Friday, November 27, 2009

Tears Form Rivers (at 12 or 13)

Pleasing everybody else
Except yourself
Your desires stored on a dusty shelf
So their trust is nonexistent
Yet your pain is scarily real
And you get stuck with the crap card deal
So who are your friends
Are they really enemies and foes
They don't seem to care
And how things turn out, who knows?
Talk about themself, that's all that matters
Stripped and ripped - my soul in tatters

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Today I'm grateful for

- a mild autumn so far
- the realization that I'd be happier if I cooked less
- understanding what it means to take care of myself
- the Indian and sushi places that deliver to my apartment
- recovery and that I can spend time with my family and not go crazy
- that recovery has taught me to have boundaries
- that my dad is alive
- that I am alive
- being able to recognize the different and rewarding relationships I have with people
- a job
- my own apartment (the couch will come when it's ready)
- a president who doesn't make me want to throw things at the tv when he speaks
- a community (Brooklyn) that is conscious and progressive
- the subway
- indoor plumbing
- computers
- Hulu
- writing
- the opportunity to learn about myself and who I am - some people never get it or they don't take it
- the trip I'm taking to Australia to spend Christmas and New Year's somewhere warm
- being single
- cheese
- my friends and the fun things we do like flea markets and brunches and just hanging out doing nothing together and cracking up
- love in life and in me and for me
- chocolate
- trashy books that are fun to read on the subway
- the journey and that I have accepted the challenge to be on it even though it can be scary and painful and so difficult that sometimes it seems like I won't make it through this path in life that forces us to examine ourselves and deal with the past... I am on this train and will hang on for dear life to wherever it takes me

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Needs

Great post from yesterday on the I'm Just F.I.N.E. blog about needs and how as children of alcoholics, we didn't get what we needed on some level. Whether or not we were physically or sexually abused, or neglected, our emotional needs were not met. It's not possible for an addict to meet the emotional needs of his or her children.

What was confusing to me about my family was that until high school, my parents were married and my dad was a successful officer in the Air Force. He was around - we had a big house with a pool and everything seemed so picture perfect. But he was not present. He was there, but not present. He always found odd jobs to do around the house and in the yard so that when he was home, he was always "busy." Either that or he was "relaxing" on the couch drinking and we weren't to bother him either way.

So, we learn to be comfortable not getting our needs met. Not that it's ever really comfortable, but we learn to deal with it in some way. And not getting your needs met isn't healthy, so how can dealing with it be?

Asking for What I Need
from I'm Just F.I.N.E.

Untitled - (at 12 or 13)

Watching hands on the clock move
Isn't my favorite hobby
Wasting time and my hope
Dilluting the life left inside me

Two months and counting
Don't be like my formers
Seems I keep getting locked
and lost in your corners

The path to you winds too
Drastically to follow
Are the feelings that I gave you
Just too thick to swallow?

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Untitled - 11/19/09

i guess it's a talent of mine
knowing what it is people want me to say
and i guess it's just a habit now
once i sense a preference, i have to obey
i can be the one you love
if that's all i have to say
i can be that girl you fuck
like acting cool will make it ok
like forcing an action
could create the feeling
like reading the lines
will provide the meaning
i just need someone
to rub my belly
and scratch my back
read me a story
draw me a bath
cause I'm tired of
figuring out how I feel
so soap me up,
dry me off
and cook me a hot meal

Monday, November 23, 2009

Invocation - 6/1/09

I'm already ready for a better next year
I'm already clearing the way
Hope is a feeling, but not only that
It's what gets me through the day

My Name is Just a Word (written at 12 or 13)

If I had a name
and it was Visigoth
Would you call me Jane
Just to piss me off

If I had a name
Would you call me by it?
Would you still call me girl
I don't doubt it

If I had a name
Tell me what would it be
All titles are the same
Isabella, Priscilla, Harmony

If I had a name
Would you even care
Do I make a difference
I don't make a difference there

If I had a name
It might be Kelly or Joan
But I don't worry of these things
I'll never have a name of my own

Friday, November 20, 2009

Untitled - 11/6/09

i'd just like to say
that i know how you feel
how your mind can take you
where your feet can't
when you're face down
on the ground
it can give you a pillow
for your head
to soften the blow
your brain doesn't even
have to know
just keep marching
through a dreary haze
live in imagined
better days
or crawl out
of your symbiotic ways
i want to speak
but love
doesn't learn
it's a prescribed
self-destructive
girl

