exhale

Movement and the big exhale.
Half painted red nails,
the smell of something more expensive than acetone,
and severe pain in groin,

just fucking let go.

And hush.

listen.

There is silence, it's maddening and oh so loud,
if you keep checking your email maybe the Messiah will come.

it has before,
and this time it said,

We want YOU.

Breath and light,
sun and sand,
but I won't go to places I'm not needed.

She said she would sleep in her car tonight, she had no place to go,

and all my joy bursts and crashes.

When one is not cared for, none can be.

Yet,
yet,
yet,
this is my day,
my celebration,
my hell yes, I really do deserve all the honor and respect.
The you can trust me, I know what I am doing!

The oh my goodness the one thing I wanted that I didn't even know I wanted, I got!

Now it's time for the leather jacket and cashmere onsie.

I live and breathe with desires,
and in this exhale,
I don't know where to go.

So stay,
play panda pop,
colors match and explode and this is all there is to life,
sometimes you run out of bubbles,

sometimes you get given the wrong color, and all you can do is aim and try.

And when it hits,
when the level is complete you say, I did it! I did it! I did it!
but then another challenge comes, and another, and another,

and,
wow,
it's tiring to keep waiting for something,

and then when it shows up you sometimes wonder why you waited.

And other times you just know it's so perfect that the yes has always been there and all you can do is keep breathing, laughing, and make a little mischief in your down time!

a hot fridge

Memories with you taste like crusty old bread and our refrigerator stopped working,
so everything including you is moldy and sitting in black trash bags on my street corner.

It's not a singular you,
since you and you and you are just you's now.

This is something I am trying to understand,
and I have a MINE now,
but you's come and go so deliciously
and someday we all get stale,

even me.

You see,
I have no control.

Everyone that whispers, sings or screams in our lives is a blessing,
sent from above,
below,
wherever.

Some use words, some use touch, some eye gaze and others silence to tell you they love you. 

But they all love you.

YOU.
you,
you?

He asked, "have you said the words yet?"

I cried.

inside.

I laughed.

outloud.

and then I told You, and we laughed together,
sometimes you can know so clearly and still have no idea which way the road turns,
and it's pretty fucking awesome to just ride, and straight, for a long full while.

YES.

So when the bread turns to croutons,
and the salad is wilted,
and the dressing is warm,

we go to grab donuts,
but you see me from behind the counter, eye's linger,
and I see you miss me,
but there is no time for wondering or sorry's.

I have become the most solid, beautiful, full, loving being I have been yet in my life
and all the you's have aided me in this new me.

you
me
you
me
No


ME
ME
ME
Yes
hell yes
ME.

This not poetry, it's saturated outlines, metaphorical statements,
not for your intentional perusing,
but so that I can go out now, and be fully embodied within.

I am here,
me,
not you,
not you,
me.

hello sweet, sticky bourbon caramel sea salt donut!

I got sugar high,
then crashed,
but this seems to be life.

High up flying now,
you say you are sick,
and all I want to do is hug you and feed you soup.

But I am getting myself a job, a full on big girl pants job,
and I am focusing on this body, love. love. love,

and if you asked me if I said the words,
I would say,

look at my eyes,
I say them everyday, every second with every breath.

 

Ancient tales of flower ritual

''I'll have to fall asleep with roses in my hair,'' she said.

The evening Jasmine didn't bloom as she had hoped,
it was withered and smelled less like
semen,
which always aroused her

curiosity-

but this time,
the garden roses would have to suffice.

So she lay in her bed,
pink petals strewn atop her auburn curls -

but the sickly sweetness of over-blossomed roses did nothing to calm.
She tossed and turned,
since the weight of her lover was in a distant land -
drinking bourbon by fireside and communing with
the beings from beyond.

But the restlessness wasn't about his body, it was in deep correlation to her own.

"How can I ever release?" She wondered.

She found her answer in the flower's eye, the water beads still holding moisture in the thick soft bristles of it's inner womb.

"I must do this myself!"

So she grabbed a bloom from the silver carafe on her bedside table and started to stroke herself slowly until light moans oozed from her delicate lips.

She fantasized of warm dripping oil - waterfall gasps - and her lovers deep laugh echoing inside of her.

Pleasure.

Fully in the moment - in full deep breaths - 

Moaning and laughing

as is the only way.

The co-mingling of sounds sent sparks to places she has never felt before
and
then
as if infinity unleashed all the tightness,
the pomegranate burst from within herself.

The stars danced-
her hands loosened -
dropped,
heavy.

finally.

Legs didn't feel like legs, nor rocky feet.

newness - softness, something so grande.

As body melted into pillow she sang sweet songs of gratitude and gazelles


and he kissed her soul across the sea,
honoring all of herself, her strength, her delight
and her really pretty face.

soul dance

"Come to the Orchard," you whispered,

so I went outside, circled the lake twice, ignited my spark, talked incessantly to myself, since change is in motion, and the sun feels it too.

Today I danced barefoot on the beach.
The waves roared,
my body ached,
step after step,
leap after leap,
circling,
singing,
chanting,
loving
the only way I know how.

Hugely.

The sun coated my skin as I lay half-awake on the blanket we got from the Arab Quarter.
Bright, matte, light-filled blue filled my eyes whenever I dared open then from my waking dreams.

