(no subject)

"waking up without you is like drinking from an empty cup"

missed connection

dear beloved,

through eyes you jump, winking at me, luring me and making me love you again before leaping off to your next resting place. this time you might be killing me. this time you've lingered so long behind his eyes that I am literally fearing for my life without him. but it's you, I know. and I think that you and he must fight constantly. you want to pulse and surge in his veins, but he is passive, often drunk, and un-excitable.

you lovely dirty piece of shitty perfection, why can't you just settle down? you're dooming me to a life of untested polyamoury. you're making me wonder if I am even capable of loving a human being - so full of contradictions. I simultaneously demand consistency and unceasing change.

now that I've tasted you, I'm afraid that I might have to start believing in god again. no human comes close, nor is ever able to encompass for more than a fleeting moment your expansiveness. you are so fickle about whom you inhabit, and when and why and for how long.

I'm aching for you and wondering if I'll ever be able to recover from this particular loss. this gorgeous man whose eyelashes when I first saw them, long and slender and springy, made me think of my aunt's swimming pool and that diving board dipping terrifyingly close to a deep end I was not sure I could survive. and sure enough here I am frantically reaching for an edge to hold on to, or shallow enough water to get my breath.

give me some space this time okay? I need to catch my breath. I need to catch my breath. I need to stop seeking you out in corporeal form. but of course I will seek you until my death.

I am, after all, yours unerringly,
a.

flowers for rena lee

my friend bill told me about rena lee a few days ago. it caught me like a knife in my belly. i wasn't expecting it, and it hurt, even if i never knew rena lee.

bill keeps telling me that when i see that man of mine that i should grab him and kiss him, tell him i love him. because i don't know when it will be the last time i see him. he says to never walk away angry.

but what if i am angry? what if i'm not the one who forgets how quickly life sweeps us away from each other? what if i keep bringing flowers for rena lee but she won't look at them?

tonight i want to wrap myself into a ball and cry. because galen has cancer, and bia has cancer, and some of my friends hurt so much their insides are curled into hard knots. and outside my window a policeman is chasing a black car. and there is a war i can't stop. and my niece's fat bottom is broken up into a thousand fat folds that i wish i could bite, and my body screams for one of those but i can't have one.

my heart outside me

and there was my heart. right in front of us, perfectly still, and I had nothing to say. i could have taken it back right then, but i wanted you to see it and know why it can't live inside me. turns out you were never so complicated. your hand was limp around my beating, drifting heart and i wanted it back completely. mainly because i sing louder when you let go.

yes. the external heart is a problem. it gets lost easily and i can't feel you stir. it means my love is assumed and glossy. and, i don't really need to get over you. i'll just put you on the shelf next to my mother.

oh it is a moment to cry

at one point a man that i loved fiercely accused me of abandoning him. today i received an email that proved to me that i did the right thing. he was a beautiful bird that i tried to keep in a cage. i didn't do it on purpose, i still don't know how i did it. i think i just paid too much attention to him. he started gnawing off his own leg as they say, and i saw it and knew i had to throw him out. i had tried to open the cage, but he never flew out, which i took to mean that he didn't want to go. but he needed to go. so i threw him out.

and now he has nice new feathers. he is happy. just like i always wanted.

and all i can do is come here to my secret place to cry and put these stupid words down. who knows why i want to share them. maybe i need to throw them out too. i need them to be gone from me. it is hard to believe that the happiness of someone i have loved so deeply can make me this sad. or maybe it is because i know that i wanted so much for him to find this happiness sooner, so we could get on with being so mad for each other.

alas. we don't get to pick these things do we? we can only see them, or sense them and wait. like when you plant bulbs in october. you know they're there, and you're pretty sure that they will bloom, but you just have to wait. and sometimes they don't, not because they hate you, but because sometimes that is just what they do, they don't-bloom.

where do words go when no one knows they're there?

it's hard to get words out these days. i have filled whole journals with romantic rubbish and never minded before. but now it feels like every word has to be worthy of print, every song ready to record. god there are thousands of pages of garbage for every one word worthy of repeat in the world. why can't i let myself remember that?

so this is my place. this is my secret place to cry. to be romantic, or rubbish. to pose the questions i cannot bear to ask of any person. what's compelled me to this place was a sleepless night and a day paralyzed by the fear of not being good enough for the world. not skinny enough. not smart enough, prepared enough, happy enough. it took me until 6pm to shower. and then i dressed and got right back onto my bed. sitting here with my computer. but i have all 80's all the time turned on. so that is helping me want to be alive.

the truth for me right now is that the world feels like more than i can carry. there is too much to feel, too much to fix, too much wrong. and so many people to love. i am flooded with the desire to love, and it literally is washing me into nothing. like on the beach when you write a word in the wet sand and watch the waves slowly wash over it - it becomes harder and harder to see and then it disappears.

i like that analogy because i like the ocean. i mean i really like the ocean. it is bigger than me. it has no name, no face. it neither loves nor hates me. it doesn't wash me away because it has some agenda. it is just doing as it does. like that tiger that escaped from the san francisco zoo. it was just being a tiger when it killed that boy. that's what tigers do.

i can't be perfect. okay? i can't live up to even my own expectations of who i ought to be. but today perfection is not what i'm asking. today all i'm asking is to be able to leave the house before it is midnight again. i keep trying at that. and i keep failing. ending up back here on the bed. on the computer. my eyes stinging. hiding here. hiding here where i am distracted from the fact that there is a world.