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| oohhhhhhhhfuuuuuckk.
pamela is in the city.
immediately this city feels safer. nobody.nobody.nobody fucking else speaks like that to my heart.
we smoked by the east river with the trees and ate up some tea for hours in punjabi.
seeing this girl. i cant explain. but that kind of crying hysterical and relieved and sosogood. the relief cry. the one that says-you still can do this. my train tracks. i havent been there in forever..wonder what theyve knocked down...
ooooooosh.
sheand i had written this poem on new years and shelet me have it-
Hear the crows?
they tether themselves around your teeth
humping the sky
i found my skin
i found a collarbone, an eyelash
i found a doorknob and called it
a prayer
humming
here it is
the jazz and bumps
dropping shingles on my roof
and the footprints look bloody
but are musical notes
i called your name and
fell flat-- was it a
hummingbird?
a flag, two coins
without worth
a tongue, the drop of
footprint
rhythms
your knuckles are a lust, rusting
i save like snow
pocket you,
the crumbs of
my dreams
i swallow from your
eyes. | | |
| i wonder how long the poem has been sucked out of me.
hysterical & suicidal and medded up and tortured and 15.16.17.....at least i was cooridors filled with words. words sweated and soaked thruandinto my sheets and id wake up cheeks branded in verbs.
now i am gross and zombied
even my dreams dissapoint lately.
i want a highway. im too much of a wimp to go run off right now...maybe its harder than just that. pamela is having my head and heart all the time she is in tucson sleeping in shelters when it gets too cold. so much of me wants to run out there and be like wind like wind but i cant hurt my mother like that. i dont think people understand its not so much fear of her anger---but hurting her...
i am terrified of myself. my wild parts being shelved..i make people capuccinos all day and tangle my hands till i am speaking only waterfalls and calls of hearts and highways far away.
SOMEBODY DRAG THE DRAGON OUTTA ME I AM PALER THAN THIS CEILING THICKER THAN THESE WALLS
i am not okay.
i dont think i said that in forever.
i end up writing letters to jonathan end up finding locksmith advertisements on business cards on the stoop in the shadyfuckinalley where he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me like armageddon like somebody call the firemen...
and what do i expect to find? a rose? a piece of moonlight?
i am relentless and fucking crazy and cry a littlelittle bit often but never the way i need ot
and brian the magician who i love who sleeps with me some nights and my body knows and holds me when i get nightmares and i want to give her hundreds of billions trillions of everythings and
except i cant promise monogomy so then we are in a house that i am intent on saying-this is not a house
and he says-it is a house and
maybe i oughta go dancin..go dancin go dancin with a girl and stomp boots and curl like cats
ohhfuckwhat is this feeling this feeling this hopeless this...
| | |
| looking into your eyes was i swear the first poem i have written in months | | |
| something was familiar.
im lost in some part of a rabbit hole. something is familiar sometimes. im looking for something.
probably one of the most dangerous things about me is that ill crawl into the arms of something..someone who has hurt me. because my need to be held outweighs the way theyve hurt me. and when the person has done some real damage..the situation gets twistedquick.
im writing here to avoid the work i have to do. things sink and quicksand and im tired of saying-i think id be better off running. i think i am running in the bad sense by staying here. i dont want to leave him alone here. and maybe some other things too.
shitman shit. i gotta do this work. | | |
| "hail the moon in all her simplicity
and hail the sky in all her simplicity
and hail the earth in all her simplicity
and hail the trees in all their simplicity..."
i feel so damn censored all the time.
i supposed to go to pratt orientation tomorrow.
i cant breathe my mother. her pendulum swing..i cant play mother either..
i need out this house sooner than later....im gonna work at pratt at the bookstore or something. something that ends up like 200 a month which is....something of a hole in a room in a hole in the wall housing spendableness if that..but...fuckman i dont care..ill ask my brother
pam comes wednsday. ive been waiting for this girl my whole life to peek into me and me into her and "oof"
1.2.3.4.5.......10 kinds of magician..
i am confused in the way i let people kiss me. i am confused in the way theres too much testoterone in everyone..men, women....everybody want a piece o you...everybody want a piece of da pie...its shameful.shit we do to each other. shit we crave.
my ghost selves race too fast sometimes..
they dont like words like "rape" "hospital" more so they dont like the digging..the times when somebody can get under the surface and peek in and wave..because its what theyve been craving so fuckin bad..
so i didnt sleep last night...or much at all lately. due to racing around with my night friend as well as this head and heart and everything trying to do that whole untying knots thing..detangling as opposed to breaking.
if i am going to be anything...if i am really going to be my own bridge to my ownself than i need to unlearn this censoring business. who gives a fuck whats on the internet or not or where it is...
and to change the subject suddenly i crave that part of dumbo, by the water, with the beauty on the walls and. suddenly i crave a sunset spilling into a room..
i should sleep but instead i want to wait till 12 and go to where i know some of this tinfoil will be taken off. this comfort uncomfort that makes my heart thump along.....everybody needs a night friend...errr.....
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