I know what I want.

I want to soul dance, and be grateful.
I want to give all I have, and be an open vessel for all your love.

The timing is perfect, I have cleansed 'all' wounds.

They say, "Kaper" is to, "cover over," the magical skin reformation on a deep bloody cut,
and this is this day, alive and here.

I look at my skin,
there is a thorn stuck in my finger,
it's been there for a week.

I could pull it out, but I say, you know what, it just isn't so bad.

Stated.
here.

But I held counsel with my deviant part within,
the one that says she wants to protect, but in truth she shuts me in closets, locks the door and says, HAH!

I hugged her.
I told her she was beautiful.

And then I asked her to leave.
She left, but she did not want to,

she was sticky and left goo all over me, and she almost knocked the door over banging it so hard trying to be let back in.

NO.

These are boundaries and they work within as well.

I said, I don't need your protection now, I am so grateful for all you have held, and I can take it from here, since I'd much rather take care of myself how I know best than sit in muted silence with the TV blasting, chips and dips in my hand, and a lazy eye gazing over at the iphone screen.

NO.

Delight in this newness, and I can have anything I want.

The life that I want is here for the taking,
the life I don't want, does not need to be my narrative anymore.

I am here.
I am here.
I am joyously here.

And it takes hard work, dedication, and honest love for the divinity within,
but my body doesn't want to ache anymore,
and this time I'll listen.

x


 

five seven seven seven

eyes shutter, body quakes,

he twitches his whole body once -

but mine is twitching all day long.

There is that motion being set - and my body is stretching so thin from passiveness + stillness.

Come, to source, it whispers always, but I cannot go, when there is so much unknown -
and I never was scared of unknowns,
but in this too familiar room,

they eat me whole.

I turn on the bright light tv to soothe -
it makes me cry -
I do not want to have tears in my eyes every time I see the sun -

And yet the sun makes me tear for far too many reasons to explain here,
and I know this too.

Chocolate milk coats my tongue,
I do better now with communicating truths,
but fear is fear and I am fearful of the fear and the intense knowing that the fear would just dissolve if only I allowed it too-

ah.

The typing really does do wonders, and today I said, maybe I need to care more, but then I said,
I say that every day,
and I stayed inside -
ate a lot -
and stared aimlessly hoping the numbing would come -

it didn't.

My body is impervious to numbing,
unless you needle my gums.

shit.

It's like I had found it and then let go all too quickly to even know what was in my hand -
it could have been a butterfly or a beetle or a poisonous rat.

I saw a butterfly hatch in my hand once from a golden cocoon.
I thought it was magic -
the turner of days making my eyes dance

but no, it happened.

we cried together as I said I was scared and then the butterfly was born and even those orange and black wings couldn't save me from my sadness,

nor could you.

I sometimes think about your long hair, the way you massaged me gently, read me poetry and made me tea. When I think about you now I do not cry. I do not shake. I do not have fire rise up inside me wanting to gnaw you to the bone for all the pain I felt with you.

Now I just feel calm.
I feel gratitude.
I feel serenity.

I feel myself loving myself more than ever,
even when I feel like loving myself is the hardest thing to do.

This story is over.
I choose to quit it, to say, that is not my narrative at this current moment.

I say No to excuses of healing or the 'I am still bleeding from the internal wounds'.

Time has mended, and I must move on.

And I have a silky skinned man to cuddle up with now.
He is different, he smiles so brightly with his crooked teeth, the ones he popped back in after he crashed his head into the cement.

He eats chicken nuggets and coffee,
coffee and whiskey,
whiskey and bourban

and he smells so nice.


We laugh a lot together, and that was the goal.

I said, I want you, once I saw his face,
I always know when they intrigue me,

and I always know who holds my medicine.

He gives it to me subtly, in ways I may never understand,
It's sweet though,
it's full of ease,
and there is no manipulation.

I fear, but of course,
intimacy.

Since I look back on pictures and our smiles could have fooled everyone,
and they did.

You tried to mend something that was un-mendable and it was too late.

Finally you took me out,
finally you noticed,
but my stomach was screaming with every word you spoke,

and this is the truth about relationships,

They skin all flesh and bone.

They begin and they end so easily.

I try to focus on the now, but the end is searing my mind,
the when, the how, the who, the why.

And that stops me from releasing,
stops me from texting you when I want to,
stops me from giggling out how much love I hold inside for you.

five
seven
seven
seven

code, and all the numbers, but this is truly the only way to know.

present-ness.
now.

action.

be.

leave the place of comfort,
to be far greater than you ever knew possible.

I will find a home,
I will find a job,
I will find my fire within
again,

and it has nothing to do with the men in my life,
So I rambled on for nothing,
but I see it as mirrors,
and they mirror to me my insecurities,
and my beauties,
my losses and my gains.

I sit in bed curled up most days since it is comfortable,
and I admit it,
only to those I fully trust
and to you,

since the opening is the only way to leave,
to say, no,
not today.
today I want sunshine,
today I want movement,
today I want laughter with friends,
and a home that is my own.

This is the mantra,
the magic,
the must.

I hold my hand open and who knows what I catch next,
but I will hold it gently,
I will love it,
I will take care of it,

as YOU take care of me.