Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Steel?

Nothing was hidden in the darkness,
everything had just changed colors

The air,
heavy from the rain
My arms,
goose bumps crept up the skin

On that black steel park bench
lights cast shadows across the grass
Surrounded by chatter
and wine sodden laughter

Cars honking
footsteps echoing off brick walls

All I heard was your sharp breathing

They escaped
wouldn’t stop fighting

Could I calm the storm?
Could I break the haze?

On that black steel park bench
lights cast shadows across the grass
Surrounded by chatter
and wine sodden laughter

the clock ticking in my brain
down
down
down

quarter turn and I am falling

five crimson tear drops
four smothered screams
three blinks
two shaking hands
one deep breath

so sweet and full
so timid and haunting
pressing on my lungs

puts mind into a frenzy

My life is an integrated circuit
I’m inside of my body
But I don’t feel it

You just think its funny

Grave

One by one,
the days fall beside us
like yellow leaves.

We have no conscience
of what we're becoming.

Month by month,
the rings on our tree trunks,
like old wise eyes,
grow wider.

And winter lends them a dead disguise.

Now time-
like an ocean knows tide –
like a notion to toss about the house
and lose inside the couch.

And piles of our thoughts run miles in the dark
Just tryin to get home.

Age by age,
we rhyme with our seasons' rehearsed routines.
Still turning and returning.

Now I'm wide as the ocean.
Now I bleed roses.

And you are just a mark on the map of my past.

But I am a road I wind along alone all day until the coast.

It's easier being alone
You're a shadow of the old
And I want something new

We're walking in the sand,
And you are holding my hand.
Your eyes are sparkling like the sea.
And I just see you and me.

Come quick,
the water’s up to my neck and I can barely breathe.
Yet all you say is “take it slowly”.

I was swimming in a sea of strange bodies
One of them was
Me

I can hear the clock ticking in my brain
down
down
down


I would just
wake up every morning with a new bird in my cage
I would just fly away

quarter turn and I am falling
so dangerously
so precariously
off that cliff

so sweet and full
with crimson lips
and amorous hearts
they are dying

I would just
float away in to the mist
into the frost
into the dew

The bitter light filtering through the leaves
casting eerie shadows amongst our hearts
and tangled limbs

So timid so haunting
I cannot breathe
altitude
so cumbersome

Pressing on my lungs
the breeze so sweet
puts my mind into a frenzy
wondering


If that box I buried is
A grave or a time capsule

I believe

One of the most difficult challenges I have had to overcome is my parents splitting up. I had to throw away all my childhood notions of love and all that I had learned about family being infinite. I had to watch my dad cry, hear myself scream, envy my sisters strength, and hate my mom. When something as strong as a daughter’s love for her mother twists into a terrible, sickening hatred, it takes so much to forgive. All my sources of strength were depleted – the vision of my future, my childhood (fragile on pillars of lies), my family – shattered.  All during a time where I needed so much strength…

She sat me on my bed one summer night. She said it. Said she was leaving my dad. I screamed. No. I don’t even remember leaving my house; I must have flew down the stairs. It was late and dark. I was running down the sidewalk, not even feeling it scrape my feet. Running faster than I’ve ever run in my life. And if you know me, you know that I am the opposite of athletic.  My dad was yelling my name, crying for me to come back. Suddenly I was. Back, I mean. Collapsed in the grass crying. My dad scooped me up and I could tell how hard it was, for I’m not a child anymore, and most of the time I forget that.

Pain striped me down, grounded me. But it also sent me reeling. Pain is something tangible. Pain is something real. Pain is undeniable. Only after I hit rock bottom, could I truly appreciate happiness again. Only after I collapsed, crumbled, cried, I could begin to feel again.

Time moved on, but it took me a while to move on myself. To let go. But one day, about three years after, I realized how truly hard it is to ever forget. I blended the edges, smoothing over the awkwardness at holidays, the quiet house, the scheduled dinners, the avoided questions, the prying neighbors. I moved on, I thought, but all it took was an old family album, with yellowing pages and priceless baby pictures to make me realize that strength is really just an illusion. I encountered one picture of my father and mother, in high-rise, faded denim, and out-of-date sunglasses, smiling at the camera, with their arms around each other to make it all come flooding back. A pile of bricks was on my chest; I couldn’t catch my breath, I went numb. I allowed myself to cry for one minute and closing the photo album and myself to all that I used to believe is love.
Now I believe in a different type of love. It evolves, it changes, it even switches persons. But it is always there.

