cynicism choking me

I don't have anything to say. because I'm muted and fluctuating and broken.

I DONT WANT TO DO YOUR SLEEPWALK DANCE ANYMORE

Core
with a truffle skirt
and an affliction
ties to you

She is dancing around the room, and I
am dancing around the room.


Tonight it is the coldest it has been in a while. Your arms look lonely, & your eyes are screaming for a love you have never experienced. I sit in my chair & stare at you- my hair is a mess, my body is cold as hell, dead flowers withered away still managing to stay in my blonde, long tangled hair. Pearls make love to my soft neck & ruby peach lips partly closed. My skin is powdered white & you are what make my eyes dance.

I can’t see what he once meant to me
Do you think it’s time I put it out of my mind
I think it’s time I let my love for him die

I could drink a case of you, darling.

The changing of colors this October is lovely. Reds, golds, yellows, greens are saturating my everyday. It couldn't be more beautiful as the season grows. Coats and wooly jumpers are bundling us up and the sky is overcast grey. This is when I am reminded that I am happy, living, growing, dancing on a journey of possibility. And the most wonderful part of it all, is the simplicity of the seasons intertwined in my hands. Oh! What love has brought me here.

breaking

I'm gathering my things and I am sailing away. I'm breaking off from the mainland with full speed ahead. This is the end of our story, this is the end of all of us.

I am forgetting
what it meant to love you
what it meant to run away
from your wide, eyed smile.
This distance never solved anything,
she only poured us both a cup of tea
to sip on
and so i'd sleep on
this complicated mouth,
swirling synergy down my throat.
I'd hate to say you were never beautiful
but my eyes have grown three times
as large.
and you think of yourself too much
in the way your garden grows.
So fare thee well
love of mine.
Lets make it through this time.

Je seul vis.

I live alone. And it's beautiful.
Because,
when all the world is sauntering by and men have left you standing on the wayside, it is critical to crawl into some of the smallest spaces and just simply breath. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow I am standing confidently in the patterns of my footsteps, I do not need any one human being to hold me up, when I have the strength of my own. Living alone has given me the independence that most of you are not ever capable of possessing in a lifetime, and here it lies right at the tip of my fingertips.
I'm freely dancing in my beauty.

And I am very happy.

I don't want you. I don't want him. Because how naive your spirit is to this young woman, that you have let go. She will not stop at nothing, she will not ever stop at you because this glorious dance is calling her name. If you are willing and capable then pick up your feet, triumph your days, and swiftly come along with me.

Ecclesiastes

In my mind's eye, she would not leave the room to enter the new phase of her life. Thus, like a woman caught in Twilight Zone, she would remain stagnant or lost forever.
This very melancholy stage of our lives is richly embodied within the breathing veins of Ecclesiastes:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose underthe Heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.
A time to get, and a time to lose. . .

"A Woman"

This is written in the Hebrew Talmud, the book where all of the sayings and preaching of Rabbis are conserved over time.

It says:

"Be very careful if you make a woman
cry, because God counts her tears. The woman
came out of a man's rib. Not from his feet to be
walked on. Not from his head to be superior, but
from the side to be equal. Under the arm to be
protected, and next to the heart to be loved."

I WAS vs. Am

I.
I was
blanketing the sound
of repercussion before realizing
I miss that incredible feeling
of waking up next to you,
of falling asleep in your arms,
of smiling because you made me;
it was always effortless,
the intensity your eyes instilled
beneath the surface of my skin,
embedded in my pores,
something soap could never
wash away;
but for some reason,
i scrubbed it dry.
II.
i am
inquisitive of the foundation
for my departure;
does it mirror your own?
an escape,
a release,
a temporary fix that may
be permanent if all the
holes can be stitched in a timely fashion.
III.
i was
never the type
to wear my heart
on my sleeve -
(it is now broken
& bleeding for all
to see)
the sutures are
merely bandaged over
& i keep ripping them out.
IV.
i am
an open wound
(& i still miss that
incredible feeling.)


The air is cold, mid-blue, and a hum descends down the mountains, through the blue-ridge valley. I put on a wooly jumper & rub my hands together, but the air is dry & they begin to chap. I pull a seashell out of my chest of drawers and pull it to my ear; I heard once that the sea takes for itself whatever it wishes, to escape from its lurches is more a curse than a blessing. I think about stringing shells across the Atlantic Ocean, like tin can telephones, with brown parcel string where the gulls can sit. I'll send you an Atlantic seashell,
so you can hear the waves.

swinging from the vines, lined up in the sunshine

Sinking ships, breaking bones

Static.

