Tuesday, October 27, 2015

October 27, 2015

Like a tidepool. 
Silent and teeming with life.
 Glittering in the coastal sun
Rushing madness when the water rises
Desolation and renewal when it retreats 
Bound by the pull of the sun and moon
Until one day after a thousand years, rocks and sand and sticks of us
Dam the gates
And the water seeps in and out 
more slowly
Still glittering in the sun 
Still teeming with life 
Still bound by the pull of the sun and the moon
Steady ebb and flow 
No destruction
No devastation
Just life. Thriving unquestioningly
Just be. 

Sunday, October 25, 2015

October 25, 2015

It's time again to do the thing I'm most afraid of.  It's time to let you go out into the wild black stars and watch you fade from me. It's time to remember myself and look fear, and loss, and pain in the eye and make them my friends. It's time to embrace the things I try to run from.  I've gone back somehow to believing that if I suffer enough I will be worthy of the love I have. And that's not true.  Sharing your pain, immersing myself in it, bathing in it, only feeds the suffering.  It's time to open myself up to the impermanence and let it be part of my story. 
This is something I can do. I can breathe. I can paint.  I can write. I can revisit pieces of us when I see you in my everyday life. In your absence I will still love you. I will still feel wrenching love and compassion. I will still sleep in your t shirt. I will think of you when I put on the coat I bought to wear over the dress I picked you up in at the airport last winter. I will still hear you in the songs we played. I can have those things. And I can have forever the empty hole that losing you leaves.  That belongs to me.  
But what I cannot have is the bandaid of your presence when it isn't right. When you're not ready. When you're not fully immersed in love and in life and truly attuned to the dance our souls can do. I have to let you go find that in whatever way you must. I have to have the courage to let my heart break so that it doesn't keep you captive.  
I have to be brave enough to face it. It's the best thing I can do for you, and for me. I'd love to pack a bag for you to take along.  Filled with snacks and love and notes that say 'remember to love yourself as much as I love you'. But you have to go it alone, and so do I. Maybe one day we'll make it back to each other. 

As for my long journey, it's about to happen.  I am about to unleash myself on the world in some new way and dig down to the bottom of despair until I've broken to the other side of it. I'm going looking for me and all my bravery and all the things I can do alone.  I will find them. And I will never settle for a love that doesn't explode. I will never settle for company when I'm looking for the fusion of my soul to another.  And that may mean being alone. 

The threads that tied my heart to your sill never weather. They'll never break. But they have to be long enough now to venture out alone and find out all the things we tried to tell each other for ourselves.  I hope I never let go of the desire to see you again.  But now, I let go of you.  

Sunday, October 11, 2015

October 11, 2015

It's never been about who is right and who is wrong. Who is good enough, who needs more work, who is better or worse.  We are every one of us blinding disasters, trying to put one foot and one word in front of the other and sidestep the land mines in our psyches. 

What it's about is an active love that doesn't give up. A love that doesn't give up when the shine is off the penny.   And I'll find that.  Because I believe in it and somewhere there is someone who will see all the beauty in me that you did, and they'll believe the same thing. That stumbles aren't defeat, that disagreements aren't fundamental endings, and that digging down deep and hard to mend the roots is what makes the flowers bloom. 

You are worth that kind of fight. I hope you fight that hard for yourself.  
I am worth it, too. And I thank you for not allowing me to accept any less. 

Saturday, October 10, 2015

October 9, 3am

Tonight I made a White Russian with Samoa cookie creamer.  And I couldn't drink it. I couldn't even get it to my lips, and I cried. I cried for you and for my child and for everything that happens in a lifetime that leaves us unable to do the right thing at the right time. I cried so goddamn hard I couldn't drive my car and I felt everything. Everything for me and for you and all the hurts and near misses and almost but not quites. For all the days I can't get out of bed and all the days I can't stay in bed and all the days of running down to the water on the beach we will miss. And it felt like hell coming out of my eyes, burning and aching and losing. I can't explain what it felt like to feel all of that pain and stop storing it in my heart and my body. But as it came out I thanked you. I thanked you for ending something I never could. I would have stayed forever, trying to make a world where your words would never snap. Trying to fit into the holes in you. 

