the things that we feel badly about
Invite to private drive, white picket fences and cartwheels in the wet grass. In the sprinkler.
Something like a fairy lagoon. Something with flash photography, something I don’t remember. Falling bridges and we were suddenly sinking. Something irrelevant.
Out of the blue the grown, unfamiliar boy (who always smelt like cigarette smoke) tells his young and innocent sister (corrupted at the age of 15) about a hit and run on the street we stood at.
We were two ignorant girls playing cards in the front yard and then all we saw was blood on the grass, blood on the street.
She felt “grown up” and bored (like her mother, she’s used to the lifestyle), so she went inside and told herself she would stop her games.
At the time she had no idea she had only just begun.
the things that make girls go bad
She’s a belly and a tiny face in her world full of heat.
She grows and grows for men with a proposition no boy could beat.
the things that make our hearts beat faster (like we have a secret)
I’m split, I’m bent and I’m shaking.
I’m finding mementos he left for me on a scarf.
If I breathe deep and I pin up my hair maybe I’ll forget about everything and hold eye contact until I completely split down the middle, and he can pin charms of anchors and sea on my legs and clothes and I’ll never forget what we shared strictly in my mind.
(now don’t tell me that’s not wishful thinking)
the things that we don’t want to ruin by asking too much
In a crowd of trees they disappeared, like that would hide them from what they were really afraid of. Covering their bruises and cuts with old band-aids that we found in the backyard.
There was always a curiosity there and a sense of bravery.
That boy with dark skin and sandy blond hair could convince us of anything, and it was never a problem. We were free. We could do anything but go out on our adventures when his dad wasn’t working that shift.
And even then we held our “secret society” tight and secure. We broke codes and carried black suit cases. We were spies and our head quarters was a cement building directly behind the house.
After rains and months of no visits we’d come back to review our files and we would find them warped and dirty.
Someone once tried to take it away from us. The same man who put out the first-aid kit with the old band-aids. Our ‘Boo Radley’. He gave us a dog who was secretly in training to become a wolf. He gave us a pet bull (that we befriended). He gave us a case, and a childhood.
And my ‘Indie’. Once love was confessed by a playing cards trick.
We climbed trees and we were always afraid we were going to blow up the world with our sparks from our rocks and our shoes.
We hid, and we were dirty.
We ran from the wolves and the snakes (and the dog who pretended and forgot his owner) and we were never afraid of anything else except when our shoes came untied, not even the smell of death.
We dropped the cards on them, to signify how unafraid we really were.
The bravest boy I ever knew.
He asked me what we had in common and I told him a dream and an urge to fall into a twister of dark earth and salt water.
I wanted to sit and jump and he wanted to never leave (something I wasn’t interested in doing).
We shared the same image in our minds, the same idea. He told me about this cliff he imagined above an ocean that didn’t exist and he wanted to look for it with me. Look for a fantasy in a cold, protected by law, reality. I told him we’d never find it, and then I told him that he should look for it on his own.
It was the only thing I missed. I still miss it.
So while he’s out searching for a pretend world, I’m already there and I’m waiting for him (but I still kind of hope he won’t show) and they’re wondering where the fuck my mind is.
the things that have been exaggerated by dreaming too much
If you don’t understand then don’t ask ‘cos I don’t care. It’s bare but it’s beauty. I remember those lights, the trains. Dirty dyed hair and a button up stained shirt. It blows away in the wind. It’s cleansed in the dirt. Drowned out by the clay. The colorful clay, the cries, it screamed. We couldn’t get across the lake to the other side without a boat. We vowed to come back.
We never did, and we were different then, unrecognizable. It was on a spur, we decided it over lunch at Chili’s. We’ll leave them behind us and forget to say goodbye ‘cos it’s not important.
If you can be in two places at once, why waste your time saying goodbye to an old friend? It wasn’t important.
He expected us he counted down the hours, we didn’t care.
They were carrying surf boards in the desert. We laughed and right as we left they said (together) “We really should have said goodbye”.
The clouds were like pink cotton candy, the ocean was a soft light mist. Everything was so shallow. You could see the ground. If you look closely you could spot tiny grey sting rays in puddles. The reflections were electric, they’d hurt you, they’d kill you.
