Curtain Call

I denied it.

Denied the fact that you and I may have changed beyond even spiritual recognition.

Denied that you don't love me anymore.

Denied that you're not coming back.

I was angry-

Angry at you for being unwilling to forgive when I already have,

For transgressions more numerous and painful than you can calculate in your lifetime.

I forgave you.

I saw past so many imperfections to the hopeful and loving soul that lies beneath and now I'm angry.

I bargained.

I tried to be anything and everything-

Sex kitten, aloof, emotional, delusionally domestic, persistent, pushy, patient...

It never really mattered.

I cried.

I cried a river whose source lies in the wounds rendered so long ago that it seems like a different life,

And those tears wash over more than swollen cheeks as I hope and pray that I won't always feel like a failure,

And now...

Well.

I'm supposed to accept the loss.

I've been through four stages but can't get to the fifth

Because your eyes and your words give me lift until I crash until I burn until I yearn to be done with a spiral that's taking me

Further

and

further

and

further

down into a pit that I can't just crawl out of

And the poisonous allure of maybe one day possibly we'll see

Drinks me into a state of permanent heart inebriation.

My heart is an addict to the the ghost of who you once were,

But necromancy ain't my style-

So why am I digging up graves and rolling in sins long since past?

Put me down-

Let me go-

Before I find myself dead like me.

If only I could bring myself to regret what we had...

But that little girl decorated in curls and awe renders that an impossibility.

She is the best of me

And you bring out the worst.

I'm broken and scattered to the four corners of an ugly world.

This scavenger hunt of a search expedition is perdition in its most raw and frightening form.

I can't quit you until you quit too,

And quitting was never your style.

No, you beat that dead horse until its corpse began to rot and you forgot that you couldn't ride it anymore

And you're sore from barebacking the memories of dead dreams.

This is macabre at its finest-

Dressed in black and mourning that which cannot ever return-

Can we lay this to rest?

Must we relive the pain again and again and again?

Until our skin is replaced with scar tissue so thick that Buffalo Bill would pass us by while we begged for an end?

I want out I want in

I want

and want

and want

And no returns on this investment can be found.

Cash out-

Peace out-

Blow out the windows on this unholy cathedral.

I worship this evil lusty seduction of the senses no more,

And maybe one day we'll find redemption in the arms of another who is blinded to the sufferers of a cycle that we

won't

can't

break.

Coat Check for the Sinners

I'm no prodigy

No future politician nobel prize winning artistic genius of epic proportions, bringing war to the poor and peace to the war makers decorated with awards from my stunning military choreography of resource proportion and outsourcing and divorcing my ideals from my heart

No

I'll never be a wall street shark rolling dice with people's futures taking cash under the table for a bottle of Korbel to celebrate a killing of day that'll kill hundreds in a third world country only to sleep just fine at night

No

I'm not a fashionista dropping dubs on hubs for a car you can't afford to show off razor sharp stillettos that walk all over the dignity of sweat shop sweat and blood and tears, piercing through the gauzy cries of protesters who believe that human beings deserve to be treated as humans

No

Never a singer selling out her soul for less clothing and more shame and less talent but more sales and more regrets with less to hold onto at night than an autotuned autobiography of vapid devolution noise pollution and the broken image that so many little girls look up to while cursing their freckles in tarnished bathroom mirrors

No

But I am more powerful than your laws and your money and your empty words

I

am a woman

Wrought with curves and spirit and doubts and convictions

I

am a mother

This womb has brought forth a life, which is more than most can say, and those who can will tell you that that kind of life shines a light into the darkest corners of confusion and delusion and you bet your ass that girl means more than the world ever could to me

I

am a lover

That will knock you on your ass and have you coming back for more but only in the tones of the utmost reverence and respect and- well- flattery will get you- almost- everywhere

I

am a bitch

Who will not take your bullshit advances and admonishments and abberations sitting down- no, expect the bitch slap to embrace you in pearls of clusterbombs filled with rage like you've never known and never will again as I stand by my beliefs in a way that lets me look at my daughter with a firm sense of self-respect

I

am a friend

Who holds hands and secrets and dreams in the safest place possible, wants nothing more than to shielf your beautiful heart from the ugliest this world has to and will offer up, and will not back down when you cross those closest to me

I

am a force of nature

That you cannot comprehend, control, or conceive of

I

am scared

and confused

and hopeful

and loving

and trusting

and hurting

and fucking

and crying

and laughing

and living

and that is the fucking point

So

check your expectations at the door

They are not welcome here

I Wish I Meant It

This is my goodbye.