For tonight, I'll take the good things with me. And open my hands to the universe and stop holding on to the rest. Some nights I'll burn out in tears. And others I'll just let it go in a puff of smoke. 

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

October 7, 2015

I wanted to love you perfectly, exactly as you were. Your darkness, your fatigued spirit, your failures and the dimness of your spark that would fly into flagrant, bursting light when ideas spilled out of your churning mind.  I wanted to sit still in the midst of your storm. I wanted to show you how I could. I fell  in the end. Wanting instead to show you how perfect I could be, how I might save you, stumbling  on my ego, I failed and failed again. Instead of loving you in the moment you exist in, I tried to be right.  I tried to light the spark, to show you my way, to possess you rather than to stand fast amidst your suffering.  I tried to save you. I tried to hand you power you already possess. I tried to set fire to something not ready to burn.  The only way left to love you is to let go. Of my pride. Of my fears of losing all you were to me. Of the desperate hope that somehow I could be enough.  Let you burn on your own and tend my own fire. I hope tears don't smother my pyre.  And I hope you find, somewhere in the vastness of the pitch black, something worth burning for. 

October 7, 2015

I wanted to love you perfectly, exactly as you were. Your darkness, your fatigued spirit, your failures and the dimness of your spark that would fly into flagrant, bursting light when ideas spilled out of your churning mind.  I wanted to sit still in the midst of your storm. I wanted to show you how I could. I fell  in the end. Wanting instead to show you how perfect I could be, how I might save you, stumbling  on my ego, I failed and failed again. Instead of loving you in the moment you exist in, I tried to be right.  I tried to light the spark, to show you my way, to possess you rather than to stand fast amidst your suffering.  I tried to save you. I tried to hand you power you already possess. I tried to set fire to something not ready to burn.  The only way left to love you is to let go. Of my pride. Of my fears of losing all you were to me. Of the desperate hope that somehow I could be enough.  Let you burn on your own and tend my own fire. I hope tears don't smother my pyre.  And I hope you find, somewhere in the vastness of the pitch black, something worth burning for. 

