In the dawn of my youth
my innocent eyes saw the same different things.
Everything was great.
Those simple pieces of nothing
I perceived as thrills that
steered my emotions in the perfect directions.
In the spring of my innocence
any object held was a toy.
Every obstacle was a game.
Inside every box, bag, or envelope was a present.
Behind every door, wall, shut window
everything I couldn't see was beautiful.
Then the door opens and I am led to my reality,
disappointed that there is no burst of color.
How sad it is
when I care enough
to erase all that I know in my head
so I can follow along your story
and truth will become lie
how sad it is
when I tore down my pictures
to no longer think back to those months
so I can follow along your story
and I can forget about there ever being an us
how sad it is
when I write this
to recollect my thoughts
so I could pour every minute back
and your story would crop them out
how sad it is
when I scribble out the tic tac toes on the wall
so I can walk by the brick by brick without
remembering at all
how sad it is
but if youre happy
it's not so sad
Three seventy-five. At my current muscle weight, that’s the amount of force, in pounds, with which my fist smashes into my opponent’s face. Flesh molds against my knuckles, vessels rupture under the impact; I am that unstoppable object, that destruction you can only watch. I am that confused, hurt, angry child. I channel it through my arms, conduct it through my knuckles, watch it spark and jump from fist to cheekbone. This is the therapy I so wantonly crave, so needed. The only place I can vent the full wrath of my frustration upon the world; or…at least, a single member of it….
Jump back three days.
Why can’t I see you more? I text her. Because I don’t want a relationship. She says. I don’t need a relationship. I just want to see more of you. I tell her. I’m afraid I’ll invest too much. She says. I don’t understand. Is that a bad thing? Seven years of friendship, two of off-on dates and rendezvous. How could you get more invested? What else can you spill after your hearts in a pool at my feet?
I drank a lot that night.
Jump back four days.
I’m coming out that way. What are you doing tonight? I always initiate…everything. Always the first question, the first proposal, the first, the first, the first. Am I that threatening? Going out with friends. Homework and going out is all this woman seems to do. Maybe one less night with friends, one more with me wouldn’t hurt? Cool. Celebrating a birthday with friends, we’ll be out and about. Maybe we should meet up? If I’m here, she’s got no reason to refuse me…right? I thought distance was our only problem. Maybe it isn’t. I don’t know. I don’t want you to see me stupid drunk. What a stupid excuse. I actually want to see you stupid drunk. I will at some point if we keep things up.
Long story short, a guy she sometimes fucks is going to be wherever it is they’re going, and she doesn’t want to have two guys she’s seeing in the same vicinity. What does that make me? I’m getting frustrated with all this confusion and sideways talking. My group incidentally ends up at the same place they are. I don’t even talk to her face-to-face. I’m such a sporting guy. She goes home...alone, to my relief. I get stupid drunk with friends. But never forget to message her back and act like everything’s cool.
Jump ahead a week.
More conversations to clear up why I fill only one void in her life lead to more confusion. I’m frothing with it. It’ll be in my mouth soon. Wait…I taste it already.
“Let’s drink and pick fights,” I say to a couple buds. Two hours out, we’re sloshed and trading licks in a back alley. The guy that had taunted and jostled me in the bar follows us out and picks a fight. Says I’m too drunk. Not worth it. I hide a smile, raise my arms, “Let’s see.”
Shirts are off. Left hook to my ribs, I pivot an elbow, deflect with forearm. This leaves his side open. I duck his wild right-hand and drive a straight hit into his open spleen. He hits the alley wall. “Still want to take a drunk?” I taunt from my knee. He comes back, still sure of himself. I’ll show you what confidence does to us, my friend. He puts up a boxer’s guard and comes back, more cautious. Friends and enemies cheer and joan around me. I don’t hear a thing. There are thoughts. Dark, confused, smashed together, waiting to be dealt with. I focus on all of it. I focus on his face. I listen to the conversations that leave me more hurt and alone than they should. I lean into a false waltz stance, he doesn’t notice the feet. I notice his. He’s more drunk, on less, than I. Every time you breathe, I hope you think of me. The mass in my mind flows through my arms and legs. I charge and he punches straight where my head should go. I dodge right, grab his wrist, snap in and pull out, stringing him in an invisible flaying bed; my left elbow crosses his solar plexus, throwing him to the ground. Knees pin his arms. The hate, and anger, and confusion, and helplessness dissolve between fist and flesh, arc across the pain in my heart and the bruises and blood flowing freely from a fool....
