schism. 1

don't waste away. leave this place. quickly.

the weak are like vampires. i use my compass often.

i
try to say
what
i
feel.

always. i have been cursed from the start. torn apart. lifted, then thrown back into the pit.

it's black magic!

it's the universe laughing at me!

it's something i cannot confess or conceal!

i'm sliding down into myself. making sense of my shadows. dwelling in there, simmering, bubbling over.

something reached for me. i pulled away. i will not be caught...yet!

i will not be caught, i will not be caught.

i say this over and over; it is my mantra.

maybe someday, i will believe it.

I am youthful in appearance
worn down in the soul
heart jaded or more like,
pre-occupied with the minor things

I sometimes spin a confusing web
of stories that may or may not be true

I've left situations in chaos
stirred up the pot by my own will
I've decided I'm a fucker
rather than
being fucked.

I've decided I'm many things
and easy isn't one of them.

You can travel down this road
with a plan and with a map
but you will get side tracked

I will make sure of this.

I am youthful in appearance
with a sweet devil smile
one hand behind my back
and tricks on my mind

but I assure you
it's a fun ride.

spilled wine.

I was staring at the pictures of you and her;you looked so much in love. Her pregnant belly stuck far out and she looks content. You had your arms around her and you smiled that fierce smile I know very well. You both look happy, fulfilled, and perfectly matched.

I remember when your motorcycle would pull up to my apt, and you took me out riding. we had no idea where to go. We had lunch at a coffee shop where we talked about creativity, sex, and the world turning shitty when you've "given up and given in" then you'd kiss me with eyes closed pulling me very very close then you'd get back on your bike and ride back home to her.

I'm happy that you're happy.
It had to happen to one of us.
eventually.

unexplained and unreclaimed.

I'm creating these spaces just for you. Making room for no one else but you.
when you decide
to swallow your pride

see these shifting movements will collide in time

im running circles around you
but just in my head

i'm wishing things were more simple
i wish i was more aware of the obvious things
the big picture
the generalities and such

but it must start somewhere

one cannot start from the top
one must work they're way into that envisioned splendid glory
from the bottom

write me a letter sometime
shift the car back into neutral
find the territory where you'll be "safe"
catapult those nightmares straight into space
downgrade your attitude
give me some room-dont assume
learn to assimilate with those you call your "closest mates"
call out
or
shout out

i'll be waitin in the woods.

the lesson.

start from the top
then work your way down.
work through the chaos
chip away
all that is false.

start from the top
work your way down
dig deep
move fast
or slow (if thats how you like it)

be attentive
at all times
learn to read
between the lines
pay attention
move left to right

find the spot
that makes the heavens explode
breaking down barriers
push if you have to
pull if you want to

tense and rough
or maybe
soft and slow

magic only happens
when you know where to go.
let it out
push back in

start from the top
then when you're done,

start all over again.

bender.

dirty dishes in the sink
waking up to this incredible heat

last night was a blur

what happened?

strangers asleep on my living room floor
needle on the record (Pink Floyd) ready to be flipped hours ago.
empty beer cans found in unexpected places:
behind the toilet
under the sink
in the closet

my head feels tight and hot
my stomach is spinning
and I want to shoot the birds outside
for chirping too loud

the cat is looking at me, cause clearly he has all the answers.

I take a look around my apt and survey the scene..
and wonder to myself
if i should just fall back to sleep.

I reach for the clock
and realize

its early morning Tuesday, 8:15...

push, force, pull, retreat.

They walked for miles until they came to a cliff. They both stared down into an abyss.
"what should we do?" he asked.

He was good at asking questions, but not good at providing answers. He was always happy being the one without the burden of responsibility.

He was also the one that led her here:

on the edge of a cliff, looking down into an abyss.

there was no wind, the weather was flat. Neither hot nor cold, just flat. They had many years together..a shared life which consisted of outings with friends, drunken moments punctuated by disappointing sex, families and bank accounts merged. He knew her well and she was comfortable.

too comfortable.

Something needs to give, she thought. she found herself growing distant as the years passed, he found himself getting old and set in routines.

