effort for me to notice. that doesn't mean i'm asking a lot, just asking for the right thing. like some people don't push any of my buttons at all, and some push some pretty nice ones but less and less over the years does he push the ones that i need. and fluff without substance is not enough to sustain me. i guess it was enough for him but there was something missing that grew more and more evident over the years. until i had to leave.

blabbity blab.

Monday, December 7, 2015

It's time to start writing again. Maybe not blogging about window shopping and crazy thrift finds and social commentary but something to keep my head from exploding with all these thoughts. I have too many blogs that I've started and stopped and I am trying to find an island of persistence. Something that doesn't erode away.

Not sure where that it but I'm sure that path lies down a bed of words. That I won't have any gasoline left in my tank unless I find a reason to use it.

I lost the meat phoenix there (haha, "metaphor" but I can't type and my phones autocorrect is nonsensical). No, I lost the metape or but I am not going to self-edit because being conscious of the act of writing while acting it out makes the magic disappear. And the magic rug revert to a dingy old thing only good to dust the dust under.

So I am writing without purpose without a destination in mind. Writing until I move myself to something else. A few minutes is better than nothing and I'm starting somewhere. Here somewhere.

Monday, October 12, 2015


You ask me to define freedom
like I even know what it's like to be out of chains
my mind holds me captive
more than any threat could.
Freedom is quiet and freedom is peace
and freedom's a bullet in the head

Mama’s Losin’ It

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

snip snip



There's a building down the lane,
its windows blackened by
years of abandonment and dust.
They all drive past without so much as a glance
but inside is a nothingness so complete
inside is where i want to be
send me to oblivion
oblivion with you.


Standing on the fault line,
watching the space between my feet grow.
If I keep treading two paths
I'll be torn apart and tread no more.
I can't cling to this branch
and covet the ones above
but abandoning the girl I was
to pursue the me at the top of the mountain
makes me free in place,
terrified (of the potential).
maybe i should welcome the fall,
give in the tempting oblivion of the abyss...


Your mine / you're mine


Scum on the surface
cloudy but acceptable beneath.
nothing's pristine --
no, not anything worth substantial (having/being/wanting).


Beneath the line
lies a sine wave that isn't regular
but one that peaks and falls at random.


electricity is made between the hairs of your arm and my fingertips


The world outside
doesn't understand the microcosm inside me
but i don't either
so it remains uncharted.
to explain my actions or my words
would stump the best translator,
would trouble the wisest philosopher.
as i'm neither, i know even less.


ignite the engine and shift into gear
start the ignition
and shift it into gear.
we're racing away
because we just can't stay here.
running so fast in these circles as we do
i'm dizzy and lost in the tiny space i occupy.


tap your feet!
clap your hands!
celebrate the shards within yourself
that you haphazardly glued back together.
they won't stay intact forever or more.
nay, they'll likely be shattered again
but celebrate still,
since the patchwork that's your heart
was won by struggle and loss and great pain
and forged by love and hope and resilience.


why apologize for who you are?
your weaknesses soften your pride,
your shortcomings give you trajectory/perspective/the drive to ascend.

lost in the minutiae,
lost in the star dust.
will anyone find me outside the safety of my own shell?


My mind is racing,
feet are pacing,
and I'm bracing
myself for a storm

Look What You Started pt2?

you turn my insides out
but only in a good way
you destroy the power of my weaknesses
and all I can do is thank you.

and i feel more alive
than i ever did before...