Words, Words, Words…

Below are all original works written by me. Though I have been performing my whole life, writing really became an outlet for me…it was where I could express myself for no one else but myself.

The End

What does it feel like?

Grasping so tightly it’s hard to know what it was.

Does it matter if it’s slow? A creeping sensation that overwhelms until it is all you can taste…all you can feel…all you can see. Is it familiar? The record turned silent but never off.

Is it better fast? Saving you just the nanoseconds of pain. Just a little…better than none. When it’s so clear that the road you traveled down you missed all the signs.

But you could not see. You never saw. That was the best part.

Tender tones harsh, cutting. No more salve to heal the wounds. Wide, real. Painful when exposed to air. Subtle but throbbing as it heals. (If it heals.) Even the most innocent statements laced with malice. A test. When you saw it coming…did it dull the ache? Did you prepare to let go? Or did you watch as the approach quickened? Head hung tiredly, eyes cast low. Unwilling to search the ones you lost yourself in…drowning in the depths so deep you’d never come up for air. I swore. I didn’t swear because I knew. Was it surprising still? Did it end in a gasp, a scream, a strangled cry…or better yet silence. The nothingness unwilling to fill void…the gap…the distance. No chaser; no breaking this fall. Did it hurt less when you did not see it coming? The shock as nice as Novocaine? How could you not know? Detangling of limbs intwined easier than lives. Ours. Yours. Mine. The worst of it I cannot remember. What I see is a memory. What I’ve seen was a memory. Such a vivid imagination. They shake their heads. Didn’t you know? Didn’t you see? The subtext…the millions of meaning you unpacked…in the words: The End. Straightforward. The End. I told you again & again. The End. With words. I lied. The End? The End…I told you so. Again & again the end. Wishing. A beginning…And this too shall end…ad finem, ad extremum, ad infinitum…you pompous ass, still caret initio et fine…In truth, it lulls. Foreign sounds to mask the definition known. When?

How to Grieve a Loss Yet to be Felt

It’s here again. This moment. You didn’t realize you had arrived until you’d gotten there. The realization leaves you breathless as the panic subsides. Captive as much as captivated. Or so you’ll later claim. The destination is vaguely familiar. The landscape, the background, even some of the same players. Adjustments are made to the treble and bass. A dimmer here, soft focus spotlight there. It’s what movies try to recreate with technical precision and fail at so beautifully. A language never learned but understood between unwritten sentences and punctuation; unspoken words–time unspent. But you’ve been here before…you said “again”. Third party observations and second hand accounts you’ve shrugged off are looming, ever present…gloating knowingly: I told you so. You put up a good fight. Controlled eye contact and personal space respected. But the fight was lost before you tried. The natural rhythm and rhyme course over the artificial…sweetener. So valiant. Zero calorie filler cannot overshadow the richness, the flavor. It just calls foul the ethical, bold attempts. As the mixture slips and slides over the tiniest crevices of your mouth you can taste the real and the unreal. But I can’t. They’ve protested before…demanding that you reconcile the translation that only you seem to understand. This destination that only you could arrive at alongside them. Protests fall on deaf ears: I never meant to travel this road. I never thought I could travel this road…so clearly having understood the boundaries…the infinite loneliness of speaking words and never being heard. Oneself and the rest of the world. The choice is clear. The answer is not. You let it pass. You’ve watched them melt into the peripheral. Disappear as loudly as they came. You’ve learned to forget the language you spoke without knowing…replace the taste…embrace instead the feeling more common. The one that gnaws on the inside, the silent record that has always played. But no one stayed to speak in tones only you understood out of fear…out of respect…speculation. You’ll never know. So this time, you’ll give in…lovingly replaying the scene take after take. Surrounded, separate…alone together. Let the moment play. Until once again the definitions must be marked starkly. Watching it fade, as you only just begin to realize where you’ve arrived.

February 22, 2010

I believed it with every ounce of my being
My only hope now is that it no longer exists
for a creature such as myself; unsavory, unwhole
I see it for you, I can see it with my eyes closed
feel it through the numbness
my only comfort, the irony…
if I feel it stir, this disillusion–hope
i will clench my heart against its softness
coax myself toward it only to walk past it
Clever deception
hope itself, I am her fool

Can’t Keep It Straight

Can’t keep it straight
where I’ve been, who i am
could’ve used a warning
used to know it backwards no matter how haunting,
is it the green of the grass or the fear knowing what you can have, but I’ll never know
or chance it
ha, bold coward
I’ll ignore the crevices of your soul
as we talk of lost dreams in sleep we’ve never had
courage?
what am i but one who hides behind words

Eyes

Liquid amber holds my eyes
Uplifting something buried, innately under packages from the past—Express mailed, 5 day ground
Something warm
Something hot
Smoldering shadows to that heart
Ghosts of lifeHaunting your mind, whispering hurt and reminders of what you really are—
Dirt, dust, and something else, something brown.
Eyes that hold pleasure and painBut these panes are frosted over
Weathered by betrayals, ego, life
Skin to skin
Soft rustle
Hot
Limbs entangled
Even in a daze
Minds exposed
“I’ll give you anything”
(everything)
Lying together miles away not even an inch apart
Silent fury sinks in as they hold
Desperately to any part
Bury further
Hurry
Faster away from the tricked up silver dollar—morning strife.
Or maybe it’s what you wished it
The way you wished
Fools again. Fooled again.