Drowning. Revisited.

"Those make a profession of deceiveing, not our eyes; but our judgement, and of corrupting and adulterating the essence of things"

I can't believe I let you in. Again. You're nothing I haven't felt before. My mind is flooded, but I don't want to drown again.
But I crave it, like no other. I keep trying to find excuses for how I feel about you - how I've always felt about you.  [truth is: all those excuses are a lie.] Its not something I can explain. This is the first time ever that I cannot put what I am feeling into worlds. It has never been this physically impossible and that scares me. I guess what scares me the most is the fact that you make me feel something so strong that it is undeniable. Your eyes, amber, kind, and in mine - an ache, just like I remember. Everything the same as before; everything totally different. The one thing I forgot was how your lips felt against mine (how good your lips felt against mine). You fed me the same old bullshit - comforting in a way - familiar. Everything familiar. I've been here a thousand times before. You're a realist, I'm a romantic. Somehow taht machienery collides and creates something beyond perfection, gears turning, flawlessly oiled. There's something about you, that I can't let go of. That I can't find in anyone else. No one else's lips match mine like yours do. There is something about you that I can't let go of. There is no escape. There is no escape. There is no escape. [If I found one, would I even take it? Would I leap out that door, hit bottom, and start running? Would I leave it all behind?] (I doubt it) The beauty of its undineable. It almost makes it worth it, almost.

‎"Addictionis the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when th object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit that youwanted- an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but who now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore- dispite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have that thing even one more time. Meanwhile the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you're someone he's never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is, you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a pathetic mess, unrecognizable evento your own eyes. So that's it. You have now reached infatuation's final destination- the complete and merciless devaluation of self."

There's something so powerful about darkness. Night masks whatever you will it to mask. It makes everything more illuminated, even though that sounds paradoxical. Never, ever saw it coming at all. Every moment was that moment, every day was that day, every second was that second, and I've lost myself again. Am I ready to be let down, time after time, just like before? How much more can one person take before completely breaking? It comes and goes in waves, but those waves are so powerful, I have no choice but to ride them out. I am only led to wonder why, why I try. I just want back in your head. I'm not gonna lie, I want you for mine. I can't even slow this down, let alone stop this. If I had any sense, I guess I'd fear this, and rethink a minute, but I can't shut it now because there's something in it.
I've given you that look a thousand times before, "I know you're holding something back, I know that look. I've know you long enough, I can read you like a book."
         "I build each one out of glass so you can see me inside of them, I suppose. Or you could just leave the image of me in   the background, I guess, and watch your own reflection superimposed."
I lie awake and think of you, but you're nowhere, you're nowhere. I know you feel it too. There's something about the look in your eyes - they give you away. I wish I could break the surface, more than just ocasionally.

"What if I can't go back? What if I died in the crash? What if the ride was worth it? I mean, who wants to trudge through life, doing everything just right? Taking no chances means wasting your dreams. How can I explain the pure, chilling rush of wanting to something so basically not right? No fear. No guilt. How can I explain purposely setting foot on a path so blantenly treacherous? Was the fun in the fall?"

Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?

Drowning.

Although I didn’t mean to, I lost myself because of you. I molded myself into your world, desperately in need to find a place where I belonged. I changed shapes just to hide in that place. I thought I could live that way, convinced myself that I was finally home. I changed my way of thinking, argued with myself to let my many fears go. They disappeared; I shouldn’t have let them all leave. I should’ve held on. Although I didn’t mean to, I forced my way in, pinned myself to you, did everything I could to stay there. But that only got me pushed away. Exorcized, evacuated, executed. You didn’t need me there anymore. I was lost. I couldn’t get back to my original shape. I couldn’t bounce back. I wouldn’t. That was the last thing I wanted. You were the only thing I could see for awhile. You used to keep me upright; I crumbled. Soon you realized what was missing from your collection of beating hearts. I dove back in, so quickly submerged. So desperate to feel your fickle warmth again. I melted - you grew cold, backed away. I convinced myself that everything was all right, you knew that something wasn’t.
Another time, another place, another you, a different me. What would have changed if I said no? What would be different if we had never met? Every decision, every choice, leads up to today. Who I am, why I’m me. Who am I? Another time, I wouldn’t have given in. Would I? Was I ever that strong to resist? You always made me so weak. Would I go back and see where it leads me if I had said no? If I gave up much earlier? If I stayed in for the long haul? If you weren’t the mess that you created of yourself? Would it have worked? Would it be me? Would we be happy? Another time, another place, another you, a different me. Could I have changed it all?