Monday, March 9, 2015

I miss the way your lips taste of my lips and my lips 
And the way your tongue feels on my teeth and between my lips and between my lips
I miss the way I taste you, purple and unrestrained, between my lips and between my lips
I miss the way I devour you with my lips and teeth and lips
Slick with sweat and eyes locked 
Between my lips and my lips
Beyond all distant stars and burning suns 
In between glittering galaxies 
Back and forth through the rolling barrel waves of time
In impossible spite of the infinite webs of fate 
With my fingers tangled in your hair on the 405
With thousands of miles and all the roads that run between
Without the slightest heed or need of reason
With the ever-present ignition of my very soul that lights under your watch
This is how...
There was no way to be proper or delicate about the way she looked at him. It was hunger, thirst, recognition, wanton desire, camaraderie and incredulity all at once. But the recognition- she couldn't place it. She couldn't stop looking at his face and trying to remember why it already lived inside her memory somehow. Half the time it stole her voice and the other half it just stole her breath. It was without a doubt the most magnetic experience of her life and even through the alcohol she looked at him and asked "what are you doing here?" And responded- "I think you keep asking the wrong question. I keep wondering, 'what can come of this'?"
Saying I miss you isn't quite enough
Saying I miss waking up to the heat of you next to me doesn't quite sum up why I don't want to get in my bed alone
Saying I miss your breath against my neck and your teeth on my skin doesn't quite do justice 
I find myself turning my head to the side and almost moaning just to remember 
How I could barely say your name because I had no breath while my body belonged to yours
How reality is so much faster and clearer and so impossible to escape underneath you
Every little death breathes life into my soul 
and I will beg for you to slay me again. 
Let's go live in a treehouse
With a rope swing over the water
We can howl at the moon with the wolves
And make love in the trees like animals
We can fish for our dinner
And brew our own drinks
And never set foot in civilization again. 
I'll sew you a loincloth 
But rarely let you wear it
And I'll tan my cheeks in the tropical light
Tie me up with vines at night 
And my mouth will wake you when you rise with the sun 
Good morning
Also don't forget that time we fell asleep on the moon and drifted too close to the sun. Don't forget how the soft golden light turned blinding so that you couldn't even see me. How the heat scalded and blistered inside your throat each time you drew breath, so that you couldn't even call out for me. Remember how the warm rays that heat the concrete in the summer turned our skin to black and singed away our hair, and how everything that was magical on the moon was mercilessly annihilated by the sun. How the smell of burning flesh inside our nostrils was our own. When you wake up whole, safe, with all your skin, deliciously alive and unsure of what your day brings, remember that it's because just before the light of the sun extinguished the light in us, I wrote us back home. 
Goodnight Darlin. Remember that time we walked on the moon? Remember how you could see the coast of California as the sun set and told me that for once you weren't jaded by the ocean, that being so far away that you could see the whole thing on the head of a pin made you grateful to know feeling of the sand between your toes. Remember how easy it was to slow dance without the weight of the world holding you down, and how your laughter didn't carry into the atmosphere, but lingered just between your mouth and mine. And how there were no state lines, and distance seemed irrelevant and everyone we loved was there, held at home by gravity as we sifted lunar dust through our fingers, and contemplated things much less significant than the universe. 
At the birth of the universe, the dawn of time- before words existed to name things and souls had yet to evolve into bodies, I knew you. And my soul has wandered around galaxies, in and out of stars, danced across the rings of Saturn, while yours kicked dust on the moon and sprinted around the Milky Way. Evolution pulled us one way, into the physical, toward survival, in caves and underground cities, mud huts, castles, cottages, mortgages and apartment complexes. I knew you when you were the court jester. You knew me when I was burned at the stake. I knew you when they dragged you away for heresy, and you watched the crusade bleed me out for blasphemy. Since the beginning, we have rebelled. We have been the odd man out. Through lifetimes and centuries and revolutions, my soul has held your hand, and yours has watched my back. As we were tortured, as we were rejected, as we were stoned, as we were crushed. And every moment in history made sense when I walked into a bar and saw..."oh, it's you." Yet ever since, I've been trying to decipher, to understand, to make it fit neatly into words I know. It doesn't. I don't understand it on a level I can describe, it simply is. Lovers, friends, mismatched souls torn from the same cosmos cloth- it may take centuries more to comprehend. But it is real, and it is compelling, and consumes sometimes too much of me. My rabid curiosity feels the need to know *What is this, what is this supposed to be, who are you to me??* . But my soul, she is quiet. She's come across you at last, and simply lights up in recognition, slips the unraveling strings of her fingers into the holes in the center of your chest and says, 'let's dance as we have always done'. 

Undated

Don't be jaded. Let it happen to you. Let it move you. Let it break you, build you, burn and create you. Let it pull you from the depths only to drown you in the light. Let it manifest you out of nothing. Let it show you to me. Your darkest. Your most useless. Your weakest and most depraved. Let it illuminate your sickness. Let it make me invincible to your heart's disease. Let it consume us both, flames licking at our heels, our skin seared black inside the fire, but the light in our eyes reflected only of one another. Hearts built entirely of scars, it burns to stretch old wounds. 

March 6, 2015

Shhhhhhh, come under here with me. Don't say a word. If we're completely silent, and you hold on to me real tight, maybe we can hide from them. They won't see us, won't hear our pounding hearts and shaking hands. Keep holding on. Stay still. I'm not sure why the fates are so angry at us right now, but I've had enough of their hurling stones at our faces and laughing when they crack our skulls. Hide with me! I'll kiss you under the covers and when we're ready, we can bolt out past them, running and laughing and shouting, middle fingers up, defying all their traps and snarls. And when we finally get away, in some dark cavern or abandoned shack, I'll lick your wounds until they're clean, you'll gently wipe the blood off of my back. We'll heal up together, hidden away, until our scars have made us beautiful and we walk amongst everyone else again. They'll watch as we go by with our heads held up. They'll whisper that we're the ones you've heard about. The lovers. The fighters. The survivors. The ones who tempted fate to crush is, and lived to tell. 

