Decisions.

I've hit that wall that I'm fucked wall.

I've known for a long time that I'm making this choice to live this life

and that it has its' instantaneous consequences lurking in the background. That one 5 minute interval that changes it all.

And so here I am in that time warp wondering if it's worth it to hold onto it all, or should I just give up?

There is no hidden second option this time, no crazy rescue plan.

It's either in or out.

I've been trying to live directly, with some sort of direct consequence... And thus far I have out run everything.

When I left you said, "the house has calmed down, the air is not crackling. The psychic energy has released." After a while I ran into you in a bar and you said, eyes down "They turned your room into a living room. They painted over everything."

Everyone talks to me like the places I've been are graveyards.

And I'm trying to learn how to be unobtrusive and am traveling by foot backwards in time, checking on the status of the bridges, to see which have fallen and which have burned. To see where it is possible to get from here to there.

cell phone memos pt. 1

pushed  away on the outside always

the outside of my own doing the way out gone

he said leap and I interpreted it as go away but maybe it was

just wait like, take your time like, find out what this is first.

Maybe I'm so far away from real life from this idea

that I wanted from the people that love me that any excuse

for pain for that shot of reality for anything really

I will go flying now and I look around with the wind in my ears 

sweet body suspended in disbelief or time wondering

how long 'til I hit the ground?

shuddering.

Driving.

Put on PJ Harvey and sang along silently for 3 songs while my head was out the window, thinking that I'll never crash because I'm driving this car with my mind and my mind creates all of this around me, this whole world and I move like a shock wave, like rings around me like fingers reaching out and because all of this is me I am able to subconsciously anticipate What Happens Next. I will always be a beat ahead. And anyway, even if that weren't true and I did get into an accident it doesn't matter because I can fly. And I watched myself fly up over the blinders on the concrete barrier of the highway, I watched myself lift over that and then my mind went blank. I saw tail lights and heard silence. What?
Wondering if my ears had shut off. iPod says "PJ Harvey - triangle - double bar - triangle - double bar" and then back to triangle. Sound comes suddenly, exactly synched with track in brain. Exactly.

Finally.

I played my favorite music through your earphones to lure you

to share with you the dull droning,

to show you the potential for clip.

I made you come to me,

and you did: repeatedly.

You lay your sick mouth against mine

and the sad slow moments passed between us 

like two tug boats in an empty harbor,

drifting away.

In waiting I tormented myself constantly,

like a deep pond stirs in a storm

churning, thrashing

stretching out luridly

lapping at my own shores

waiting for you as if

you were the lightning strike.

and you were.

You slashed into me deeply, splitting the curtain

and entering

silently, stealthily

crashing to the core.

Illuminating the insides thoroughly

fleetingly

I grasped desperately at the electricity

as it passed between us

and then you were gone again

with my surface still quivering

and all the fish dead.

take it all back

your red mouth a round circle against my ear

whispering your in-between things during the

dark times

the make believe times.

I always knew the great truth of us,

that we were listening in clip that

it couldn't sustain

but I pushed further.

You asked me to Leap!

and I resisted,

but there is no great sadness,

there are no lessons to be had here.

life is a fragile ever changing arrangement

and you have become a quiet memory

that lurks in misplaced polaroids and

voicemails that were never deleted.

Radio Silence

you used to tell me truths of all sizes
and I believed you and listened.
I held them in my hands like delicate glass balls
of swirling colors and flakes of mica
of silver and gold dust.
I've packed them away now, gently for later
waiting in a sense for the prodigal return.
All of those hopes and dreams they held
burried in the crumpled re-used tissue,
the tired paper
of years gone by,
of wrapping and un-wrapping,
of the sad tradition.
It is that time again,
when I hold them up to the light,
to inspect the imperfections
to make sure they are all intact
and some of them I'll polish,
holding them in higher esteem
nestled so closely
to the things that I also believe.
When you come home I will
unpack them happily.
I'll hang them joyously around your neck,
to dress you
in everything that you
have ever said.

simulacrum

last night a restricted number called
while I was sleeping and
when I answered there was only beeping and
I listened for a few minutes pretending it was you.

If I had know this was the answer
I would have stayed here forever
to be with you indefinitely
while you were biding your time.

As it is my heart is breaking at
the idea of my leaving but I can't
wait through another moment of
"you'll be okay either way ."

Your kisses were encouragement
to step away from the malnourishment
that I have been holding myself up against
all of this time.

And in this way I am thankful for 

this false courtship you have forced me through
And these silly scraps of affection
you have been throwing my way.

So, for the next few days I'll step away
from these feelings of abandonment
inadequacy and ineptitude
that inevitably accompany the dissolution of
the thing you once believed would be
that nightmare you called love.

And I'm walking away slowly pulling
the string I've caught between my teeth
pulling slowly up my throat the pill
in which I had swallowed all my pride

and that briny taste that vomit makes
will linger on my tongue beyond this 

endless day of nothingness
this waiting for the meaning of
all the things that have passed between.