I want it to be dignified and graceful.

I'd like you to remember it as the moment where the woman you could have had simply said, “Enough.”

Walked away, and in her wake, you found a sense of loss

I want you to realize that I was the best thing to ever happen to you

To remember all the times I wrote your papers for you in college

Or the times I bailed you out with our debate coach

The times I cleaned up after you had a wild night

Or the times I gave you wild nights all our own

The times I bent over backwards to impress your mother, your friends-

you

Or the times I took care of you when you were sick

The time I gave birth to your daughter after carrying her for nine agonizing months while you played Xbox with people you never have and never will meet

Or the times I brought her to work and class, even when you had days off

The times I made our shitty rentals into homes with Goodwill shopping trips

Or the times I was there for you when no one else was

The times when I let myself slip away so that you could be happy

Or the times I isolated myself from my family and friends because I loved you that much

The times we used to talk about the rest of our lives together

Or the times I told you how much you meant to me

The times I begged you to care enough about me- and us- to show me

Or the times I cried when you wouldn't

The times I made excuses for the way you made me feel

Or the times I pretended not feel at all until I didn't

I want you to remember all of this

I want you to feel all of this

Because I sometimes wonder if you can feel at all anymore

You see, I can't

Neglect and maltreatment has rendered nerve endings numb

Except in your presence

And the prescribed cure is distance

So, goodbye.

This is my goodbye.

I wanted it to be dignified and graceful

But through a tear stained and bruised heart, I'm not sure how much grace I can muster.

Goodbye.

Haunted Houses

I was looking

Searching and excavating

The corners of a life not yet worth exploring

For a clue or hint or

Hell, a signpost would have been nice

Something to point me in the right direction

And in the process

I found a whole lot of twisted tunnels and dead end roads

Closets with skeletons alive and kicking

Tap tap tap dancing to a rhythm of regret

Cobweb etched emotions and sharpened blades of apathy

With coats of armor brazenly boasting a sense of distance and disdain

Dreams deferred or abandoned all together

Drinking straight vodka around an out of use Ouija board

The ghosts of memories waiting for their moment to speak

Speak to self-inflicted and propagated misery and seclusion

Masks and hats stacked perilously high in rooms filled to capacity with jaded ideals and convictions

A tribute to a dozen masquerade existences

Leered knowingly in my direction

Fifteen different wedding gowns

Laced with ennui and discontent

Floated eerily before my eyes

While portraits of lovers scorned scowled from heartbroken heights above

Tarnished tiaras of fairy tale lore littering the floor of an autobiographer's ending challenged ambitions

Diaries dotted and crossed with the precision of an expert actress

Writing a disillusioned screenplay for her post-mortem celebration

Filled bookcases that would never be read

The floorboards buckling with every tear soaked step

And lights flickering in a manner that would make Hitchcock proud

This haunted life closed in on me with the suffocating stench of if onlys, buts, and apologies.

I resurfaced from this nightmare without map in hand but

Any direction away from that terrifying spectacle would be good enough for me.