Insomnia vol, 8,793

The quiet and the dark cast a heavy net over my body again. I can't sleep beneath this weight. The vicious mouth of the black dog called anxiety spits it's hot and hungry breath upon my back. I can feel it's teeth grazing me as it snaps, the foaming, snarling, curled back lips as it gnashes and pulls against its chains. It's fed by uncertainty. It thrives on this fear of the unknown. It flashes yesterdays to paralyze and sedate me, it denies the possibility of tomorrow. It shows me everything I haven't done with a dark promise that I can't, and never will. It delights in all my failures, my shortcomings, it grows stronger when it feeds on guilt. 

March 9, 2015

All I have this morning is a restless desire for you in this bed beside me. To wake up once with your fingers stroking my skin and your breath on the back of my neck. Whatever vengeful little demon of fate decided to make that so difficult will die a horrendous bloody death the next time you're within the reach of my lips. He'll disintegrate in the wake of all consuming passion, laughter, adventures, sex, adventurous sex, and bullheaded optimism. Every time you touch me, the little bastard bleeds. Let's kill him together. 

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

January 21, 2015

I woke up early this morning and brushed my teeth
there was blood on my toothbrush and pumping through my heart
I slept on my couch for four months last year
and then I went into my room and harvested all the traces of my old life

I bagged up all the empty beers I never drank
and all the clothes that weren't mine
I got a bed, and I slept in it
and I brought you into it
through sheer force of will I created the space you fit into

I'm not afraid of change
it just scares the hell out of me

I dropped a bag of licorice tea into a travel mug
I dressed in black
I painted my face and noticed the upturned corners of my mouth
and I walk out into a day that looks like any other
mundane and absolutely unknown

Saturday, January 17, 2015

January 17, 2015

Solitude caroms through the cavernous spaces 
Even in the presence of those I made
I'm not different than you
Seeking shelter 
Missing a home that disintegrated in my hands
My heart, my feelings, my
Skin, my bones break just like
 Yours

Thursday, January 15, 2015

January 15, 2015

Not for the faint of heart,
I will confront everything 
Myself, my flaws, your tactics 
The injustice in the world, 
And fear, fear, fear. 
I will analyze and I will try and I will make
Mistakes every step of the way
I will love you relentlessly 
I will cry for every single soul lost 
It will hurt to be with me
If I'm lucky, it will hurt more to be without me. 
But I cannot stop
Cannot be anyone else
This simple singular life
This flash
This blink of distilled souls
It belongs to those who share it
And not because I am great,
But because this life is greater than the lot of us
You will have to be exceptional to bare it with me. 
You will have to confront everything 
Yourself, your flaws, my tactics
And fear, fear, fear. 
Death is mercilessly at the doorstep, always
There is never, ever, a moment to lose
We must get on with fire and passion and never wallow in the inevitability of loss. 
And so likely I cannot keep
 that which I so desire. 
But we must get on with fire and passion
And you're invited for the burn. 

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

January, 14, 2015

My words aren't cooperating. 
But I can remember the planes of your face
 and the way you shifted in the fuzzy warmth
and I could see the wolf in you
sharp, detached, and hunting for something
And I am always afraid and not afraid with you,
 walking into fear with wide eyes
 I wonder if I've been wrong all along
If motivation can be external
because of the way you move a brush
and tell a story
and I can feel the disappointment in your years
and I hope somewhere inside me is something 
that doesn't disappoint, and that one of us will see it

Thursday, January 1, 2015

January 1, 2015

Sitting in my bedroom right now, 
so my daughter won't ask why I'm crying 
So I won't have to tell her that 
another beloved friend has died 
of the same thing her little brother has
One fucked up little mutation that steals love left and right 
And it happens all the time

And every single time 
it reminds me, desperately
Don't waste one second. 
Don't let yourself be crushed by the mundane 
tragedies of the every day 
Give yourself to bigger things 
Allow yourself to fly and to be broken, 
Take some crash landings 
Don't be afraid to try again 
Don't be afraid to cry and to take on great adventures 
Make sure you love as much as you can
Don't be afraid to do things because someone else can't 
do them so those who can't still know they're possible. 

The weight of these tears is immense. 
Two little boys left with no mother, 
and I spent my morning stressed about....moths.