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Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Every night a monologue plays in my mind of all the words I would have said if I thought you were listening

Every night I stay up trying to fall asleep to did he get my emails did he read my emails did he see my emails did he delete my emails did he get my emails does he ignore my emails does he read my emails does he see my emails does he delete my emails

Every day I sink in to my reality…this mediocrity…all the things I wish I could be, wish I could be doing…and I think of the things I have done in order to do them…and I think of how many times the path of trying to get to where I wish I was has broken me. Broken me to bits. Bits hanging out the window of the 29th floor looking down, hanging on with one hand to…

Change everything. Changing everything. Phone calls. Flights. Packing packing packing packing packing Get the fuck out. Anywhere. Anywhere. Anywhere but

Here we are again.

It’s a means to an end, right? Every body does this. Right? Every body hates every minute of their existence, every second like a small stab in the throat killing killing killing god just make it end I can’t talk to these people anymore I can’t stay here I can’t do this I can’t

Change everything.

Like a slide show. The flash of a camera. Move home, move out, move back, move on, move in, get dropped get bent out of shape cause the nightmares are a run on sentence that’s spilling in to daylight and the dark doesn’t stop anymore and I don’t remember why I do this why do I do this why do I do this why do I

Change everything?

I can’t stand it in my own skin. And I’m running out of places to go. And I can’t write it on my walls, because I don’t have any. I can’t drive somewhere new, anywhere, anywhere, anywhere but here is where we are. And I start over. And over. And over. Again.

Every night

A monologue

Plays in my mind

But this is

The first time

I have written anything down

In a year

2 View / Post Comments:

Anonymous said...

Cheer up Beee-leeeee

You are loved.

Zimmy said...

i can only think of what you wrote here as a poem & i can only think of responding to it with another poem. i'm going to make one - conjure it up, so i won't know what i'm going to say until i say (write) it.

A very tiny elf walked for days in the desert and came to an oasis.
She took a drink.
There was a camel there.
The camel said, "Hop on my back & I'll take you to the secret cave where the ice dies to be reborn into clouds which feed the flowers."
There was an old beggar by the entrance.
The beggar said: "Give me a penny & I'll tell you something ..."
The tiny elf gave the beggar a penny.
The beggar said:

"The Devil is a scarecrow
And the field is dry as dust.
He stands there through the eaons
Like a brainless pharoh's bust.
And then comes water, bringing flowers
Breathing life into the plain.
And all beseech him of his powers
In reckoning he brought the rain."

The tiny elf went towards the entrance & looked back.
The old beggar was nowhere to be seen.
In the distance, she thought she saw something tottering in the wind.