Thursday, November 19, 2009

over the years - written 5-18-99 (at 16)

I had forgotten
the blows you dealt me
the blows you dealt me
over the years
it hurts to remember
it numbs to forget
i had forgotten
over the years

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Untitled 11/6/09

Someone broke the door down
and then something rolled in
a ball
or a bomb
a balloon
they'll all pop one day

i'm taking off the layer of clothes
i used to wear for you
undoing the knots and bows
that used to so please you

and the flush on my face
has faded to white
i'm sure you wouldn't know
that my sparkling eyes
have turned quite flat
as has my unearthly glow

i'm a mere shadow of
the woman i was
shivering in the cold
my body is boney
my throat is sore
and let's face it - i'm getting old

i see pain wherever i go
like some some sort of heat censored light
people disagree
when i say what i've seen
but deep down i know that i'm right

it's not the same world
i saw with you
the one i see clearly now
it's dark and broken
with dreams all askew
and bitterly run to the ground

the dust of the hope
i once had for you
settles now on the shelf
and a damp musty scent
of cigarettes and booze
from the days when you haunted
yourself

no it's not the same world
i woke up in
that night when i slept in my bed
and you slept across town
in yours
wondering what it was you had said

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Police Man - writeen 4-19-99 (at 16)

moments
a clock measures the moments
and each one i could hate,
but remember it later and fall
in love with it
each second the clock measures
holds its own colors, smells, textures,
temperature, sounds
that all make up a moment
the clock - the police man
constantly warning, beating
you over the head with its message
I ignore
The moment is passing.
I close my eyes.
This moment never will be again.
I take one last sniff of your
blue sweater
before the second hand kicks me
out the door.
Never will be again.
Moments.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Cold Out 10/26/09

This must be a second coming
you must be the one
won't you take my number?
i'll sing you a song
we can go on our way

i've been braiding a
crown of thorns
just waiting for someone like you
now it's time you tried on
the apparel i've constructed you

i can't even keep up
with the things that need
to be done in a day
i'm afraid i'm exhausted
by just waking up
nevermind
finding
a role to play

i'm sure there's a way
i don't have the will
to try to find something real
if it wasn't so cold out
maybe i'd join you
and maybe you'd see how i feel

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Untitled - Written 2/22/97 (at 14)

the color of rain
is so much like
this life -
a book i never
finished reading
because the wind
kept turning pages,
closing it shut

now i know
your voice will surface
once a day or so
and i'll let sickening
sounds seep into my skin
absorb you
again
while you close
your eyes to me

the color of pain
is the shade of my eyes
(lately)
an undying ache,
eternal agony
keeps me awake
i want to die
for my sake

Friday, November 13, 2009

Untitled 10/29/09

I'm the luckiest girl
who makes the most mistakes
There's someone picking up the pieces
Everytime my heart breaks
Didn't you see it coming
Down the hall
in the air
Didn't you see the truth on my face
When I spat in yours and screamed
I DON'T CARE

You could give me a chance
and give up your name
walk down the block
you'll still feel the same
it's not a path
it's just a hallway
where you thought you were going
brought you back to yesterday

I got dealt a hand
I didn't know how to play
If you remembered playing yours
then we could both be on our way
This isn't my choice
This is just another day
Another way to pass the time
Another time to make your way

I guess you could say
I'm a little bit damaged
And that I'm a bit confused
I'm a little bit of a lot of things
the least of which is amused

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Truth Kills - written 1/27/97 (at 14)

Exhaustion
stubborn limbs
lying in
without a sin
taking out
what i wanted to win
leaving everywhere
i've been

without a thought
or even a mind
i blocked the wind
i blocked your kind
i took off all the
feelings scarring me
slipped out of a
familiar suit
wanted everything
to be
the way it was
without the truth

Untitled 11/10/09

We don't have to talk to know that
You're going this way
And I'm going that way
No it doesn't take much to show
A subtle yawn
Another day

It's been warmer
than the coldest day of the year
I guess that much is true
But that's no reason
to keep living in fear
bracing for another you

The layers of skin fold around you
Protecting you from the air
But don't stop breathing it in
That's your second skin
Still taking care
of you