What have I been up to lately?
How to explain the curiously busy task
Of self reflection, regulation, maintenance
The privilege of a daydream?
Or the purely masterbatory amount of time
Spent in contemplation?
How to justify that arguing with oneself
Could be a hobby, anxiety a sport?
How to convey the exhaustion
of such an incorporeal productivity?
It all sounds so vague and conceited.
Is it philosophy or self flagellation?
"Not much, and you?"
She was fearless
And she was brave.
She fought battles
She was too young to fight.
All her damage
Made her strong in the end.
And I love her now,
Even though I didn't love her then.
It's a little bit La Femme Nikita
A little bit lesbian
And a little bit heartbreaking in the end.
I wanted my villain to win
I wanted the girl to get the girl
To live chaotically ever after
The End.
Clove cigarettes in the summer heat
The coffee bitter, the orange juice sweet
Our emotions overripe, falling from the trees
Mourning a life so stunning
And incomplete.
Uncomfortable in this skin
Uncomfortable in this body
Uncomfortable with this spine
Don't tell me to be comfortable
Just because it's mine.
Too small too tight too
Painful
Too itchy too soft too
Hateful
Don't tell me to be
Grateful.
Time passes softly without you
And I don't know who I am
Or how I got here
Or why I alone am so easy to lose.
I have found myself changed
Born again in your love
And now without you I wonder
Who the fuck have I become?
If my heart were ready to find
Maybe you would have heard it
Beating for you
You would have felt it skip
When you walked in the room.
There are times my body yearns
To be used like a knife
Cutting through the world
Sharp, unstoppable, feared.
Instead it lies on the sink edge
Balanced on possibility.
But what is left to say?
After I decide I'm done
Being treated this way
What is left to say?
After I decide I'm done
Going on this way
What is left to say?
All this time I went with the flow
All this time I'd just go where you go
And I'd just do what you want to do
Because at least I was with you
But now I'm done, done, done
And what is left to say?
And so my decade of decadence
Has come to a close
And nothing I have left
Is worth keeping
Not memories
Or friends
Or worn old party clothes.
When happiness seems too hard,
I choose to experience everything else;
All the small cruelties of life,
All the bizarre and broken people.
I swim comfortably through the bilge,
At home with the feeling of unrest.
Riotous, lazy, malcontent,
Be safe in my harbor of dissent.
Beginning something new.
Taking a risk with hope.
I'm just The Fool
In your deck.
Another ship to wreck.
Once you were mine
But now you have floated from me
Like an untethered balloon
Up and away
To dance with the clouds.
