An Attempt at Honesty

There's a compulsion to tell you these things,
     share these revelations with you
someone to analyze them with so it's not just different parts of me
- They tend to repeat each other when it gets to be too much -
I don't think you're my saving grace
     but you feel like a piece of me
Not knowing what's only in my head - that trait of being able to see all of this
define it, pinpoint it, separate it
Predict It.
All the others have been practice for you
     for this
of course, the inevitable doubt: Is it just me?
Fearing the one-sided effect again, pulled between emotion and reason
attempting to combine the two
there's a physical energy inflicted within these thoughts,
Forcing me to admit you never left my mind.
You're not the only one I've frightened
 - it excites me to push that limit
blow your mind
(I'm doing my best to keep ego out of this)
Giving myself permission
to probe these emissions that come out
I'm realizing how much you exhilarate me
   I'm not done using you
(I'm exposing myself to this)
Tangible awareness - the ability to physically mold it, feel it seep through my fingers
enveloped in my own magic
IS THIS REAL
to be part of your reality (again)
 - I recognize I thrive on this madness.

Tittle Wave

This is starting to unravel me a bit
not because it feels bad,
more a realization that I have to keep living,
     that wasn't the Final Stop
this life is tiring (even I hear how crass those words sound)
to move to nature - whatever that is for you -
simplify this existence to such a degree
   vital to what I need
exist off of music, air, love, sex, art
energy - not materialism, not money
     It's a game in this country
follow your own advice,
set things up for yourself
because this city is starting to drain that vitality
All this stuff, backwards priorities - and now I still miss you very much, apparently,
     but I don't know what I want
it's different this time because I can step outside myself and give a blunt opinion
but that doesn't make it un-biased
battling this feeling of resignation
How many times do we have to do this?
is it all about someone to share it with?
I don't want my life to be defined by that,
yet I validate this desire to try again with you, being the person I am now
     Just to see what happens
(the amount of time we spend convincing ourselves otherwise)
there's so much we never got to create together, energy that was never shared
I'd love to make music with you
listen to the sounds that come out of our history together
     To be open to that release (would you?)
Understanding patience, waiting for both of us to catch up
resisting the urge to flip to the last page and find out if I'm meant for you
This still feels like something taken from me
     dissecting your parallels that I've encountered in the intervening years
people that prepare me for you
Qualities I recognize - my original muse
Going on and on about you
     even still.

Acceptance

This abyss that threatens to swallow us
constantly comparing stories, experiences
     ideas
uncertain as to whether you're good enough
It's so easy to hate, especially on ourselves
     Practically encouraged
Acceptance in something earned
     Who decided that?
Those standards don't gel with our minds which cut through anything (including us)
slicing bullshit, burning with intolerance
Indignant that we should be put in this position
It's turning itself inside out
     hiding behind that convenient word Crazy
You yearn for understanding yet cling to the maze, the reputation it gives
The safety of this whirlwind
We're exhibitionists, there's no denying that
So you expose yourself again and again
     giving your soul in the hopes that something sticks
All you want is something to show for it -
and they label you Hyperbole.

First Reading Experience

They think I'm on drugs when I shake like that
     This nervous energy -
is that the residue of negativity?
trying to shake it out...
I'm almost gonna faint again
How do you remember to breathe along with everything else?
Diaphragm out, in
pick a spot in the back of the room
     (no that doesn't work, I look like a robot)
feel the words, this rhythm
Am I apprehensive because it's invigorating?
attempting to comprehend that gift of Flow
"You've been doing this since you were a kid", he said,
     I'd forgotten
like I just forgot half the words to my song
Get up and try again
I got so nervous I accidentally kicked the cord that unplugged the mic
Laugh at yourself
Add it to your collection of stories to tell
Make something out of it so it doesn't just sit there
there was no judgement from them - just observance
it left me wanting to create new things to show (myself) them.

Unlocking Pandora's Box

     Exactly 2 months ago today, I finally had one of my New York dreams come true: I moved into my first apartment all by myself - no roommates!

It was fascinating to see my personality begin to coat the interior.  Painted walls, a piano, pictures, art work, and dozens of adornitos that I'd collected over the years began to decorate my place.  I don't have to ask anyone if I can put those flowers in that kitchen corner because that decision only rests with me now.  It's deliciously liberating.

     In the midst of my move I uncovered a box of memories that had been locked away inside my head and this led me to begin exploring my past again, revisit things I hadn't summoned in 10 years.  I wasn't doing this for pity or attention, nor because I was trying to go back to that time or make anything the way it was.  Rather, these were memories I had completely forgotten about - some were blocked out so forcefully because I thought they didn't matter - some because I was told they were meaningless.  

     The realization that your love for a person can make you lose yourself; to really accept that you literally forgot, blocked out, and changed who you were...to realize you allowed yourself to go that far, to lose that much of a grip on reality - you have to turn those acidic thoughts into something productive, if not you'll corrode overnight.

     So I turn to you, mujeres:

Do you feel your past grounds you in your daily life?  Do you walk with your past as a proud part of who you are, or do you hunch over in an attempt to hide it?  We all have things we really wish we didn't remember - is there something you wish you could?

     There is no judgement here - more a desire to no longer be silent.  We are held to so many double standards imposed on us by society as a whole, and we are considered damaged if we don't meet those standards.  

     Here's what I think about that:

I love what I've been through and refuse to be ashamed of it any longer because I've realized I don't have to be.

"I think your whole life shows in your face and you should be proud of that." - Lauren Bacall