Tuesday, November 11, 2008

I'm whining...again

I feel myself falling apart, leaving a huge disconnect between my brain and my body. I notice this when I answer the phone, knowing it's you on the other end.

No, you did not love me.
No, I wasn't happy.
Now? I'm tired.

Tell me to think of you and I'll remember how you left me. How she had shorter skirts and lighter hair. A smaller waist and smaller words.

No, I won't take you back.
No, I don't want to talk.
I don't know why I answered.

Remind me of the Sundays we spent together. In bed with my hair spiraled around your fingers. My cold feet pressed against your legs. The stubble on your chin scratching my shoulder. I'll tell you I missed you most on Mondays. I'm weakest on Wednesdays.

I know today is Wednesday.
No, there isn't somebody else.
I'm not looking.

Ask me why I'm content to be alone. I'll tell you about the burnt orange leaves crackling beneath me feet. How the cold air sounds different than summer's coos. Why I think silence in autumn is so sad. How I won't settle for someone who doesn't understand this.

No, you don't understand.
I know Autumn is an abstraction.
I already told you, there isn't somebody else.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Things I LOVE

I love...
that Barack Obama is our new president.
How an election can give me hope and something to believe in
How Sarah Palin will no longer be hailed as a beacon to represent women, giving all of womanhood a bad name.

How Ruth sings "Because" by the Beatles every time she takes a shower and I can hear her while doing homework in my room.
How Ruth is my best friend and sister who supports me when I say I want to be everything I'm incapable of being.
How Ruth compulsively buys jewelry and googles fabrigee eggs.

How Jon continues to find new ways to call me a lesbian whore.

How Esme smells.
How Esme will move to snuggle closer when I turn in my sleep.
How Esme leaves fur all over my bed.
How Esme will wiggle her way between me and whoever else sleeps next to me.

How it smells outside in the fall. Crisp is the only word I can think of to describe it.
Sitting on my roof with someone who promises to call in the morning, whether he does or not.

Feeling loved.
Being in love.
Not being lonely.

Dancing in the kitchen.
Making vegan pancakes on Sunday mornings.

Listening to an ex boyfriend beg for me back after I've finally moved on, so I can say "No." over and over.

Drinking whiskey.
Reading good writing.
Reading "Love Poem" by Paul Guest.

Fantasizing about being beautiful.

When I have realistic dreams.
When I remember my dreams.

Learning, believe it or not.

Northstar veggie burgers.

Billboards that say "BUSY!?!?!"

Drinking a glass of merlot while smoking a cigarette.

Mostly I love love.

This is just a list of things to sew me back together...sometimes I need to remind myself.

Sunday, October 19, 2008


I'm done with you long days and short nights. Your hot hot weather. I'm finished with the trails of sweat dripping between my shoulder blades and collecting on my jeans.

Fuck you summer and your no summer romance. I'm done with your mosquitoes and bumble bees. I still hate you for frying my sunflowers.

I'm leaving you for the crisp autumn leaves. The only promise they make is not to promise anything.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Something I'm not used to writing. Bear with me while I attempt to evolve.

I thought I knew what love was and I wanted
to scatter it in pieces at my feet.
To pluck it from its grounding like a
porcelain vase cocooning flowers in its womb
and smack it on the floor.

The lavender and white orchids land quietly
while the rest cracks solid against cool kitchen tile.
I wanted to squeeze the shards in my hands,
watch the blood slide from my palms and
pray this would scar.

I wanted to pull my dress at every seem
til it tore from my body.
For the shrapnel to run my tights and
dig into my knees while I crawl across the floor.
I wanted to collapse on the sharp edges and
wait for you to find me here
in a stupor of laughter.

Mostly, I wanted you.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Unrelated Haikus

I devoted the
day to remember your laugh.
I just cried instead.

Mom taught us how to
hold our booze and forget how
to feel the longing.

Maybe I should get
some medication to help
me fight the fake wasps.

You said I was too
cold towards you. But I'm just weak
on your perfect hands.

I thought about your lips
and wanted to steal a kiss
but feared your response.

Sitting on my roof
chain smoking my cigarettes
wishing you were here.

First time I missed you
I was eight hours away
pulling on Ruth's arm.

I haven't dealt with
much since I turned four. I'm an
apathetic well.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Because I am known as "Squid"


Sunday, September 28, 2008

I can't help myself.

I really felt the need to post a picture of my new tattoo. It is on the left side of my lower back, going along my hip. It's my new favorite tattoo, courtesy of Ruth. She does beautiful work, and I am proud to have it.