Never entice a man with a need to portray his problems upon a heedless world.
His friend steps in and plants a well-thought-out fist against my jaw. The one on the ground is down for the count. My friends don’t step in. They know me. I roll off him before his friend’s hit can follow through. Now I have physical pain to channel, too. I grin and my assailant isn’t comforted. This is the release I need. This is my way out. This is what will help. Fuck you, world. Fuck you girl. Damn all of you for your games and your feelings and your mysteries. To hell with why you think you need to hide your heart. Wear it on your goddamn sleeves. Fuck your dishonesty and your insincerity. Fuck your exes. May you all drowned in your lies and guilt and shame. Damn you for assuming I’d ever judge any of you, for not taking my love at face-value, for thinking I had anywhere near the ulterior motives you all harbored. My left hand grabs his left elbow, simultaneously blocking a right jab and flipping his arm out of the way for the full force of my right arm into his ribs. A cacophony of bone and flesh giving way to my wrath meets my ears. He yelps. Never yelp when you’re trying to be strong for a friend. Keep your damned lips closed, asshole. He recovers only slightly before my right meets his face. My arc is perfect: the momentum of muscle as it curves the natural twist of a muscled arm, the darkness of my life gathering on knuckle-tips like obsidian gems glinting in the dirty hallway between worlds of vice and vindication, the cording muscle releasing the pent-up rage of a thousand lives gathered in one body.
Connection shatters worlds. The horror of life bleeds across his broken window to the world. The reflection of my jeweled nirvana wink across his eyes. See the world I live in, failed rescuer. See the hopeless honor I hold in my bosom. Sleep with the knowledge that even when you try, someone will always be there to flash the dark, jaded realities across your eyes…and bring you to my level.
The other friends won’t budge ‘till I’ve stepped past. They part like the Red Sea for me. My ark is empty until I interact with the world tomorrow.
Brief peace is better than none.
My words aren't forming.
My thoughts are storming.
Because of the wall.
That I'm trying so hard to go around.
I only miss you at night.
That's where the absence of your arm around me is painful.
Even the warmth of your body next to mine is gone.
That gentle glow of heat that pulsated off your body onto mine has left,
Leaving me cold with only blankets to wrap around me.
The simple pressure of your fingers locked with mine is gone as well,
Leaving behind empty spaces.
You left holes in my life.
You ripped down the wall I had worked on for 20 years.
The comfort of that boundary around my heart crumbled when I met you,
And though it felt right when you were around,
Now that you're gone my heart is raw from exposure.
The hurt you've caused creates holes,
And I can't build up my wall fast enough to prevent them.
I miss you more than almost anything.
It's such a different sort of longing than what happens when you actually lose a loved one.
I didn't lose you, you pushed me away.
Even though you're alive, you've killed your presence in my life.
This yearning to have you back is pointless,
And yet night after night I find myself hungering to hold you.
But it's only at night.
That's when I miss you most.
Dam I need a blunt,
can't put up with this cunt,
I'm fealin a new person
My heart just feals like cursin...
I've bin hear,
in this new home,
sober a new rome,
If i had my shear bong
you'd sure would hear a cheer song.
I'd feal you out so happy,
have my words churned out to sappy?.
I'm way out,
I'm not burned,
I get it I sure learned
far out mars rover,
spot me out like your'e lucky clover,
out in a big croud
I'm rare like a drout cloud,
like I said,
I miss my bed,
eatin all day,
freakin all may,
Give it a doobie a precious fuckin ruby
Not lit Not fit
How bout a bubble and a bowl,?
no trouble nore parol,
you know i'm slick won't get in no shit,
just help a nigga out and blow me a hit.