She found herself deeply entrenched in a passionate love affair with her boss. There were many late nights and business meetings. While he stood home and watched amateur sex videos that had flat-chested brunettes with large asses, which closely resembled his crush in Jr. High.

She knew of his porn, he knew of her affair. Both played dumb to the facts. They were not making any sudden movements, anytime soon. They had history.

History between 2 people can either function as a strong bond or a rope that binds too tight, and sometimes even both.

so they kept on. Accumulating years, memories, wounds & doubts.

and here they were, standing on a cliff, looking into an abyss.

so many questions
no one wanting to answer.

the symptom of something larger.

it was the tip of the iceberg
lost by default
shifting inside this madness
my heaven
my hell
the shadows i dared to dwell
im soft and lost and infinitely blue
wrapping myself in something
getting lost in you
turning sour
turning sweet
faking this new dance
stumbling over my two left feet

kiss me while im still alive
and waiting for the skies
to open wide
and swallow me up
find me gone,
gone, gone,
gone.

i should have seen it coming
but its best to be blind
sometimes

fact & fiction

detoxed and fresh
no longer spoiled
clean and wiser
happy and balanced

renewed, clued-in and excited.

ready
to
start
each
day
with
an
optimistic
point of view.

head up, walk straight, and show your smiling face.

no longer depressed, head in a mess, constant stress, evaporated morphine sister-less, no more neediness.

watch out now!

good times are ahead!

yes, indeed,
someday, i said.

title 2

introverted boy wonder
makes me sit and think too much
makes me sit and drink too much
i make up stories inside my head
he reaches for the bottle
instead of the pen

he's an artist
just like me
you see,
and we've both got demons
that sit in the room
with us
every night
as soon as the boredom
starts to set in.

boy wonder
doesn't speak much
but translates everything to me
telepathically
and sometimes
i misunderstand
if i try to read it through his eyes.

i am convinced
there is a symphony inside his heart and
behind those blue eyes of pain
there is heat and wonder
for everything good
and everything bad we want to burn away

he's an introvert
and i talk too loud
when i enter rooms
extend my hand to strangers
the same hand thats ready to fight
because i am confrontational.

he's like a calm sea
while i am a hurricane

we sit in the room
with our demons
and i make up stories in my head
he reaches for the bottle
instead of the pen

we know we'll both give in
but its just a matter of when.

you dont know me but,

send me a prayer
while I dance upon broken glass
wish me luck and cross your fingers
while I spit out lies
and attempt to hide my madness

Ask the saints to watch over me
while I lay down this destructive path
pray that the Gods forgive me
when I've stepped out of the light

when I'm tangled up beneath the covers
when I'm crawling backwards up the walls
when the fog is settling in
and the dogs are ready to tear me apart

send me a little prayer
and relieve me from this
so that I may be delivered
into the hands of mercy

and I could breathe again
in the wake of my new illusions

Dive.

you burn your bridges girl...
faster than
you change your underwear.

your mouth shoots poison
quicker than your brain
can process
the consequence.

look at you girl,
spreading your love
as if you were for sale
always entering rooms
like a hurricane

you remind me of:
a wilted dandelion
inevitably being pulled
by the wind

no care,
no mystery

just a bruised, paranoid heart
stitched onto
a used up sleeve

we had the blues while the city was on fire.

the scene, currently:

I am in a blue room with an orange painting that hangs to my left.
a dead, colorless rose, pinned to a wall with a frame around it.
last nights bottle of rum, sits lonely and forgotten

outside,
the city glows orange
from the fires
in the hills

its just
heat,
suffocation
and stillness

everywhere

but

we are inside this room
we are buried inside ourselves
we want to sleep
yet we are not awake

we're simply
just being

much like the orange painting hanging on the wall
much like the colorless rose, framed
much like the lonely and forgotten bottle of rum

we are all of these things
and then some.

the suffering.

The suffering

Has outlasted its welcome

Like a friend from out of town

Crashing on your couch.



The suffering

Has us

crawling on our knees

scraping pennies

Eating peanut butter

For dinner

Out of jars



The suffering

Has us

Traumatized

From over drafted bank accounts

Cars running on empty

That familiar tightness

In the belly

In the heart

On your life






But don't fret

The suffering

Is your friend



It drives you

It propels you

It separates you

From the rich bitches

With soft asses

And bored hearts

Who know nothing

About

Getting down in the trenches



When the days are cloudy

And the nights are long

When you go to bed hungry

And your mind is about to break



Remember

The suffering

is the teacher

that demands discipline

from your heart

for whatever it is

you're putting on the line.