When she told us it was time to go we ignored them as they floated up and
UP with their ignorance and their grace.
They showed us a sense of tranquility, they showed us peace and took it away from us in a hour of playing in our Disney swimsuits, poking at the animals hiding in the sand.
They were drowning and twitching and we thought they were laughing when they were screaming. They drove us off for that.
They always made up for it with security and toys. A room full of toys.
We played the piano like a profession. We thought we were hot shit. Especially when we managed to steal the coffee sugar cubes.
We thought we were invisible.
They watched and pretended not to see us as we snuck behind the counter, grabbed a few and ran back.
We had more friends back then and we made them easily because sex was a foreign word, and schools didn’t even exist. Our place was chosen not decided by someone else, and our neighbors gave us party favors (like ‘pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey’) from the life we were missing out on.
We never cared much when they left.
They started to crumble once we left, they’re broken now.
They showed us that day (those puddles) to keep us clean. To rebuild us in hopes we could one day rebuild them, Selfishly, we left and forgot and those days are long gone.
She’s hidden them in newspaper clippings in a shoe box that has been washed away in the current (but she doesn’t know that I’ve got one) and colors have all gone dull.
We left and their world crumbled down, completely.
the things that inspired us (but we want to forget)
We made scarlet A’s and wore them all day.
It suits me, down to the last stitch.
I’ll have to hide it.
I have to lie and find a secret place because this can’t be seen. It must be killed, and it can’t be seen.
She’s intrigued by a new feeling of want and desire, she aches for fresh prey and hurts her currents. “A hopeless romantic that never settled down” she will be, because the first few months are great, until she gets bored.
Her eyes go dead and the electricity in them fades with each day of settling for less than she wants. She won’t let him touch her when they’re around in honor of a certain song and a definite feeling.
"You never know who you might upset" she excuses her actions, not realising that the absence of affection is the thing that upsets them the most.
He turns the corner,
without a glance her direction…
I used to think it would have been better this way, this was what I wanted. Now I’m seeing that I was just lovesick and lonely and sad and now you’re telling me you could never go back, it’s too far and you’ll never forget. You’re happy this way, a person, You tell me that I made you a person, A FUCKING PERSON.
"Well sorry ‘hon, I’m fickle and I’m bored." He was right about what he said about me. You believed in me and I proved you wrong. Why would anyone do that?
This is how things have always been, this is how they will always be. No escaping it, don’t even bother trying. Give up.
the things that can change your life when you least expect it
You would take us on a dusty road. Top secret metal and migraines, fences and fences of talking through the heat.
Fallen trees and sharing war stories with the other mothers while they nurse their babies. You would take a lunch break to spin under the trees, get sick and fall.
You’d be gone for days and make up for it with tiny Indian dolls, we had forgotten who you were and only asked what you brought us.
We were most interested in the “Little Mermaid” puzzle you gave your princess.
It was always her favorite movie.
Stare with lust, regret, humiliation. Accept your bad choices boy. I was your fish. I was the fish and you know that now under goodbyes and wet lips, ghost stories and lies of experience.
Stare with lust, regret, humiliation and accept that what you see is my ring finger occupied by HIM.
And with a gesture of polish remover, you say you have no time for such insignificant things. Your life’s worries have been multiplied.
the things that can make unimportant events something you remember
I wanted to be there forever.
The wind blowing hard with the salt on my lips. Tastes like you.
I could have stayed there forever, we could live off of winecoolers and camera film. Speeding up, catching every bump, every jolt, every wave. I taste you.
I wanted to stay there forever
dance, royal feet. raise your arms and feel the blood rush down. spin like no ones watching.
My Writing: Never Before Read
I decided to post some old writing/poems from many different times in my life, mostly very old (dating back to 2004!). Everything will be dated by year if it can be. Most of this has never been read before by anyone other than myself. Eek!
I am very attached to these writings since they encapsulate important changes, realizations, and hardships throughout my life. Because of this (and my love for the lack of structure and rules in free verse poetry), I might be somewhat blind to their obvious flaws. Take them all with a grain of salt please. ♥