I love my jane we plan to mary
when she's gone my world gets scary..
So be it if i'm sketchy,
I'm posted monalisa ,
see me on the wall,
touch me and I'll fall,
trust I see it all,
you walk right out the door and leave me on this floor,
I've seen it as it's low thats why I tend to flow,
Best of what I know is what minds like to show..
don't come back that lock is latched,
holdin steady bit attatched,
I need a hook to hold me steady.
some one strong that will be ready,
You gave me a copy of your final art exam piece,
It's still stuck right there, you know,
On the wall beside my bed.
A scene of nature.
A gentle stream.
There's a mountain in the background, with a castle on top.
And me, in the foreground,
Oh, how lovely of you.
I remember, you took my photo in front of that big green tree.
In the woods by my house.
I wore only shorts and a vest, despite the cold weather.
(I remember the goosebumps.)
I couldn't wear much, you didn't want my clothing to be too visible;
You wanted to transform my body, into the trunk of a tree.
As if, I wore
only bark and moss.
Oh, but why, oh why?
When people saw my bare arms and shoulders, you told me that
they asked you, whether I was naked when you took it.
I remember, when you told me what they'd said,
I've never liked my face in that picture.
What is my eyebrow even doing?
And I've never quite been sure about the shape of my cheeks.
In fact, if anything,
I've only ever really liked my hand.
My wrist, quite thin,
and somehow my hand has a delicate look about it;
The fingers curved at the ends,
The cold had made them pink and soft.
Oh but, why, oh why, Darling?
Why of all things,
Did you have to make me a tree trunk?
Strong and sturdy.
With the moss,
And that other tree, the one that clung to me,
Twisting, growing around me.
There's nothing I can do now,
but stand here and watch you evolve.
Oh, you told me to get help baby, but what if I didn't want it?
To me, there's only ever been one solution.
But, you made me the tree trunk,
It's what you did.
And now you need me,
Now you grow from me.
Now you cling to me.
No, I cannot stir now.
For, I am a tree trunk, (I need to be strong and sturdy)
And now I know, only too well, that if ever I were to fall,
I would be bringing you down with me.
Upon the crumbling moss-streaked wall,
A single shephard leant,
As he sadly counted peaceful sheep,
His mind on unpaid rent,
his loving wife, and doting son,
this cool sweet scent of night,
and now we leave the fretful shephard,
He’ll go to war and fight.
Through a wall
a thrashing arch
an uneven surface
a dark white crash
Through a motion
a back twisting
a whip of hair
a surrounding of blue
Through an experience
a breaking of the surface
a rush of new life
Through the wave
the beer in front of her is just about empty and she watches the foam slowly sludge down the inside of the glass with thinly veiled disgust...she manages a fake smile as someone nearby is telling a group of giddy faces another embarrassing story about her...she crushes out her cigarette so clumsily a spark of tobacco coal leaps out and lands on the floor...voices are traveling around the room and screwing up the lighting, sweeping the ceiling and splashing through the windows out into the city night...fairly drunk she steps outside and tries to remember what had she been thinking a moment before clacking down the stairwell in her most comfortable high heels...the early summer evening air is cool in the back of her throat and the breeze pulls the newly dark lime tree leaves spreading that indescribable scent of mature summer green down the empty street...somewhere down the block a car alarm finishes it's cadence leaving the lone barks of a dog...the feeling she had about not deciding what to leave behind she'd lost somewhere at the beginning of this party...she'd find herself crying about this new regret long before she knew why...another addition to the myriad topics for insomnia that she'd write on the bedroom wall with her eyes...recalling the painful parts of the past with so much more depth perception than the good...like her happiness was an instant suffocated in years of desperation and insanity...she had to convince herself that she was happy with him...that she could be again...that she would stop wishing for him to disappear and leave her blameless for not loving him back...as it would turn out the wreckage was so minimal and she was the one forced to disappear...it took her two hours to pack and she was gone...