Little Victories

I’m standing

A little bruised and broken, but

I’m standing

On my own two feet with gravity pulling me down and my heart’s song pulling me skyward bound

I’m standing

Soon

I’ll be dancing

Singing monologues of victory

Just dancing

Performing stories of how I snatched glory from defeat

How, waltzing, I took my life back into my hands

Because I learned to stand

I’ll be leaping

Springing, bounding through the air

I’ll be leaping

Teaching my daughter to let down her hair

I’ll be springing forth in skin tested by flames of tribulation

And I’ll know without a doubt that I have found my salvation

As I skip with my little girl through life, hand in hand

Because I learned to stand

I’ll be flying

Soaring high across a topaz sky

I’ll be flying

Using clouds for dressing and stars in place of diamonds

I’ll be flying

My soul will take off through an endless night to pull back the sun and spread the light

To bask in the glow of an angel’s wings and know the peace of belief without sight

The flames of potential fanned

Because I learned to stand

But now

I’m standing

Looking out upon the road

With bumps, potholes, hills and valleys and challenges unknown

But I’m standing

And I know with time I’ll find

Each step will bring me closer to

The day that I will fly

Epic Goodbye

THIS
Is a revelation
The realization that
I
don't need
you
anymore

This is my Superwoman moment
Minus the spandex, cause baby girl can't be doin all that
But make no mistake
These hips and tits and curves that swerve
Will knock your ass ten ways to Sunday
And you won't even see it comin.
Not because of my invisible vehicle, though
No, that ain't my style
I'll be ridin' past your sorry ass with more flash than Vanna White's pearly whites
Singing
So long, sucka!

No, this is my Scarlett O'Hara sayin to your Rhett Butler
Frankly, I don't give a good goddamn anymore
Oh dear- did I say that?
What I meant was,
get off of my petticoats
Because I'm goin places you've only dreamed of
And I will not be draggin you around for the rest of my life
Be gone, let the wind take you far, far away

No, this is my Legally Blonde ass whoopin
I will take you any day in the proverbial verbal boxing ring
Dancing complex conjunctions around your simple fragments
Float like a simile, sting like a bitch (that's me)
And with a solid right I'm in the right hook to your
Woe is me duck and dodge
It'll be a knock out lights out peace out
Catwalk of a victory lap in stilettos that read
fuck
off

This is my angry country song that would leave
Nancy, Miranda, Martina, LeAnn and Jo Dee
Proud and fist pumpin
Hell, Alannis is about to start taking notes
Because I am done
Feeling deflated, subjugated, underrated, ill-fated and obligated
To someone who doesn't, couldn't, wouldn't understand
When I said that you can take it or leave it
And it's your loss now
Because I already left and you can't take it back

So, this is my goodbye.
It's more than and everything that you deserve
Now that I've had this revelation
Realization
that
I
am worth a helluva lot more than
we.

Overture of but, if only, and regrets

So I'm sitting home alone
Mind spinning, world reeling
Not an unfamiliar sensation, these days
It's been several weeks of similar turbulence
You know, I'm usually pretty good at predicting the plot twist
But I don't see the ride slowing or steadying anytime soon

I know I made the right decision
It was between
Steady, reliable, accountable, and whole
or
Messy, intense, volatile and exhausting

It seemed a pretty easy call to make

But the problem is
He was a drug
Intoxicating with a killer hangover
And now as I shed the monkey on my back
Its claws are digging into my nostalgic artery
I'm fearful of bleeding out
As I shake and shimmy and play normal

He was bad for me
Wrong for me
In so many, many ways
What we had was sadistic, masochistic, unrealistic
And a couple of misfits trying to make it is not an option for me right now

But damn

When it was just us
Untouched by time or responsibility or,
in a very potent sense,
consciousness,
It was ethereal
My soul was shining and smiling in a way that made my spirit quake
I was on fire,
searching for fuel to fan the flames
I wanted to be engulfed in the waves of warmth that radiated from our escape

I didn't want to see the sun come up

I was content to stay tangled in bed in tangles of emotional baggage with just enough tension to make it scary
Coming up for air only to get enough to plunge in again to the heat

But

Mama always warned me not to play with matches

Because when a slight gust of tomorrow kicked up
It was an uncontrollable blaze too hot to manage
Eating away at my obligations, ambitions
And giving me the sensation of drowning without a drop of reprieve in sight
So we'd make another drink, turn the other cheek
And, after all, tomorrow is just another day, right?