I should let you know that your unwavering trust turned me into a liar. I should let you know that my revenge hurt me more than it could ever hurt you. That’s probably a lie though, it wasn’t entirely revenge, it was what I wanted (I thought I wanted). If you knew, it would cut you like a knife. Is that what I want? To inflict such pain on you? I could never hurt you like you hurt me, so what’s the point? I made it happen, I make every mistake happen. Was it a mistake? Or were you the mistake? Also, I should let you know that you turned me into a monster. I am living a lie. I should let you know that you filled a hole so wide and so vast, deep inside of me that no one else could ever fill. I’m addicted to the pain you cause me. I should let you know. But, you already know that, don’t you?
Another time, another place, another you, a different me. Could I have changed it all?

You always told me lies, just with your eyes.
I believed you back when faith was tied.
Your words were sweet but laced with spite;
You broke my heart with all your might.
And now, I’m trying to conceal the emptiness I always feel.
The coldness that’s behind your kiss.
I’m sick of you, I’m sick this.
What did we do to ourselves? We wasted so much time thinking that we were in love. We dug ourselves a hole and naively buried deeper.
Too deep. I was never what you needed. I only filled your loneliness for a short while. I could never replace drugs in your life. I was never first place, never! Mind-altering substances were always more important.
I was dirt. I was the ash from the end of your cigarettes. Light on fire, drained of life, of everything useful, left to fall. Ground into the dirt, easily forgotten. I was useless, worthless, broken. You could always fix that. You could always pick up the pieces and hold them together, convincing them to be whole again. They never were, they never could be, but it sure felt like it. You put me back together. You didn’t even have to try. You never tried. Dealing, selling, using.
To me, you always were my drug. The right potency – exactly what I wanted, more of what I needed. Measured, cut with razorblades on mirrors – piercing the membranes. The more I had of you, the more I wanted you. A rush when I was near you, breathing you in, the smell of your skin lingering with the sweet smoke of cigarettes. Burying my face in your chest, listening to the heart inside of you, pumping once, twice; the flow of blood through your maze of veins. Once I grasped a bit of you I was fearless, limitless, …hopeless. You were my addiction. When I didn’t have you, when I wasn’t near you, I fell to pieces. I wished I had more of you, all of you. It scared me how much I wanted you. But that fear turned into power, my personal limits crumbled. You were my sweet, spinning downfall. A rush of blood to my head, the last lingering touch of your fingertips was hard to hold on to. The speeding roller coaster of you fueled me, got me through my mind numbing days. The promise of indulgence made me weak. The more I had of you, the more I needed you.
But you preferred a different drug. But this isn’t really about the drugs, is it? It’s about me and you. Are they two separate things? Could I cut the drugs and the bullshit out of your brain and find who you really are? My hopes were always too high, you were always too high.
This life looks like a sentence. A constant game of falling short, of feeling less than perfect. I felt myself holding back. You saw it all come crashing down.
I was always waiting. I would stay up later and later to hear your voice in my ear to crumble my fears. When I was with you, wounds began to heal, scars began to fade, hearts began to mend; I didn’t even realize that new tender heart was being ripped open. Damaged beyond repair. Doubts swirled in my brain, but they were never whispered out loud. “He’s probably somewhere, stoned out of his mind, laughing, and not thinking about you. He’s happy, and you’re broken. You’re pathetic, why are you still waiting? You’re in love with him? Don’t you know how he will rip you to pieces?” I probably did know; I refused to believe it. I am the weakest person I know.
…but most of the time I’m just drowning.
That night, I remembered thinking that there was always such mystery in darkness. The moon illuminates fear. But we were inside and safe with a single lamp dissolving the darkness. Back then I never knew what you were thinking, and curiosity killed me. I was full of doubt and everything was full of shit. The soundtrack of that one night was the cars rushing by on the highway outside your bedroom window, and your soft breathing next to mine. Your arms were around me, as I listened to your heartbeat pumping, constant, as if I almost asked too much. Then your voice would drift to my ears and I would melt from the
warmth. I listened to the cars flashing by and tried to memorize the sound. The sound you woke up to every morning when the sun was high and dew dripped from the trees. I know now, that those sleepless nights led to the mornings when you wished you were as high as the sun, because the sadness sparkled in the forefront and dripped like dew. I rolled over onto my back with a sigh and stared up at the gray cracks in the ceiling. They rippled and flowed across the barren landscape of white. And I wondered how something so broken could still be strong. I turned my head as you shifted your weight, and I focused only on your deep brown eyes. Now, I know that you are that ceiling. Your very existence is based on pain. You are broken; cracks rip through your heart, they tear you apart, and you are scarred. I remember thinking that you are the strongest person I know. You supported me; your walls held me up, kept me together. We may never had been in one piece, but we were always together even when we shattered, crumbled, and broke.
