and the year has come to an end. all this trial and tribulation, all this dis-ease, all this pain and madness, all this alienation and sorrow.
where does it comes from?
i weep thinking of you, your death, your life, the pain i’ve brought you, the harm you’ve inflicted on me, ‘you’ over and again, always different, this cavalcade of pointing, the infinite gesture, of reaching outside from within, of breaking the skin, breaking this veil, into some other place, where there is only you, only me, i and other, eternal, absolute and pure.
Monthly Archives: December 2008
project snowflake: harry opening amanda
i really don’t know where to begin. sometimes it feels as if i knew amanda before i even met her. she had that quality: she reminded you of someone you had hurt and you were compelled to make amends. for all of her strength and intelligence, she would often come off like a wounded animal. and while most of the time you were tempted to put her out of misery, you found yourself more often than not tending to her, licking her wounds, brushing the hair out of her eyes, and holding her through the night.
little did i know that more i held her together, the more i came apart.
you're going home
there are things you walk away from. a car accident, a pistol, drug use.
there are things you cut off. a tumor, an infected limb, a telephone line.
but there are things you cannot abandon. love, children, peace.
here to be love whipped
do i arrive too quickly? do i come and go too easily? am i difficult? am i difficult to please? she stands before me, whip in hand. how remarkable. so easy, as if she was meant for this. but i do not want to be whipped, i want to break, i want to be shattered. she presses her body onto mine, runs her fingers in my hair. you are loved, she tells me, rubs herself even harder against me. am i? i whisper, am i here to be loved?
moss, mold
dreams of infinite sadness, i cough bleeding. three shot, perched amongst ruins, a tombstone slanted from the mud. i do this to relieve the pressure of your mouth. and she was scarred from head to toe. broken twigs lined the driveway and the spigot was afoul. i had heard of this, of winds tearing into houses and stealing wills. and she was talking from all places all at once. amok and cindered, christmas trees wrapped tightly into nuances. we can only keep nothing. and i breathe moss, i breathe mold.
crushed
Mysteries and puzzles. She says to me, you’ll never figure this out. And I dig my nails deep into her thigh, deep into her back, through gritted teeth I reply, you never wanted to be figured, you only wanted to be blindly adored.
unwrapping
And of course, christmas morning, the boy stumbles about and the girl rips through the gifts starving and half mad.
What beauty they still possess. How they shine while I grow old and dull. My god, they are mine and they outshine everything I’ve ever done.
x-mas eve
i steam through the night, angered and restless and bored with no where to vent, no safe place to let it go. i hunger and crack and feel uncontrollably spoiled and privileged. she comes to me in the night, children asleep, exhausted and lonely. i’ve missed you, she says.
i miss everyone.
she holds me
it can be difficult, you must, you must not turn away. you must turn to them, you must turn to the light.
you must learn, she says, to see how others see you. you must see the beauty others see in you.
and i try, i try, i spin and turn and fall and fail and scramble for purchase.
she holds me close. she holds me still. she holds me. she holds me.
snaggletooth
multitask multi-be, be everywhere, all the time, stretch across your lovely claws through time and space and the small of her back and the edge of her lip, snag a nail there, pull her mouth towards yours, just before piercing the skin, just before bleeding, let go and kiss her, kiss the wound before it heals.