Except the days add up
Disappointments, self-induced and prescribed, strung along my neck like a stale candied necklace
Rubbing raw against the pulse that made me
me

I tried rehab
But miles of distance couldn't douse the embers
I kept going back and back and back
Until my back was against a wall and it was time to
jump or drown
I jumped and
I'm still going down

I've been clean for six days now.
I still get that urge
The ache to feel that burn
But God willing, I will have the grace to accept this pang,
the courage to resist it
And the wisdom to recognize the damage it's done and will do again if given the chance

Breathe in, breathe out

Gravity requires that the ride slow down eventually.
For now, just have to hug the curves and wait.

Long Post

"For Lilli"

She has a heart so big
You feel your life's woes swallowed whole by the compassion of her soul
And you can't help but smile
Because she has an infectious kind of affection that renews your faith in man kind because hers never waivers
She hands out chances like candy at Halloween, even if the trick or treaters are only monsters in disguise
Because she doesn't know how not to love
And with every disappointment that flogs her in admonishment of her giving nature,
Her flesh peels back and she's slowly but surely being stripped and whittled away to nothing but a fragile vessel for this blood pump
pump pump pumping
give give giving
and I wonder when she'll run out of self to give
And she laughs and she smiles and masks the frantic panic making her manic as she wonders what she did wrong
And he
He has a soul so black that the devil needs a night light to sleep there
A conscience so empty the echo of rhetorical questions vibrates out a warning that only small children and dogs can sense
And behind the smile he flashes her way is an unapologetic joy in the power he holds over her
Because he knows
He knows he can take and take and take
And she'll take what she can get
And she gets what she deserves
Or at least that's what he has her believing
And as I see her shrink away
The rage in me expands and I want to smack that smirk off of his face and into a million yesterdays
Back to the first time he made her think she was less
the first time he made her think it was her fault
the first time he made her think she deserved it
the first time he made her think she'd never do any better
And I want to pull her away from this psychosis inducing hypnosis of a spell he's got her under
And tell her
You are beautiful, and worth so, so, so much more
Because if I told her that today
She would laugh
And smile
And shake her head
Say I don't understand, can't, won't, understand that he's a good man beneath it all
Misunderstood, if only I could see what she sees and I hope to God I never lose my sight like that
Because she's blind to the mind games he's playing with a stacked deck of attacks
And every time he raises his voice hand battering ram
She closes her eyes tight and waits for it to pass
Like it ever will
She's got a heart so big
You get lost in it
I just hope she doesn't lose herself in it all.

- - - -

"Ex Post Facto"

I can't say this to your face
Probably because you have this adverse affect on my typically steely spine
But I feel like if I don't say it
I'm going to keep staring at the futon you made up before you left
And wondering what I did wrong
The thing is
You got under my skin in a way I hadn't anticipated
And it bothers me more than you'll ever know
It started as an innocent, casual flirtation
And we pledged it was nothing and meant nothing and wouldn't become a thing
But the more we promised a vacuum
The more my mind became one
Filled with wild thoughts and wonders and dare I say hope?
Totally irrational and completely uncalled for
But I can't think straight anymore
You're ten shades of wrong for me
And I am the opposite of what you need
And yet I died a little inside when the smell of your cologne had faded from my house
It wasn't supposed to hurt
I wasn't supposed to feel anything for you
And now it's four in the morning and I can't sleep in my own bed
I'm laying on the futon you made up before you left
Because you have to leave everything in its place
And for some absurd reason
I feel like your place is here
So I sleep on a bed of metal rods and a beat up cushion
Because somehow it keeps you close by
I wasn't supposed to miss you
And God knows I shouldn't
It isn't as though our time together was some romantic, idyllic engagement of two hearts beating as one
It was an awkward dance of confusion delusion and happenstance
And I should be angry
But I'm really just hurt
It wasn't supposed to hurt
I wasn't supposed to hurt
I promised you there would be no hurt
And yet here I am
Laying on the futon you made up before you left
Because I can't bring myself to put it all away
Because I feel like I'd be putting you- us- away
And there wasn't even an us to begin with
But I can't seem to snap out of it
The pillow doesn't smell like you anymore,
But your ghost is still marching in military time around my kitchen
And if I'm angry at all it's at myself
If I could do it all again
I wouldn't have responded to your call
I wouldn't have had you here to begin with
I wouldn't have let you into my thoughts
I wouldn't be laying here on the futon you made up before you left
Wishing my phone would light up with a text
Full of apologies and wishful thinking and hints at what's to come next
It rained the whole time you were here
The weather now is cool and crisp and all I want is the rain to come back
Because the wind bites in no matter what I do
Laughing at me thinking of you and you and the thought of me and how stupid this whole thing is
It's all wrong and all gone and I'm all melancholy movies and songs
Because you got under my skin
And I'm under the blankets
On the futon you made up before you left
Lost in this world that doesn't have a place for me
But you've been deployed to stand sentry at my heart
And until you go on leave
I'm here.

