Monday, March 9, 2009

a memoir of sorts (revision 2)


My strength has limits. I'm not always this bold.

I went to bed earlier, but awoke afraid.

This fear should dissipate, or so I am told.


My face was hot with sweat, but the air outside was cold.

I decided to delete your number today.

My strength has limits. I'm not always this bold.


I stayed at home, hoping to release this ache of old

while my family went to church to pray.

This fear should dissipate, or so I am told.


I took you to an event once. (It was cold.)

I laughed, trying to cover the mistakes I had made.

My violet dress was satin, different from my usual mold.

My strength has limits.  I'm not always this bold.


I cried over you, not realizing it was my dignity that had been sold.

I received your letter at work, in the midst of my day.

I took a pill or several, and then in my bed I laid.

This fear should dissipate, or so I am told.


I think I've given up. Take my cards. I finally fold.

My phone is empty now, why did i keep those numbers anyway?

Maybe if I find someone new these wounds will fade.

My strength has limits. I'm not always this bold.

This fear should dissipate, or so I am told.

Messy reunions

I recall a reunion of sorts.


faces from old, smiling.

hugs and high fives, arms stretching.


shot up.

liquid 

down.

more hugs, bodies compiling. 

cards shuffle, music blares.


I can't move with all this sound.

"Make it stop," I think, but mean to say. 

The rush continues in my direction.


I watch my body from above as it lays on the ground,

music screaming eminently in my ears.


Make it stop I continue to think,

but I am no longer able to speak.

Get away from me, get away.

Turn this noise off.  But the notes keep weaseling their way into my ears.

 

"Make it stop," I finally mutter, but want to scream.

I still watch my body from above, hoping it was all a dream.


Saturday, March 7, 2009

a memoir of sorts (revised)..feedback


This fear should dissipate, or so i am told.

I went to bed earlier, but awoke afraid.

My strength has limits. I'm not always this bold.


My face was hot with sweat, but the air outside was cold.

I decided to delete your number today.

This fear should dissipate, or so I am told.


I stayed at home, hoping to release this ache of old

while my family went to church to pray.

My strength has limits.  I'm not always this bold.


I took you to an event once. (It was cold.)

I laughed, trying to cover the mistakes I had made.

My violet dress was satin, different from my usual mold.

This fear should dissipate, or so I am told.


I cried over you, not realizing it was my dignity that had been sold.

I received your letter at work, in the midst of my day.

I took a pill or several, and then in my bed I laid.

My strength has limits.  I'm not always this bold.


I think I've given up. Take my cards. I finally fold.

My phone is empty now, why did i keep those numbers anyway?

Maybe if I find someone new these wounds will fade.

This fear should dissipate, or so I am told.

My strength has limits. I'm not always this bold.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

a memoir of sorts.

I deleted your number today.

My face was hot with sweat, but the air outside was cold.

Earlier my family went to church to pray.

I stayed home, hoping to release this ache of old.


Your number is gone, but the scars you left will stay.

This fear should dissipate, or so i am told.

I went to bed earlier, but awoke afraid.

My strength has limits, i'm not always this bold.


I took you to an event once, i eagerly paid.  

Escaping early, we went outside (even though it was cold).

I laughed, hoping to cover the mistakes I had made.

My violet dress was satin, different from my usual mold.


I received your letter while at work, in the midst of my day.

I cried over you, not realizing it was my dignity that had been sold.

I took a pill, or several, and then in my bed I laid. 

I called you, hung up confused. Your heart was cold.


My phone is empty now, why did i keep those numbers anyway?

i think i've given up.  take my cards.   i finally fold.

maybe if i find someone new, the wounds will fade.

a smoke outside might aid, but it is too cold. 


 

Monday, March 2, 2009

blah

"I can't seem to find a forward path, because I keep living in my past."

-Charles Denison

Sunday, March 1, 2009

why is it i all of a sudden have add?

Lately I can't concentrate. I've tried to do my stats and study for that midterm exam. I have to write a paper. I should really write that paper.
But all i can think about is my consuming unhappiness. My thoughts race back and forth in time.
Uneasy thoughts that lead to uneasy feelings. Uneasy memories and moments. I often feel haunted. It's like I'm haunted by these moments in time that should really have no effect on me anymore. Sometimes I wish memory erasing (like they do in Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind), was possible and prevalent today. A spotless mind would be nice to have. But, if i did that, i wouldn't know what i know now. so, maybe i should be grateful?

O'Hare Unease

We met at the airport oasis once.
It was by chance, even though we planned ahead.
Looking each other in the eyes,
we carried on like it was fine (like we were fine).

Smiling and laughing because it seemed like the right thing to do.

But we both knew.

We both knew.

Knew that like the plane she would leave on,
A part of us, each of us, is gone (taken away) by a force greater than our own.


We carried on the conversation just as we carry on our lives.


But we both know (it's always in the back of our minds and sometimes even the fronts).
A part of us is missing, a part of us is gone.