| 9/18/00 Why do the tears come so easily? I keep telling myself That everything�s gonna be okay. I make it through a few easy nights And a couple days� Then all the sudden, My body shakes with sobs, My face feels hot And my vision blurs. I want to feel as fine As I keep pretending to feel. I want to love my life. I want to roll with the punches, I want to be the person, I always thought I�d become, When I was a child. I thought I�d be interesting, And have a small home, With two lava lamps and a brown couch. I wanted to have many friends Who had lived around the world. Now I see that the couch, And the lamps, and the friends aren�t important. But I still want to be that person� She�s brave and outspoken, She doesn�t care about not fitting in. I don�t mean that she doesn�t Give a fuck. (not like me) She loves herself. I have no feeling for myself. I�m just deliriously numb. I could light a cigarette With the flames in my head. But I don�t want to talk about that, I just want to know Why do the tears come so easily. 10/9/00 Broken strings on this guitar, Reveal the way things really are. From a distance Things seem okay. But you can hear the problems. If you try to play. There�s nothing left to fill in the cracks. I try to pour the mortar, But it keeps hardening in the pail. Black hair makes my skin look pale. I keep losing sleep, Over things lost in the mail. Everyday at noon The shut the little window at the post office. It�s a little to soon To start knocking on the glass. Keep it all inside. Maybe that will make This easier to hide. Play this guitar please. It may sound a little off But if you play it awhile, You might hear things as I do. I would be most impressed If you played me a song, On this three-stringed instrument. Thought it may sound wrong By many people�s standards, I would listen to it And think about, How it relates to me. Empty hallways with muddy footprints, On the floor. Whisper secrets Telling more Than the words themselves could ever convey. I�m still looking for answers Each and every day. |
| 11/22/00 For Kevin Once I met a savior, He wore a sweatshirt, Not a halo. He carried glass in his pockets. He was one of those beings Who did not talk about how You should treat others. Instead he treated each person With respect. He shared cigarettes He gave me coffee. I was nearly lost� I was trapped in a strange place� I normally would have been cautious, But he just did not worry me. He was generous, And almost asexual. I know he did not want To attract me, or strip me. He saved me, I had almost given up. It seems silly that one day Changed my perspective on life. Has anyone else noticed that Flames are shaped like teardrops? My tears once led to flames, But do not anymore. 10/6/00 Looking back I realize, His hands were always cold. His eyes were dead and staring, His stories were all old. I remember trying, To slip out of that grip, He had his hands pressing down, Hard on my hips. I remember, Finally being free, But I was forever tainted, Bruises seemed to cover me. I look to the moon And whisper questions and threats. I still get no answers, And have scared no person yet. I want to tell someone, How he acted towards me. He cannot bear this life, And he blamed it all on me. I saw him the other day� I found it to be strange. He seems to care so little About our promise, since things changed. He felt �harassed.� I said (but only in my head): I�m not here to love you again. I just remembered how, We were supposed to be true friends. I remember how we promised, To listen to each other� In a way I�m glad that he forgot, I can�t relate to him anymore� He is just to twisted� When I left him the letter, He did not speak to me for weeks, And I don�t trust him. So I�ll say this: I hope that in a few years, When he tries, he cannot find me. |