|cut out everything in-between and you are left with nothing to blame
||[01 Jun 2011|10:01pm]
I am not his karma
or his karma
or her karma
I am not my own name
or his name
or her name
I am not responsible
for his mistake
or her misguidance
But most of all:
I am not the one
to hold this burden
like it has no weight.
I am not afraid to cut those ties. and at 25, you can be sure I have learned how to use those shears.
||[18 May 2010|01:51pm]
"THEY ALWAYS COME BACK A LITTLE TOO LATE."
I warned you
& my watch never lies
& now that my lungs are light and airy
|& there's a rage going on indoors
||[13 May 2010|10:12pm]
it's hard to breathe in the same room. your presence is thickening and my lungs are not so strong.
truthfully, they are collapsing. meanwhile you stand on top of me resilient and so obviously oblivious to the weight you push onto my fragile chest--clearly, you have no idea--for what reason would you have any? for what, of the seven reasons you had before? did you think i believed you when you said you weren't capable of counting past then? and then. your hands wrap around my own and beg me to tell you that i was never eight while the rhythm of your heart beating against my skin deafens logic, i count the paces. one two..five six...seven...i can't hear myself think! meanwhile, i'm just trying to BREATHE so i can count past two! all i ever asked for was a shared second. all i ever desired was to catch my breath twice.
don't you remember when i begged you to not take that away, again?
of course not. you were too busy sucking up all the air. panting, talking in laps and pointing fingers. of course, it was only my fault. of course, i put that air in the room and of course, i made the choice to not take it in selfishly. and your pointing fingers are just my reflection, pointing fingers back at me. and this room that we're stuck in is only an imagined small space. and the rage that i'm feeling and the weight on my chest is unaccounted for, much like the quickened beating of my heart. when my breath. is taken. away from me.
much like how you can't bear to admit we're in the same room to begin with.
so maybe i'm alone
maybe i don't need the air
maybe your pointing fingers
and my resentful stare
thicken this space
to create my own worst enemy.
so i'll take your advice
& learn only to exhale.
|The problem, the solution.
||[24 Mar 2010|08:56am]
I feel as if I'm trying to solve a really complicated math equation when I'm with you. Despite all of my logic that screams to me 1+1=2, I know in your heart you believe the answer is really 11--and I can't make any sense out of your reason. The true issue is that all I've ever wanted out of this was sense. and by "this" I don't necessarily mean "us" or "it" but rather THIS, as in the experience I'm going through at this very moment--this evolving whirlwind of emotion and empathy and exacerbation all rolled into one-what is THIS? I want to ask you, though it feels similar to questions like "what is life?" "who is God?" or "why do my underwear keep disappearing?"--No one true answer. When I tell you I can see you panicking, that does not go to say I am afraid. It does not mean that your uncertainty is pushing me away. It doesn't even mean that for a second I'm re-evaluating the equation and saying to myself, well FUCK YOU, 1+1=2 and that's that. Instead, everything I've come to learn about you is being strewn across the table in front of me and all I want to do is encourage you to piece yourself back together. Fuck it, if 11 makes sense then stand behind 11 and I will support your nonesense, even when your critics remind you you are wrong. You asked me to trust my instincts when I'm with you. They are telling me you might need to hire a math tutor--but therein lies the problem--it is you alone who has to be willing to learn from this.
But how can anyone learn from anything when his supporter is only nodding in agreement?
So there. It's been said. 1+1=2. It's just fucking logic. It's always been this way. 11 is just ignoring the facts and I'm sorry--but I can't allow my heart to bend one way when you won't even consider my answer. So I'll stay guarded. And I'll be your friend. And I'll listen to you make sense out of your ridiculous math until you run out of breath and reason. And when everything is over and said and done, I will be standing right here, ready to lend you the biggest eraser I own.
|just a little empty this time
||[25 Feb 2010|09:19pm]
and not wanting to be filled, what's the purpose? really. is there a point? really. never thought so, so leaving mouths parched and silent seems to make more sense these days.
almost sure you never imagined i would ever be lacking in thirst..never knew i would learn to settle in a desert, yet here i am, as dry as autumn leaves left over from last summer's sun, boldy refusing your private oasis. & please, im not bragging, that was never in my nature. though the way it felt when blood running through veins once swollen pumping moving with rhythms matching your glances when they stopped//
//i felt a strange calm in me. i felt a stillness in my heart that a long drink from your wells never seem to give. i felt the way it must feel when you stared past my tried tired eyes and still saw no sort of passion pouring out from within me. how could you ever understand why i kept up.
so i stopped.
pretending to drink from your oasis was a myth.
like my need for hydration.
and your desire to be emptied of it.
but now you've noticed my cup is overturned so tell me, again, how will you ever manage to refill it?
|objects in mirror are closer than they appear
||[20 Jan 2010|11:22pm]
i want to wash over this year like it was last's, no question, just let it slip through between my toes along with sandy memories from now & then.
& then again bring me back to the present to scuff me with your salty heir just to make my skin cringe with the thought of drying but how could i possibly dry when all you're good for is keeping me (wet?) seriously i would pretend i never learned to swim if you could promise to hold my head still under water if you could promise to send me only thoughts of air promises of air hopes of air just imagine air my way, don't let me breathe it
ill never appreciate it.
like ill never appreciate the way you make my head spin when you tell me everything's fine. everything's fine, in the way we've all knowingly turned ourselves into victims and worst enemies at once...
& like my mother (would have) said
the only one to fear
is the one who refuses to acknowledge the differences
found in her own goddamn reflection
||[04 Jan 2010|08:37pm]
can be interpreted in so many ways
i like to think
is an illusion
disguised by someone finding a means to an end
but no one likes to contemplate what happens when that end is met
so all our lives, we run around in circles finding excuses to lengthen our "progress"
in fear that we'll find nothing left when everything is said and done.
so, that being said, here is my resolution for 2010:
Embrace All Endings
as bittersweet reminders
of what was, versus what would always be
& look forward to starting over again
|"you were right."
||[14 Dec 2009|09:24pm]
& then she remembered who she was.
where she came from
how she lived
without a single star to guide her--
only black, empty skies swallowed secrets while absence of the moon's light hid a disappointed face.
& why? was this so. when really, it was her destiny to spend life surviving.
that is who she is
who she always will be!
so why? be afraid of her future
when her past
has held nothing worth regretting?
there are only smoother seas to sail ahead--regardless of the passengers on board--
so why (not)? the water moves her foward and flowing
& now, that is all that matters.
||[15 Sep 2009|09:07pm]
"HAPPINESS IS NOT THE ONLY HAPPINESS"
nor was love ever a feeling. you can never lose something that was not to be posessed. you can never promise someone something that you never had. you cannot believe in someone that you are uncertain of! SO WHY BOTHER?! SO WHY BOTHER?! SO WHY? SO why? Why? Why...
but your answers
are not the only answers.
is not the only love.
as my happiness
was never your happiness.
so you lost your car keys. like i lost my way. and the only thing i can scream to you over unanswered calls is FUCK YOU. I HOPE YOU NEVER GET BACK IN.
like your happiness had no right to be my only happiness.
let that selfishness skin bubble beneath me i will grasp it to my skeleton like a warm blanket ALL OVER AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN.
but never again
will i find myself lost
with you holding the only pair of keys.
|rainy with a chance of more rain
||[23 Aug 2009|11:43pm]
there wasnt meant to be an answer in my silence
though admittedly when you asked for the third time if i missed the rain, my lack of words held up more than enough space to suffocate your need for an answer. you left me choking on your absence. 23 years later i've already forgotten the ways youve taught me to breathe.
why should i believe in your return?
your intentions are so good at being so misleading. i couldnt have been more lost in my entire life, even if i tried the whole time. and under sunny skies.
meanwhile feet still soaked through puddles unforgiving in depth, a cold is catching on from the toes up. &
is being held hostage under your care.
fuck the weather lady. fuck being too cheap for rain boots. fuck not investing in that ugly coat to begin with.
sometimes i wish youd sit down in this rain with me. maybe it would help you to understand how your daughter came to resent the sky.
||[02 Aug 2009|11:43pm]
I'd like to be alone
in an auditorium
with a microphone
no audience in earshot.
& on that mcrophone
I would yell
just in reassurance of the loudness of my own voice
off empty seats
and the blinding brightness of stage lights.
my sound will return to me & everyso
I would take the time
to everything my voice had to say.
|To Amy Caparaz July 3, 2009
||[08 Jul 2009|12:31am]
Seeing you again was a painful reminder of that summer 4 years ago when I almost tricked myself into believing there was no point in Life. This is why I didn't visit.
Just hearing your voice, your cooing, "how are you doing"s brought me back in tears each time after that because I knew that you knew what lengths I had gone through to keep my head up above rising waters with nothing to keep me afloat. And truthfully, I was embarrassed. I had been drowning for two months with lack of sleep, little nourishment, and just enough thought process to go over & over & over again in the riptides of my mind what the fuck I did wrong-
WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO WRONG, AMY, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME
You were the first person to tell me it was nothing.
Of all the people I had in my life, you were the one I was least close with. The last person I expected empathy from. You were there to remind me that this was never, ever, my fault. And I thanked you for that once...but not enough times..
I let my embarrassment control me-the only reason why I hadn't been more friendly towards you after returning. I was so sure you thought I was pathetic, and never wanted your family to get close. I didn't blame you. My actions were enough to set anyone off in the other direction. But in truth I would have never made it without you.
Your consistent words of comfort, answering of hysteric calls, and trying your best to help me get over something that was never deserving of me in the first place, was more than I could have asked for from you. Yet it came from you without any hesitation. You reminded me that no matter what I was feeling like at that moment, I was still ME.
Amy, you were my unexpected Angel. The strength you gifted me with then is the same strength I carry now. For that, I will be eternally thankful..
I pray for that same love, patience and understanding for those who you have temporarily left behind.
|does it make sense
||[27 May 2009|12:44am]
that i push the hardest when i am tired? it almost seems as if no other occasion could inspire me to put forth even half the effort that comes without thinking when my mind and body have decided to desert one another.
when i catch them on the verge of fleeing in opposite directions
my only desire is to sit back
|She's testing me
||[19 Mar 2009|10:09pm]
my patience. She's testing me as if she expected practice to have begun in a previous lifetime....
She is testing the hell out of me.
& somehow as i sit restrained in my mental seat and desk
i cannot help but to feel disappoint in my own failure as a student.
she was testing me and i did not come well prepared.
Like any other test I've failed--Not a blank spot nor questionable number shall remain!
Like any other teacher I've met--No blissful moment of ass-kissing will be un-glossed!
Like any other challenge I've faced--
like any other challenge I've faced....................
any other challenge I've faced
Like no other challenge.
(Exasperated Sigh Here)
Like the Naima challenge she presents me at this moment, I will take it with a smile. Occasional Yip. And puppy face-lick.
She is lucky to be a bundle of cuteness.
||[24 Feb 2009|10:49pm]
I am alone. I was conceived alone. I was born alone. And when the day comes I will inevitably die alone.
All this time in my aloneness, and I have never once felt lonely.
Until one day I peered into the eyes of another loner
and found that merely my presence brought him joy
and I wondered, if perhaps I had been sacrificing something for sheer solitude.
But even so, my heart is not used to constant company.
She longs for days spent in contemplation for
..So in my now accompanied sleep
she basks in the quiet and beats louder, Harder, sometimes FASTER
as if to remind me-
"Above all, you will always be alone. But I will never let you be lonely."
|a 2008 resolution resolved
||[30 Dec 2008|09:06pm]
366 days ago (recall this was a leap year) a mental note was made in the presence of what i believed to be my other half. " i will listen more intently to me" was what whispered circles in my inner ear, inaudible to those surrounding me with loud voice. and somewhere between the time of 1150pm and 12am on the eve of new years eve, glasses raised high hopes hanging on balconies unseen for their release from the bounds of insecurity i wondered whether this newfound intentness would stir jealousy from lips once unmoved from my overly eager ears. and it did. as listening to anything other but thoughts shared was a really fucking selfish thing to do. and looking back at that half that seemed to gaze into my eyes less knowingly each year i wondered why i ever considered myself to be anything less than whole to begin with. i raise my glass with the others. close my eyes as if to escape his helplessness and my witness of exactly that. i take a breath and swallow the contents bubbling in my glass allowing inaudible sound to drown out the countdown to '08. 10, 9, 8 though i am not counting. only thinking louder. a second bottle pops and i am looking forward to a drunken stupor that is in fact not my own, but of his and hers and that other visitor who wouldn't dare show up. because, when they are drunk enough to hear my thoughts come pouring from lips once sealed tightly on liquored rims they will pause. think briefly. and excuse their audacity by drunkenly laughing them away. it was then that i put down the last glass of the evening before reaching the final "1!" to hear clearly the self promise once again. "i will listen more intently to me completely", and 366 days later i did.
||[25 Dec 2008|02:30pm]
and i was showered in shattered glass, with my eyes closed and ears wide open i heard every delicate piece crumble to its demise all around my feet fingers, and bare skin. The tile didn't give these sounds their justice! But as they hit the countertop and broke a million little pieces into ten million little pieces I couldn't have been more satisfied. These glasses were damn expensive and appropriately tucked away for months in the safety of bubble wrap plush popcorn and plastic protected from my clumsiness though I think we all knew they would inevitably be broken once we made it an excuse to open them all because we were too enticed by the flavoring of certain liquors on a certain day maybe to impress a certain someone? I'm not sure. they're not sure. But I can say that I will miss that beautiful echoing sound they made later that evening with wet fingers tracing smoothly along glass rims, half filled with soapy water, a quarter filled with unfinished excuses, and the rest leaving a calming the dryness on my once snapping tongue.
secretly, i am relieved they are gone.
i am relieved by my silence.
|im sitting outside a library
||[13 Dec 2008|11:38am]
as this is being written and it is nearly noon the movement of fallen leaves from trees surrounding the long paved road (that once was the path that marked my failure) are the only sounds i hear here there are people walking back and forth where i am sitting stepping on these leaves as if they were nothing at all but i can hear them scream as they crunch loudly beneath self absorbed feet they are nothing but debris now.
meanwhile, there is an ice chill that is slowly trickling down my back as the winter breeze flows by me it is an icy reminder that i am still outside of the library. why am i outside the library. again, the crunching of leaves i sometimes wish that it would always be fall or that they would fall when i asked them to and the weather didn't bite as hard but the people were still covered in coats i wish i had a coat that was a fall-only coat but i think my warm blood refuses to believe that having more than one layer of cotton covering my skin might actually be useful truthfully, it is only the tips of my fingers that freeze.
then, a bell it is the same ringing bell that used to remind me how far away i was from home the bell that made me resent single-pane windows, sharper ears, and too much time on my (cold) hands i used to count her notes and wonder how many other people were aware of her voice and then quickly gave up when they kept asking me for the time. why dont they listen as hard. last night though, i heard a beautiful thing as i was walking to my car across campus i heard the bells begin to ring, reminding me that i had spent 9 hours reading to no avail--but there was a missing note i heard it--or did not hear it, rather and its silence was so loud to me that i stopped in my tracks just to give it the full attention it deserved almost as if it had given up on ringing at all leaving the other notes to ring as usual, but one was definitely gone this brought a smile to my face probably because i felt like the bell tower had perhaps been defeated, and i couldn't blame her over 100 years ringing the same tune with only one person to count her bells.
more crunching it is becoming louder because the library is going to open soon this will probably be my last day in this building cuddled in one of those balcony seats where would inevitably spend more time listening to other people's whispers than reading my work this is why i own headphones, to keep myself from ear hustling but if i could if i had the time the leisure i would sit and listen all day to every and anyone else's conversation.
i am freezing now having my fingers exposed for this long can't possibly be good for their health my nose is runny because i'm still getting over a cold, and my neck and cheeks are absentmindedly exposed i stand up but walk carefully around the leaves the survived and sacrificed.
only 5 more minutes until they let me enter. and then i will be done.
|I don't think it really matters, but
||[23 Nov 2008|09:52pm]
they intrigue me in ways beyond physical measure. all i've ever desired in conversation, in confession, in straight forwardness, was given to me willingly as if they didn't care who i told. and as much as i would like to repeat to everyone just what was said, and just how it made me feel.. how could you possibly rationalize the emotions i had based purely on my admiration of one's thought, raw intellect... insightfulness and unbiased truth? i am selfish. i dove deeper into my own consciousness with their encouragement and stolen curiosity, and within moments found myself submersed in everything i have ever wanted to think about and then some...thoroughly enjoying it.. so much so i became resentful of my obsession with punctuality as time kept seeming to slip away, and.all i wanted to do.
and listen some more....
until somehow we ran out of beautiful things to say.
|i am content.
||[01 Nov 2008|09:56am]
with everything. from the way my mind's thoughts flow to the shuffle of my body through its connection. i'm content with the mistakes ive made as learning was never a simple task for me. the time ive spent fixing those errors has all been a work in progress. i will continue to learn for the rest of my life.
i am satisfied with the way my emotions tend to get the best of me. i have never known anyone else to fall in/out of love with one person as often, or experience utter rage and sympathy at the same time. the fact that i am aware of these emotions as they come pouring out of me is something i will always be grateful for.
i am fine with my stubbornness. which is probably a no-brainer to most, but for many years i tried changing this about myself to no avail. sometimes, it gets the best of me. often, it gets the best of me. but most times it is what keeps me sane and alive. my stubbornness is what allows me to trust myself and that is a priceless quality.
i am ok with my family history. i understand that i am not necessarily alone. in fact, when i do find myself to be, it is mostly by choice. though the majority of the time my aloneness is what i prefer as there is nothing more desirable to me than being able to sort my thoughts without a hovering cloud above them.
i am 22 years old. i am determined and eager for the journey that lies ahead. i expect great things from myself. and i will patiently wait as they come.