Sunday, July 26, 2009
What is the best thing? What do dreams try and tell me? What boths and neithers will fill my world, or make it just as empty? What motivations do I want, do I have, do I need? Do I need? I find inspiration, but not where I want to, What makes me a better person? What is better? What is best? What I want for myself, on what level? How do I get it? How do I know what I've lost? How do I know if I'm losing? I'm not such a risk-taker, should I keep what I have, birds in hands, things in bushes? How long can I keep crawling side to side?
You pushed inside me
Loosened something
Shook me up
Smeared me
anywhere
you take me apart
derail my heart
wake me up
shake me
anywhere
i can't help touching
i sit and stare
curly hair
blue eyes
ANYWHERE
maybe it will rain
(months later....)
and then the rain came, it was hard and fast and loud and wonderful, I sat naked watching, wet and waiting for the lightning bolts that never came. Went beaglewalking in the morning, to smell the smells that are missing in the dry heat. But... it wasn't what I thought it would be. Dormant stenches activated by the wet.. stale dust, and dirt, and rotten garbage, stale urine. Maybe more rain would help. Or maybe just make mud. A faint frangipani, some eucalyptus...
it seemed ok, a vacation, bonding, insight, tears for the city whoring itself to what it loathes for survival, tears at my voyeurism, my cameraic compulsiveness, his not belonging, a sell out or a buy out, hard to pick it. Seemed rock solid.
but i have never had my heart beat so hard, never had whatever feeling that was rush up in me, dizzy, faint, exploding, at finally seeing someone. what is it? faith, no more....
grinding of the gears into self-destruct mode. or... destruct mode anyways. yet it seemed to have the opposite effect, just like last time, leaving me puzzled at being foiled and wondering what I want. again.
could it just be the hair? all this.... for curls?
charge me up
the ass in the jeans, perfection
i need a muse
i said i'm scared of commitment. he said, but there is no commitment other than living together. maybe that's the problem. i'm not good with promises, not so far anyway, especially not the ones I make to myself. i'm sincere at the time, but have some strange optimist inside me in search of something more suited, and a self-destruct mode that kicks in while I don't act on it. some truths remain unspoken. I dreamed of a president, a prince, instant laundry and an avenue of decay and old people's homes, a lawn. being left to wander while some cute little girls came in and wondered who i was, i belonged there but not long enough for a sense of entitlement. set to work redecorating, the old people needed a facelift. to their home, that is.
maybe i am sagging. or Sag-ing.
You pushed inside me
Loosened something
Shook me up
Smeared me
anywhere
you take me apart
derail my heart
wake me up
shake me
anywhere
i can't help touching
i sit and stare
curly hair
blue eyes
ANYWHERE
maybe it will rain
(months later....)
and then the rain came, it was hard and fast and loud and wonderful, I sat naked watching, wet and waiting for the lightning bolts that never came. Went beaglewalking in the morning, to smell the smells that are missing in the dry heat. But... it wasn't what I thought it would be. Dormant stenches activated by the wet.. stale dust, and dirt, and rotten garbage, stale urine. Maybe more rain would help. Or maybe just make mud. A faint frangipani, some eucalyptus...
it seemed ok, a vacation, bonding, insight, tears for the city whoring itself to what it loathes for survival, tears at my voyeurism, my cameraic compulsiveness, his not belonging, a sell out or a buy out, hard to pick it. Seemed rock solid.
but i have never had my heart beat so hard, never had whatever feeling that was rush up in me, dizzy, faint, exploding, at finally seeing someone. what is it? faith, no more....
grinding of the gears into self-destruct mode. or... destruct mode anyways. yet it seemed to have the opposite effect, just like last time, leaving me puzzled at being foiled and wondering what I want. again.
could it just be the hair? all this.... for curls?
charge me up
the ass in the jeans, perfection
i need a muse
i said i'm scared of commitment. he said, but there is no commitment other than living together. maybe that's the problem. i'm not good with promises, not so far anyway, especially not the ones I make to myself. i'm sincere at the time, but have some strange optimist inside me in search of something more suited, and a self-destruct mode that kicks in while I don't act on it. some truths remain unspoken. I dreamed of a president, a prince, instant laundry and an avenue of decay and old people's homes, a lawn. being left to wander while some cute little girls came in and wondered who i was, i belonged there but not long enough for a sense of entitlement. set to work redecorating, the old people needed a facelift. to their home, that is.
maybe i am sagging. or Sag-ing.