This suffering

Will tear you down

force you out of

that comfortable

and familiar rhythm



and someday

You will thank it

When you've finally reached

the place

and the person

you were meant to be.

Learn your lesson well.

Listen,

Just cause you bought me
fancy lingerie
from a high end store
doesn't make you
my boyfriend.

it just makes you
a sucker
who had high hopes

the crusade of apocoloyptic christians and the study of man.

we're anticipating the arrival of something.
we'll know it when it arrives.

we don't know what it looks like
we don't know what it smells like
or how it feels
but somehow,
when it arrives
we're gonna know it.

we're waiting here
with open arms and high hopes
we've even got our Sunday's best on

we're all waiting for the arrival of something

what it looks like
how it arrives and when,
we don't know

but its gonna save us
from ourselves

somehow.

for Hank.

this sickness,
we all have it
inside of us
growing like a baby in the womb
destined for doom

but its not all heavy
its not all war all the time
but more betting on the muse

its easy to misinterpret
something that seemed so ugly on the outside
but was really just careful beauty
on the edge of a raw wound

thats whats wrong with most people
(but not all)
you give them something
and they translate it to their own vision
just like the bible

what can you do,

but roll the dice
drink your beer
and dont up a fight.

sunday's dream.

when the ship started to sink
they all jumped overboard

except for the captain
who sat in the corner
and whistled a tune
to himself
and to all the sea creatures below
and to the angels he'd meet
and to the hell he'd probably get to see
and for all the women he loved before
and the women he'll never get to touch again

he whistled that tune
until his death

'to live by the sea and die by the sea'

was what his tattoo had said.

automatic midnight with boy wonder

he was pale and very thin, with long limbs and jagged boned hips. he wrapped his thin arm around me and kissed me on the forehead. we had been drinking since 10pm and now it was 3am. his blue eyes are beautiful still, even when the redness in his face gives away his severely inebriated state.

i fell asleep somewhere between our last conversation and when the room started to turn that calming, peaceful blue. it must've been 5am.

when i woke up again, he was asleep, lost in a dream. and when we woke up again, it was 11am. he started to have the shakes. i was both terrified and sad to see him in such a state. i fed him breakfast: an ice cold tecate with lime, and he seemed better again; he seemed himself.

so this was how the weekend came to be. and i couldnt help myself to join in, because i am just as much addicted to what he called 'Mother Booze'

we both described that warm embrace as soon as the booze kicks in. we had this thing, we had found eachother although temporarily, we atleast had this. everyone picks their poison..and i confess to choosing mine.

"mother booze. both my curse and my muse" i recited to him as we cheered eachother and drank our fears, our fucked up childhood memories, our loneliness, away with every bottle.

bring on that warm embrace as the alcohol takes place-swirling swiftly through our blood, casting that magic spell making us reach that destination we're always trying to find sober and never can. i know, its the problem we have but everyone chooses their poison and at 10pm on a saturday night, we are lost inside the bottles and in our own made up dreams.this make believe life we create so that we are allowed to exist, to manage all the painful shit.

and at 8am, when we woke up again still drunk and light headed, he asked for more beer before the shakes set in again. i gave him another and watched him down the can head back and eyes closed, his body naked, pale, and thin. a boy and a man, far ahead of me traveling down that grimy road.

sometimes, some people gotta travel their own dark roads alone.

judgement day.

false friends
and future lovers
im pleading
can you hear me
inside this celluloid womb?

i watched as
a billion faces turned to dust
shining bright lights like glorious diamonds
straight into my skull

desert trips embraced
by my memories
squandered by emotional catastrophes

and im singing loud
to drown out the sound
of all the bridges collapsing
around me

there was a purpose
to this disguise
ripping myself open, deep & wide

youre gonna know the trigger happy girl-demon inside apocalyptic dreams
falling apart straight from the seams

remember me
dont forget me
write me
when you wake up
from your poisoned sleep!