Somewhere along the way I lost it. I feel like I am no more. But just a sinking ship whose bones are breaking. I remain on the surface of the seas and the rain, a wet and cold feeling of hollow behavior.
I am wanted in these places. But not in the one I truly would like to encompass. So here, I remain static. Between these decisions of heartbreak and life at its ultimate direction.


Give me an ultimatum. Give me somewhere. Give me something.

inside this little heart of mine

does anyone in this world truly understand her? The dreams, passions, and her capability to love?

Many do not even think as she thinks, believe as she so passionately believes, or create as her heart lets her. it is a world so uniquely shaped and distant from your reality.

in the bath tub, drinking a tall glass of red wine and thinking to myself...

don't, don't, DO NOT ever let a man come between you and your dreams.

you see her and think oh how well put together she is. so strong, independent, steadfast. but as soon as those doors close it is almost as if the world is shattered and the razors edge looks so much better than a life on its bitter brink of insanity and tears. her legs are long, her hair is braided, and the whole world widens its mouth to welcome her in. but how cruel it can be. even her father does not know her secrets and talents. he will tear her down and widen her soul until it is swallowed by sadness. he does not know her. not one bit. he has never read her words or sewn her thoughts together. he has never once pondered on her beauty or gathered it together for safekeeping.

"Wait, they don't love you like I love you."

Really, most importantly, I am beginning to realize I am thankful for you in my life. Mostly, because you showed me a world of amazing music I never would have known existed.

when are you going to realize it's just that the time was wrong

You should have seen me last night. I swirled myself around this town. And every man begged for me. Oh, do you feel any regret yet? You have lost her. Exploding in hearts.

oh, mystery man.

Where is he? Where is the man that will sweep me off my feet and look adoringly into my eyes. Where is this magic man? It is about time he shows up on my doorstep.

Oh, mystery man. Come here. Come here.

This young woman is tired of crying out her eyes over a man who broke her in two. I want you to be my prince and heal my wounds. Tell me you love me. Adore my sides.

I am pretty sure you are not coming back. And even more sure you are out of my life forever.

With my fingers crossed, I hope I never see you again.

choking on this perception of pain. it seems to be one of those early mornings where the rain comes straight from my eyes. droplets slipping down the sides of my face. furious at the longevity of your sides against my sides. why let the momentum drag on?
i hate the thought. i refuse to remind myself of any nights with you. i hate the thought of you. i hate the selfish evenings.
all of your selfishness so repulsive to the earth. would leave any woman shaking herself up inside.

a man no longer welcome here.

how you left her alone

These days have just been such a ridiculous phase of my life. I have lost all those men, and thankfully, I have lost them. My life was never the best with them, they ate me alive. My spirit ran dry, I lost my sense of direction, lost the creativity and the passion my love always had. Now I must regain it all back.
Even though I feel as if the last three years were entirely lost, they certainly were not wasted. This heart of mine has learned an abundance of life, and has gained intelligence. It has also taught me exactly what I am seeking for in a life long partner. I have my sights set on the bigger and the better things.
My sights set on the future. Thankfully, deep inside, I know I am going to be perfectly fine. But as the moment resides, I cannot help but have quite a bit of pain. I could care less about what you think, truly. I am better off without most of you.
All I want is to fulfill my life until the top is blown off and the skies are painted with my passion, my love, and there are those in the world who sincerely appreciate my beauty. Because, oh my, there is so much beauty inside this young woman. All she is in need of is to suck this earth dry of its soil, getting her hands dirty, muddy, and becoming life changing.
When watching the stars fade, her eyes become fastened on such a beautiful direction in life, so enthralled with hope.
So sorry about it all, but thank you for teaching me how I truly want my life to be lived and how I am no longer taking any chances to lose it ever again.
So many of these men, taking so very much from me, oh, oh oh oh it's all wrong.

Now that it is all over, I thank you.

You will never meet another one like myself.


How you left her alone.

if i were a stranger to you again, would you dance with me tonight?

leaving is not enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog. change the locks
even on the house he’s never
visited. you lucky, lucky girl.
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. a heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don’t wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses,
you make him call before
he visits, you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever altar you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don’t lose too much weight.
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.