Or so I thought.
Lied to myself; almost convinced.
Another night when darkness masked your soft features and everything was black and white, leached colorless by the moon, you didn’t let go. For once, you kept my gaze, you pulled me in tight. Holding you felt better than right. It was the fact that I only got butterflies for you, I was myself again, not breathing walking dead. Alive. You took my hand, you didn’t let go. It was the way you reached out for me, for once. Each time I turned away, you tried a little harder. You never had to try before. Cars were flashing by, the earth was spinning, fast, too fast. And a horrible feeling was in my gut. It was the way it felt to kiss you again, soft, warm, content. I was home again. It was the way you wrapped your arms around me, tighter than ever before. Like you were actually afraid to let me go.
Ha! You never cared about letting me go. I was nothing,
I was a ragdoll tossed aside.
It was the way you asked if I was okay, it almost seemed like you cared. It was the way you said you missed me. You missed me. It was the way I wanted to cry, because I let myself do this again. I knew you were going to hurt me again, and I let that happen, again and again and again. It was the way I could never give up on you. I guess I’m just crazy, masochistic. But at least I felt alive again, the lung-crushing emptiness faded away, you melted it away. Even if it was just for one star-kissed night. You never let go, you never said sorry, you’ll never change. You only ever wanted me when you didn’t have me.
I was a ragdoll, tossed aside.
Cracked lips and bloodshot eyes.
Ripped seams and empty screams.
What do I look like? The wizard of Oz? You need a heart? You need a brain? Take mine. Take everything I have.
You didn’t deserve to take away the last bit of myself that I was desperately holding onto. You deserver to die. But at the same time, I want the best for you; I want you to be happy. I miss my best friend. I miss the boy who knew everything about me, more than I knew about myself. You were my everything. I wish you didn’t exist. You are my nightmare.
I should let you know that your unwavering trust turned me into a liar. I should let you know that my revenge hurt me more that it could ever hurt you. If you knew, it would cut you like a knife. Is that what I want? To inflict such pain on you? I could never hurt you like you hurt me, so what’s the point? Hating myself for going back to you, the trust was shattered, I was broken.
I was in mourning of you, the ghost who broke my heart. You still held me in your arms, but my guard was always up; not letting that go. You hurt me, never letting that go. I was so lost. That night, you were in the next room. And I was in his eyes, and arms, and heart. Fed the ache, minds were in a blur, and I was falling. He surrounded me, kept me safe, and sane, and satisfied. Wanted more, and he didn’t dare stop. You were in the next room. A rush of thrill raced through my veins. I thought he knew what he was doing, he did this before. But I had no clue what I was doing there, never thought that would be me. All I could see was swirls of blackness. It was everything, it was beautiful, it was a dream. I never thought I could do something like that. But it grew to be all I wanted, danger, thrill. Even though you were in the next room. Thunder shook the ground, but we couldn’t hear it. The rain washed away what was confined to embrace. Nothing could be foreseen, never dreamed it would happen. Even though we had reached the brink times before. Pristine and new. Raw and uncontained. Captivated, the pounding hearts were unwavering.
You would never know.
You still don’t know.
Another time, I wouldn’t have given in. Would I? Was I ever that strong to resist? You always made me so weak. Would I go back and see where it lead me if I had said no? If I gave up much earlier? If I stayed in for the long haul? If you weren’t the mess that you created of yourself? Would it have worked? Would it be me? Would we be happy? Another time, another place, another you, a different me. Could I have changed it all?
Sometimes I was not so blind, “No shame in crying. No shame in hating. Go ahead, hate him. He deserves that and more.” Dusk falls, insistent, intent. I watch it tumble down. How do you tell your heart no, don’t swell with magic, you’ll only burst? God knows I don’t need more pain in life. Why did I invite it in? Do I have to feel pain to believe I feel anything at all? I listen to the shallow in-and-out of his breathing from my memories; I reach out for the warmth of him, try to draw it into the bitter cold well in the pit of my stomach. I can’t grasp it anymore. I will not sleep tonight. I will cry.
Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly in strange lurches and dragging lulls. But pass it does. Even for me.