SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 2010

i have no idea anymore

i don't know things

who do i think i am

making all these plans

so now what.

surrender.

because i have no armor

because i have lost my way

and my warm coat along with it.

because sometimes exhaustion

beats you in the race

because some things are stronger than us.

because we don't know that when we take them on

and vow to fight.

but the fight is gone.

you are a beautiful weightin my chest. in my broken open beat skipping heart.you are the heavy questionthat i can't answerthe burning building that i refuse to abandonthe sailing shipthat i have anchored myself to.because i believe in things i can't seebecause i believe in the space between the words.because i dreamed this in a dream.  because there was a moment when i knewthat although every detail was wrong, the silence between us spoke of another truth.   

two virgins 

two bluebirds 

three broken angels

i tried to lose you in him.

you went nowhere.

it went nowhere.  

(but then)

we went nowhere.

go to sleep with make-up on

with my lovers hand a cold draft.

with the television my only one 

the one and only.

voices 

neighbors drunk footsteps. baileys. 

tripping the cat. up and down for a party.

still smell a boy on this pillow. 

too young for me.  too clean for me.

who turns down my advances.  my only one.

my one and only.

if you were here i would 

beg for your kiss. you have the one and only

the only kiss i would beg for. 

my only one.

What If?

in the spring of 2007 i was asked to participate in an event called 20x2.  it consisted of 20 artists who have two minutes to answer a given question in any form of art they choose.  it could be dance, sculpture, song, squirrel races etc etc...  you get it!  we could answer the question in any way we saw fit. or unfit. my life at that time had fallen apart and the question we were asked, "what if?" was the same question i had been asking myself for years.  the room was packed and quiet.  this was my two minute piece. 

i don't have any props or slides or even a guitar with me. tonight i bring you a report from the last month that i've spent examining the deceptively light and foolish question, "what if?"

I began my quest for answers with a personal study of sorts, asking myself all of my possible "what ifs," like...

what if i hadn't had a childhood cancer?

what if i'd gotten that pony?

what if i'd stayed in rehab all 28 prescribed days?

then i got a little carried away and lost the "what if" all together. 

why am i so fucking miserable? 

why can't i just admit that i'm unhappy? 

who am i faking for?

why am i pretending to be the girl with the perfect marriage, the girl who loves her indie music status, the girl who's always laughing? 

i'm living a lie.

i'm scared to be alone.

i'm scared that i'll never be able to take care of myself.

i'm scared that i'll get sick again and everyone will leave me.

and my final "what if"

what if i'm capable of living this lie for the rest of my life? and i know i am because i've done it successfully for years.  until now! i can't bear to do it anymore.  every day i feel less and less like the person i'm meant to be.

so here's the truth; i left my husband, i'm broke, i'm disfigured from cancer, i have a little tourettes and all of last year i was high on painkillers.  

and i'm not fine.  i'm fucked... so "what if" i am?

march 2007

inside out

sometimes i write a thing and i hate it.  it can be too true and i hate that anyone would read my ugly truth.  that you would see me inside out.  all my seams showing..  my tags in view.  my dirty underbelly. it gives me a twist.  in the gut you can so clearly see. i'm squirming in my obvious skin.  

today.  everything was everywhere and nowhere.  backwards and on its head.  i said i was sorry when i wasn't and i said i wasn't sorry when i was.  a suffering began.  i have put it off for too long because of hope.  hope kept my fists clenched to the edge. i hoped i wouldn't fall.  i hoped i could hang on.. a little longer. 

now.  i'm a beggar in the quiet of my prayers.  whispered plea's that i can have it back...  my fruitless tree.  god is petting my shoulders like a loving parent.  tears are crisscrossing down my folded hands, wetting my wrists, slipping to the crook of my elbow..  sweet pool, i think.  these tears.. the after thought of my pain.  because i lost you.