- - - -

"Crazy/Cool"

When I was seven years old
I used to think it'd be kind of cool to be legit crazy
You'd get to live in this alternate universe
Where time and rhyme combined with the hope that binds the universe to create a concoction more intoxicating than anything Dad was sippin' on
So yeah. Pretty damn cool.
But after awhile came high school
With its cliques and style and rules of engagement you didn't dare defy
When the boys didn't care about how smart you were, but your cup size
And since mine were always big enough
Crazy fell to the wayside.
I was a choir-theater-speech-geek
But even in the land of the marginalized, there are rules by which you must abide
So... crazy? Not so cool.
In the land of collegiate debate
Logic and argument took the place of fashion plates
Everything else was just fluff, slowing you down on your double breathing way to another plastic trophy
Between the races to who could get to extinction first, or worse,
Well,
it was a different kind of crazy I guess, but not quite the same.
Now
Now that I'm in the real world and there's bills to be paid and work to be done...
Crazy kind of sounds like fun.
I want to burst into song in the middle of the streets
Steppin' up with a dance number to a jazzy song without a time signature
Because music like this is supposed to take you higher and higher and
I wanna get high
Stuff my pillows full of clouds, hang stars from my ceiling and make wishes until I drift into the land of nod
Where there's neither devil nor god- just giggles.
I want to love someone so deeply, so fiercely, that's absolutely completely wrong for me
But be so lost in the infatuation that my mind hangs a sign that says no common sense allowed
I want to cry and cry until my soul runs dry and the tears serve as antiseptic for a heart broken so long ago I don't even know where all the pieces are
I want to laugh and laugh until I cry tears I didn't know I had left until I'm whole and holy because
I want to be seven years old again
Living breathing joy
If that makes me crazy, so be it.
If it makes me a masochist- bring it on. I'll wear the crown proudly while you bow down
As long as I'm seven years old again
Living in an alternate universe where time and rhyme combine with the hope that binds the universe into a concoction more intoxicating than anything you could serve me
Yeah. Sounds pretty damn cool to me.

- - - -

"Dance Floor Interlude"

Is it too much to ask
That people mean what they say
And say what they mean
Without subtext in between, intentions unseen, and...
In other words
Can we just cut the bullshit?
It doesn't make sense- playing mind games for an end game of a double loss
Using bows of ego to draw across puppet strings, screeching out an off key symphony of he said she saids and
maybe it's just me
But I can't keep time.
And I'm tired of trying
My toes are already bruised from too many off beat tangos
I've retired from this graceless dance and, as a wise wallflower, the more I watch, the dizzier I get
Now, maybe this makes me a traitor to my ovaries
But I've always been a fan of full disclosure
You're hot,
you're not,
take a breath mint,
take it off,
take me home tonight,
let's just be friends,
be lovers, be more,
be done,
it's all in good fun, and you're not the one,
I didn't come,
Yes, yes, yes, yes!
No no no no no.
Get your shit together,
get lost, get lost in love with me,
get ready,
get real,
I feel, I feel...
I feel.
I wear my heart on my sleeve,
Not because it's fashionable, but because it's functional.
See, confusion leads to heart contusions, and as someone whose accessory of mangled ventricles had had its fair share of lumps over the years,
I'm not about to be someone else's sucker punch.
Honesty may hurt, but really- it's a paper cut. It'll heal.
These endless circle jerks, on the other hand, are like the std from hell
Once you've been burned, you learn, and the sado-masochistic itch to self-preserve and get what you deserve kicks in until you're passing around the rules of the game faster than the herp on prom night
This is the only time abstinence only education should be used.
So for god's sake
Say what you mean, and mean what you say
Don't let
Bullshit
Get in the way.

