bits and pieces to soak in.

mine

when i feel close to you
i am happiest
an intimacy
that passes over miles
embraces me
when i feel most tired

i think of you
and the love fills my mind
where you reside
most of the time 

flood my veins with blood

is it true you can only
be whole with another?
i thrive on independence
and yet, like a ceramic,
i crack when you leave
float like a leaf
in the autumn eve
left to right
down to the ground
and writhe. crisp and unalive.

incapable of articulation these days, and that is the truth.

i will paint my frustrations
with overused words and rhymes
of my incapability at success.
another drone of consumption and greed
born at your pleasure
to continue a sick cycle into our demise.
i am not worthy of a second look,
clearly, and i grew up with the intention
of bringing myself up the ladder we’re all supposed
to fit on, somehow. i was physically raised,
but my intellect was neglected to an extent.
class and race, even gender (as a female), never crossed the mind.
pathetic and disgusting to avoid these issues.
after a while, i thought i should raise myself.
it is silly and absurd to believe one can lift
themselves with no aid. it’s a white way of
thinking i want to avoid.

we all need help in different ways, and i feel
as though i’ve been catapulted into an abyss
of unknowing and evergrowing fear.
for how are any of us supposed to simply know
what to do and how to live? and shame on you
for believing that anyone is supposed to magically
survive when they are raised with a specific ignorance.
so here i lay, with the thoughts that i am better than i actually
am, buried under media consumption of other.
the only desire i was born with was the desire for diamonds
and a closet full of anything i wanted. i grew up in the TV world
where all i saw was madonna, glamour, fame.
i drowned in it, and i awake in my cave where the water
rushes by. even now i cannot explain the fear, the dread, the ignorance right.

you were there when i never needed you. life was simple.
you only want simple, i can tell. and now… i need you most.
you are nowhere to be found. and i am in a place where i cannot
place myself. i cannot see outside of myself. trapped in unworldly, mucked
conscious. clouded with unknowing, and crying as a result.
but crying is self-pity. weakness. crying is not the release i once thought it was.
i am woman. i don’t allow myself to cry. no more.
i try to be strong. i work to be strong. all i ever feel is the frail
filling up my bones, replacing my marrow. it may as well be stripped from me completely.
my feeble humanity eats at my flesh and i sit in fits, as usual.
even this declaration is a victimization of my existence.
and so you see, the vicious circle of privilege rears it’s ugly head
for the unprepared who think they have it all, when….

i am torn and i am hideous. 

float in dreams of them
a pool of juice from the candle
boiling like their tea
flame flickers
stays lit
you come apart
bit by bit 
put up a struggle
feelings knit
and a vision is produced
out of it 

i wish i could write better
speak better
think better

be accepted by you and you
and not be brash in my opinions
and the things i’ll say.

but i’ll never be the classy
movie stars
like marilyn and greta

i will always be frustrated and confused,
at least it seems

and am i wrong to blame media and pop culture?
for feeding me the wrong ideals
attempting to dumb me down and behave
in a brazen way like the people on tv,
hunch over and paint my face like the people in magazines.

i’m a result of constant brainwashed garbage that recycles
through the new generations,
and i intend to break free.

it is a thin, aggravating line
i intend to find the answer to.

and until then,
i will stew in my room
of girlhood and womanhood blended
at a standstill,
trying to teach myself what’s right and wrong
how i should behave and dress
how to articulate my life accurately
according to the american standards of brain pollution.

i will be your jesus to victimize
and slaughter to please your disgusting agendas. 

fire work

at times, love
my heart feels so full of
euphoria for you
hope for us
that it feels as though
it might burst and overflow
break through my chest, and
like lava, flow to you in the best
eager fashion. sentiments burst
and i lose the words 
to accurately paint how i feel.
a mélange of love, fear, excitement. i slow, not to
get stuck at fear, for that is only a red light.
the only red i desire to know
is the passion igniting between our souls. 

there are times
i feel so worthless
i lie here, dwell
on the fact of lethargy,
lack of drive and motivation,
it is all hopeless anyway. 

an apology. a cry.

today i behaved as an insolent child. i apologize. and my love, you should know i miss you terribly when you leave. it is notions like these
that i wish could satisfy my fear and my hunger. i should take comfort in our lazy days. i should be calmed at the thoughts of our love, for it’s waves extend across continents and seas.
my insomnia tears my heart because one image of you should relieve
me of all fears and pain, and yet i sit and dwell paranoid and in vain
as a bird about the impossible questions to answer. i stew in the unhealthiest and unholiest of ways.
there are many reasons i adore you, but this reason i need you. to press me. grounded. i want all truths and i fear all unknown and it rips me apart like nobody knows.

it feels good to hold this smoke in my lungs
because nothing else feels good anymore
(except when i’m with you, but that’s another story)
a sickening sign of a deepening depression
that will increase with the further recession

how long have i felt so stuck
i’ve lost track of all time
(except that i attempt to cling to it, indefinitely)
since this aching has gone 
longer than i anticipated on

bones buried in mud
heart beats with a haunting thud
mine, i see, future home
the earth with the rest
complacency purged
and clarity ingested,
hopefully. 

you are better