once again it’s happening.
i saw love disfigure me
The air feels so stiff, like it only serves to create some of kind continental drift. I lick the sugar off my lips and the wounds off my heart. I bite my tongue because all the things I wish I could say, the things I know I need to say, seem surreal and isthisreallymylifenow and I throw things instead. I wallow in the cowardice that is my comfort and lay on those familiar pillows in the late afternoon, making bullshit conversation to distract from the issue at hand. I try not to fold your laundry. I buzz like a cicada for you until you are too close and regret the times that I took a passionate kiss for granted, because now everything is cardboard and tears and the dulled lustre of my expectations by the wayside.
Cholitas Luchadores: Bolivias Female Wrestlers.
The fighting cholitas see themselves as symbols of strength: Their opponents include bigotry and sexism. “My goal,” says one fighter, “is to lift up indigenous women, who have been treated with contempt.”
“We fighters carry within us a kind of fire that nothing can quench.”
all romantic fools have died
It was flooded and I had been thinking of you. There was talk, so much talk, of the things we quietly said we wanted but too much had broken.
It was flooded and the pastor wanted to announce you for an award you had won, you needed to go. It was flooded and you were in my house, helping me out like you always do, helping me recover my things from the torrential downpour. On your way out you asked for access to my email and smirked. I thought it was odd and that you might have lost your mind. I go into my house, a small shotgun apartment. All your shoes are lined up outside the apartment like one would do in a yard sale; the shoes you wore in when we met and the shoes I bought you for Christmas and the shoes that you bought yourself some time that I can’t recall, all in a perfect row. I enter the house and there is a dirty bed and a freshly vacuumed floor. There is a styrofoam mannequin sitting on a chair in shitty downtown lingerie. There are tiny figures on the nightstand, one dark figure coming at the other from behind, the other is face down.
I am only wearing a towel because I had just taken a shower and I needed to get my clothes. I open my drawers and there is none. You threw all my clothes away, every last item, and now I am naked. You cleaned up my house and replaced it with emptiness. Now I am naked looking at perceptions of myself that you so thoughtfully made for me. You cleaned up my house and left me with nothing but sobbing tears. You cleaned up my house and left me with nothing but myself and I never thought you could do that to me, I never thought evilness could exist in you, too; I never thought, I never thought. I wake up in a panicking sweat, and now I can’t sleep because my clothes are here but something scarier, something less tangible, is missing.
you got to lose sometime.
it would have been better if there had been a drawl
Oh, am I good at being wistful and sad. At the risk of sounding like the tired plot of a poorly budgeted movie, this is likely why I must move to a large city- this way I can curl up in my inevitable isolation and fall back in love with myself. I’ve begun to miss my long walks where nobody in the humming city knows me and all I have is my footsteps and crackling leaves. The sticky summers on this coastline have proven to do nothing but knot my tongue and break my heart.
big sur little sur
I can see it, don’t think I can’t. I can see how I let my words flow like hot lava, and how much you hate it. How oppressive the mornings are when neither of us want to understand each other; too much has been said, too much has torn. You can’t mend all tears in fabrics like ours. Not with a destroyer like me. I need a gentle place to sink my teeth in, not your skin. I want a quiet place to be at war with myself because I’ll never hear the end of it from anyone else. I can see you secretly wishing you never took the chance because now all you want is to escape. No worries, dear, I do, too— so much more than anyone knows.
the least that can be said of today
As always, days drop off the calendar like flies and I have less time than is reasonable to get things done. I feel angry for my lack of discipline when it comes to doing what seems to be normal for everyone else. I move like molasses and everyone else is hot oil on a pan, jumping and crackling and moving at the speed of sound.
There is no reset button or way to drag these heavy feet any faster.