- - - -

"Horror Flick"

I watched a heart break tonight
I didn't do the breaking, and it wasn't mine
But I watched a heart break tonight

The first take was guttural
Rushed, frantic, panicked
Shards flying in every direction, so small you'd miss them if you'd blink
But the razor sharp edges served as a reminder of their presence
miniature daggers that cut you seven ways to Sunday and you never had a prayer of escaping their painful graze
It was the kind of pain that will stay with you and remind you of what love could do if you let it touch you
And the cries that escaped her fractured soul were enough to make the Virgin Mary weep fresh tears onto a nation of broken children, because that's all we really are when the ego's stripped away

The second take was in slow motion
Betrayal, like a poison, quietly set in through her skin, and as it traced the nerves in her flesh, she was alive with fire
A white hot burn, acid churning, turning her fragile spirit into a forced contortionist as it searched for forgiveness of sins not committed
And the ache reached out, wrapping its icy grip around my vocal cords and stealing away the words that never would have sufficed to begin with before sucking away the breath I had left and leaving me paralyzed while she cried

The last take was bloody
Because the knife he had stabbed was a fucking magic bullet
severing every major artery as she bled out hopes and dreams into a river of self-sacrifice that would never run dry and the tears carved gullies in which the stream could flow
The rapids carried me away as I watched her drowning
Swimming upstream is a losing battle, and I lost a part of her but I think she lost it all

As I mourned her passing, my own tears in memoriam, I said a silent prayer
That I would never watch another heart break
That I would live alone if it meant I'd be spared
That my daughter would never have to fear
That my tears could wash away the acidic venom soaking into the blood stream through wounds left by heart shards and heal her whole

Unfortunately
Salvation is reserved for those who believe without reservation and it took no hesitation to know my prayers were in vain.
I watched a heart break tonight.
And I will never be the same.

- - - -

"Andersen Brothers Rewrite"

I grew up loving fairy tales
Filled with damsels in distress who needed a knight in shining armor to come clean up the mess created by forces beyond their control
And low and behold
They rode on the white horse into a candy painted sunset and off to a happily ever after that I wanted to know
But as I grew older I realized that princes are few and far between
So my fantasies took to the silver screen and my expectations dropped a little
Because Tom may have had Renee at hello, but it took him two fucking hours to realize she completed him
Still
I spent many a night Sleepless in Seattle, waiting for my Harry to meet this Sally so I could Watch Him while he was sleeping, keeping a Notebook of every fluttering heartbeat, and one day, when I read him my Princess Diaries, he'd say, “Here's looking at you kid- you make me feel like the King of the World! I luuurrvve you.”
Sigh.​
Once the film stops rolling, I'm back in the real world
And what's a girl to do?
Because once again, expectations have to take a dip
After kissing so many frogs to no avail, I felt myself turning into Rapunzel's witch meets Daria, and, my stomach churning, decided something had to be done
So I decided I would write my own fairy tale
A love story to end all love stories
The perfect love, if you will
A love that accepts, but pushes for growth
That enjoys a caress, but enjoys cuddles most
That will cry with you without wiping away the tears because they have healing value beyond measure
That will laugh with you until you're so exhausted you feel your stomach might cave in
That will hear you out when you just need to bitch a little longer
That will hold your hand when those masochistic tendencies grow stronger
That will praise your brains, stand in awe of your beauty
That will adore your faults, bask in the glow of your high notes
That will be patient, kind and all that jazz
I've found my one
It's me.
I, from here on out, am in love with myself, and nobody else will hold that piece of my heart
It is a love affair to remember when the embers of the suitors past grow cold
It is a passion to hold on to when your lover strikes your soul
It is the anchor that keeps you grounded when new romance begins to unfold
And until death do we part
I will hold the key to my heart
and stand sentry to my own weak frame
So hit me with your best shot
Me and Pat got time to spare

