i always swan dive.
arms out, head back. breathe.
so theres light now? hm. i guess i still dont have it figured out. but i do know that something has shifted.
wow i feel good.
ive been getting up, getting out, smiling. flying. i swear i havent touched the ground lately. maybe it has to do with my place, the space ive created and cared for thats just mine. maybe its physical. maybe its just in my head. i think ive cleaned my attic. a little. freeing up some space for new shiny things and blowing dust off rusty forgotten ones. cleaning. digging. finding things out about this once scared terrible girl. i used to be so terrible. raging. fighting. wicked banter and me left with the prize that doesnt taste all the way right. but now. im here.walking and looking you in the eyes. even though you hardly look back at me.
[brave]
theres little doubt.
all the things that have made me. all the shit ive been through and touched and said. im the product of a whirlwind, mixed emotions, and plenty or sharp metal. yet im brilliant against the background, emerging with fists tight and guns abandoned. ready.
but you cant shake people and make them see. its hardly that easy and you only end up damaging them.
[i once thought]
it would be fitting. that i would come out of this cloud and find the others have left. but what a happy surprise, to find them waiting.
[and im smiling down only to myself]
kind of happy, i float on. a change so strange i didnt even notice, just ate it and ran with it. just enjoyed it and thought that i had finally found the spot i was supposed to stop and take as my own.
hm.
and yes there are dark spots. well. maybe not dark, but grey. its hard to find out that youve invested poorly. again. your trying to be reasonable and take a stand but you keep tripping and falling. thats the feeling. as i said earlier. falling.
[there are moments i dont know what to do with myself]
i sit at home and twitch. i get nervous alot. my masochism whines, i havent paid as much attention to it as before. it senses a rift and cries out. but now its easier to ignore. i cant afford new scars, dont need the blood. cant spare anymore t shirts and towels. and while i pace i sing instead of trace the bright marks. neat.
i sit across from someone and im reaching reaching reaching. and i know, i know, i play the words in my head. i dont forget that kind of twinge easily.
dont get attached lady.
[sadly, ive grown familiar]
yet even with that the incredibly new optimist in me smiles at you. she stares and asks questions. she listens and laughs. she touches and dances away and back again. shes silly and taken and wants you to wake up. she tries. shes trying.
maybe one day shell get the real prize. maybe all this really is worth it.
that flutter has to be worth it.
[moving on]
up.
i think im writing a book. yes. i am. with the philippines, california, downtown san antonio and blades. it might just be for me.
come on borders. give a little back.
fuck. im wired. on something sparkly and refreshing.
i cant stop moving.
and i cant wait for tomorrow night. people, a stage, cheap beer, and smoke.
bring it. monday night. give me that pounding sense of yesss.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment