i hate wanting things
i hate thinking im going to make it the month without stress because I am not
but i want things want things
nothing expensive everything cheap everything good but I CAN’T AFFORD THEM
they are all good things but i dont need any of them
not a single one
i did fine without them
this is what happens
this is what happens
this is what happens
I read the things that I wrote when I know I was desperate
When the desperate was upon me
when it was the only thing near me, surrounding me
perched on my shoulders like a raptor
(waiting for me to succumb just the tiniest bit)
my already hard as stone flesh under the digging sharpness, not giving way
I am stronger than you in my pain
I am more than you even in my terror.
That pain, that terror, it lives in my body.
Just as I know that too many crunches or coughs or orgasms can make my body feel anxious even though it is simply muscle memory.
My body contracts when I am terrified; it attempts to make itself smaller
as if I could instantly transform a 228-pound half-ton-lifting body into something smaller
What if
What if instead of contracting I
e x p a n d e d
instead?
Took up more room.
Reached out for more explanation.
I know that
(you know how you get)
I know that I only used to have rage as a solution.
I know that instant inner and outer screaming was the only possibility.
I don’t feel that way anymore
(you know how you get)
I haven’t felt that way for some time
(you know how you get)
I feel so much more able to unroll the things in front of me
(you know how you get)
Keep the center fast
(you know how you get)
It is so much to shut out.
Take smaller bites, then.
Stop reading when you begin to go elsewhere.
Pull back.
Enforce your boundaries.
(you know how you get)
Yes, I do. It’s too much to be and still stay standing.
Let go of the things that hurt and don’t serve.
The things that I would say
The things that I would say to you if I had your ear again
I mean of course how much I love you and fucking Christ I miss you but also
How much I miss massaging your hands the way you like
That yes please write my Etsy descriptions for me so that I don’t have to and
I am so sorry that I said no when you offered. What was I thinking??
I wasn’t.
If you thought I was scattered before
It’s like pistachio shells on the pavement now.
The ravens are noisy overhead, more so than usual
as I sit outside in the grey.
If I were someone who saw signs in things
I would definitely feel that you are close.
But I don’t, so what do I do?
Push past, through.
Know the next immediate steps for today.
Focus on coming home.
you asked me more than once yesterday if i was okay
what gave it away
it is clear that you are unable to listen or unwilling it doesn’t matter which
you are unable to read my face until it is well past too late
yes, I know that you are going through some shit. yes I know that there are some things that seem beyond your control.
I have learned that it is safer for me to not engage with people who are acting like this until they stop, but that is the crux.
I am uncomfortable in my own brain in my own body in my own self
so to be around and be barraged by cutting commentary is not something I can sustain.
every least sneer is an accusation, is a judgement.
I am trying to remain whole, one. Here.
There is too much turbulence and I cannot keep fast to my core.
I cannot weather the storm any more.
Stay here.
Stay here stay here stay here
(repeating ad infinitum into the dark,
into the open windows of my car
out to the night
)
stay here
please
so much more for you so much more please stay.
I look out into the night, look into my mind to remember the things that are waiting for me.
please stay.
I know you feel unwelcome but please stay.
I know that you feel that there is no room for you and that you need to be by yourself but please stay.
Please stay.
I smoke and I smoke and I smoke and I smoke
I smoke until finally I find something that makes me laugh, I comment, “thank you, that finally made me laugh.”
knowing that it will only last until it doesn’t.
And now it is gone again.
Stay.
Please.
This is real fear. This isn’t the free-floating shit that pours over me like a fucking wave of lava no, this is real fear based in reality and is well-founded.
This is all of the usual panic and terror before a show coupled with the fact that I have decided to make a fucking living from my work. My real work. That kind of a decision takes confidence and it is a confidence that I am not so confident I have under me completely.
I know it’s there, I know way down it’s there.
The part of me that is the gatekeeper, She Who Heads The Committee, She stands in front of that door, arms crossed. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at me, looks me over the way I assume everyone looks me over all the time. It is She who I have to win over, ultimately, She is the one who pulls me together.
Let me in, I say, eyes meeting.
Let me in.
There are conversations that need to happen.
There are people that need to be confronted.
There are people who need to know exactly how I feel about them, about the things that they’ve done.
There are people who need to stand in front of me while I fume and scream and rage in their motherfucking faces.
There are people who need to stand in front of me and look me in the motherfucking eyes while I scream at them.
There are people who need to listen to the things I have to say.
What I would really like actually, is to punch these people.
To hit them, to punch them in their stupid fucking faces. To rip them limb from limb to tear them fucking apart.
I want to make these people bleed people I want them to bleed and suffer and scream in pain
I want them to know exactly what they’ve done.
I would like to take these people’s skulls and smash them into the ground I would like to watch their brains spill all over the sidewalks.
I would like their blood and guts and gore to run into the gutters.
DO YOU GET IT YET DO YOU?
do you get it?
No I am not okay. No.
I will never be okay you keep fucking with me I will never be okay.
This figuring out of things this
Figuring out of how things came to be
Things came to be me how I
Became.
It is overwhelming in every single way in all
three hundred sixty degrees.
It is inwardly and outwardly and upwardly and completely bowling me over and tearing me apart
no it is never too late to learn I just wish you were around so I could show you what I’ve learned who I am who I have become.
Who I am still becoming.
I am sitting in my car and I am smoking and I am shaking and I am full of fear and full of love and they are the same thing.
They have always been the same thing.
As I am parsing all of these things as I am
As I am.
As I am uncovering all of these separate very distinct very discrete things
As I am peeling back the layers and understanding implicitly very explicit differences in things
I am filled with patience and sadness at all the time lost in between then and now.
Knowing that I have the rest of forever to be well.
Having promised you the rest of forever to heal.
I had the rest of your forever.
and you have mine.
i say things out loud
i say them out loud when no one is around, i don’t write them.
they are so true (are they?) they are so true but i want to doubt, that they are not.
so i only say them to the wind.
The smallest things
The smallest idea of a thing
The possibility of a full fucking moon and a sky full of stars
The next kiss
The next kiss
The next kiss
The sun shining on my bed
The next kiss.
The Salty Widow 