Ain't no thang

It's a sense of peace
No need to impress, though I'll still dress
like I do
No expectations or presuppositions
It's all just one quiet ride down the lazy river
And I'm more than pleased with the pace of the flow
I'm sorry if this seems odd-
I won't deny that it is
but when you enter the room,
my old flutterfly friends spring to life
and I haven't felt that way in awhile.
Usually, the thought that there's not a symbiotic reaction
would quell the flight plan taking shape as you approach
But for the first time in a long time
I guess I'm not too concerned
Perhaps the fact that there's no chance of it advancing
Creates a sense of satisfaction with the brush of an arm
I'm more than aware that you and I are just friends
Which is why these illicit flutterflies are all the more enjoyable
At least I'm kind of admitting it now

Champagne Lemonade

I had forgotten the taste of sunshine
It's like champagne lemonade dancing on tastebuds
Bringing me to a whole new place
Showering me the crystalline nature of laughter
And the brush of fingertips as the flutter across my hand
And a smile beaming through the morning mist of confusion
And the glisten off of the ripples in a mirthful set of eyes
And for a minute
I just forget the overcast skies I've been staring into
And the rain that's been pelting my window
Though when my eyes open, I know they will be back,
I soak in the taste of sunshine
For
just
one
more
moment.

Not as anonymous

I feel drunk.
Not that I am,
at least, I hope I'm not, but
I feel drunk.
I'm a klutz, traditionally,
but my words have always been my saving grace
slicing through uncertainty
and painting masterpieces of understanding, and now
I feel drunk.
See, when I drink, my words grow dull,
and my verbal work looks like fingerpainting,
muddying any prior understanding and adding to the mess,
and now
I feel drunk.
Because these days,
it seems like every time I open my mouth,
I may be sober as a stone,
but it's whiskey talking.
I don't even drink dark liquor,
but it's whiskey talking.
See, I don't know what I want,
let alone what I need,
And my mouth just keeps running,
Trying to prove it's not drunk at 10 in the morning,
and the sloppy masonry of this defensive wall
indicts its every failure to reassure.
It's not that I need, or want, anyone right now
but it's what I'm supposed to want.
So I slur out a sad excuse for hope
and though I swear to drunk I'm not god
I'm drowning in the inebriation of doubt.
It's not about decisions or predictions or predicaments
It's about me.
I've been weaving verbal tapestries for so long
I don't know how to put the loom down to appreciate
a thread of truth.
So I feel drunk,
And as I double check that the proper punctuation is present
in these beer goggle ramblings,
I know I need 12 steps back to me.

Pen to paper

I feel like I should write
Pen to paper I pause
Waiting for a stream of emotion, flowing in articulate springs,
skipping over pebbles of metaphor and alliteration,
humming along to the tune of truth
but

nothing.

I shake my pen, assuming default, and bend forward again.
I wait for the surge of light to burst forth
sparkling in its pain and intensity
blinding in its raw and honest nature
shining a path for poets to come
but

nothing.

I pull another sheet of paper, thinking a new texture would accommodate.
Hovering over the clean palette
I hold my breath in anticipation for a kaleidoscope
A vortex of color dancing the merengue
To the beat, beat, beat of a broken heart
Tripping over one another in the faltering rhythm,
The result a medley of confusion
but

nothing.

I call on the power of gods that may or may not exist
praying that they might remove the burgeoning mass of madness
protruding from my common sense
A cancer of logic feeding on hope and a Lockean perspective
I put my face to the paper- maybe by osmosis?-
but

nothing.

One tear trickles down my cheek
The first to bear witness to this trainwreck
It's salty essence tracing a path down my face
Almost as twisted as the one that brought me here
And it hits the paper

The saddest part of all is that tear
that single solitary tear
writes the novel of us
It is succinct with the depth I wished you had to begin with.
And it's, I'm, done.