A Curtain From the World

curtaincall
“Curtain Call” belongs to Christine H. on Flickr.com. Some rights reserved.

In this strange, confusing existence I call my life,
my own thoughts are foreign and hide behind enemy lines
mocking me with false grenades and guns without bullets.
They do not want their true nature to be discovered.

To be identified:
abnormal and incomplete.
Missing something vital,
something too fundamental to be detected.

To be wrong.
Wrong like a body decaying in public drinking water or
a murder discovered during a family reunion or
laughter at a funeral.

My own thoughts are strangers
I take out to lunch dressed up like Abercrombie and Fitch models
but my best attempts fail to satisfy the public eye
instead my thoughts appear as repulsively dressed clowns
tastelessly splattered with neon polka dots on black fabric.

Conversation ceases.
The awkward silence slithers from the concrete
up past my shoe and sock into the leg of my shorts.
The silence makes its way under my shirt
leaving a trail of hot sweat along my back.

“Waiter! Waiter! Check, please?”
I want to leave, escape over the hills.
I want to find myself buried underneath the sand of California’s Death Valley National Park.
I leave the restaurant before anyone selects me off the menu
before they eat me for lunch.

They say I am cold, colder than the Arctic Ocean.
They say I am mean. There is something off about me.

I know that there is kindness pulsing like blood in our veins and arteries
traveling through our hearts and bodies.
Is it too late for me to understand what I am missing?
Everyone sits down to eat lunch in their dollhouse world,
but I can’t seem to find my seat.

I wonder if it’s obvious,
if I appear normal.

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My Idea of You

snowbusStop
“bus stop, 147 Outer Drive Express & 151 Sheridan” belongs to renee_mcgurk on Flickr.com. Some rights reserved.

Some nights I stay up late
repairing the trembling walls
brick by weary brick
I hold tight to the idea of you
anchoring me, keeping me strong
as the dusty chambers of my heart have shaky walls
in this quaking body of mine

You walk on my steppingstone spine
ground your heels in
I look up to meet your eyes
drinking in your perfection

I taste the joy your love gives me on the tip of my tongue
burning through my core
traveling through my blood stream
zipping through my neurons
you embed yourself in my mind
you are the shadow of my words, my actions, my thoughts

You tell me, “Wherever you go, I will always be here for you.”

When all this is over
my memory of you will always be sweeter than you
ever were

I stumble onto an unfamiliar street
wrapping itself around unfriendly businesses
winding through mile after mile of paper mache homes
you reach out to give me your hand
but you have the midnight skies in your eyes
in the darkness I am lost
I can’t find my way
without the light of streetlamps to guide me back home

Without you around
the world feels somehow different
life has been drained of color
the wood of the table is not made of solid matter
and can barely hold a stack of heavy textbooks
a stranger’s kind words sound forced and random
the air itself wrong like expired milk
the bitter chunks slowly moving down the back of my mouth

With you around
I feel like I can burst
explode, splinter, shatter into confetti debris
an eight-year-old’s first piñata and his last hit
a firecracker going off in the dead of night
you set my paper heart on fire
I say, light me up
let me burn

After the last time you raised your voice
I traced the fault lines in my heart
even then I told myself
you are my lighthouse
you guide me home

I am running out of reasons to stay
but I cannot quit you
you’ve got the Devil flowing through your veins
I’m a sinner giving in to my pain

Even now I remember the sweet melody of your voice
humming to me, singing:
“Do you remember December?
Cold nights, colder weather
wondering if we would end up together?”

At night when we sleep
our souls go on a joyride together
while our bodies
in separate houses, on different streets
slumber on

Sorry Girl

passing
“passing…” belongs to Alex Naanou on Flickr.com. Some rights reserved.

I am a sorry girl
stuck between all that could be and my regrets
caught between the commas in a run-on sentence
spotted staring at passerby on the sidewalk from a window on the first floor
a sorry kind of girl

a apologize too soon
laugh a little too hard
kind of girl

I am a silly kind of girl
a do it without thinking
apologize later
kind of girl

a too-easily embarrassed
wondering if I should be embarrassed
if I’m supposed to be embarrassed
if I should act embarrassed
kind of girl

I am a sorry girl
a sorry I couldn’t get it done
sorry I tried
sorry I didn’t
a sorry I wish I wasn’t so helpless
kind of girl

a sorry girl
“wish I wasn’t so helpless!”
“wish I could’ve thought of that!”
“wish I could’ve done that!”
kind of girl

but “Sorry.”
doesn’t fix anything
except offer a brief moment of realization
a brief moment of reflection
because I realize
because I know
I kind of am
a sorry kind of girl

Nowhere Boy

alt text
“Sunrise on Ocean” belongs to Image Catalog on Flickr.com. This image falls under Public Domain.

Nowhere Boy

with your somber gaze and heartbreaking ways

I shall always cherish the time we had

the days, the hours, the minutes

will someday only be a mere second in the memory of the life I’ve lived

you tell me that by dawn you will be gone

far away from this beach where we stand

that I shall not find you here nor there nor anywhere

 

On this shore

the early morning darkness cannot hide the uncertainty

that shines on my face, a beacon of hope

a lighthouse of my own design

guiding my soon-to-be shipwrecked heart into rocks

on unfamiliar shores in the middle of nowhere

 

You warn me not to follow you

that I will not be able to find you

that I will only get lost on the way

cursing the day we met and

regretting the time we spent together in Neverland

believing in an immortal forever that never truly existed

that I will only break my own heart

shattering my once beautiful ship carrying a cargo

of aching love and dizzy lust and impractical dreams

against the edge of time and certainty

No Man’s Land where only the old, lost, and confused wander

shipwrecked strangers who have no compass to guide them home

and have lost themselves in the war against Old Age

 

Not even immortality and eternal youth can bring you back

back to me, back to this moment in time

where you and I were Oh-So-Perfect in each other’s eyes

 

Nothing will persuade you to come back to this dawn on this shore

between fantasy and reality where the waters of my imagination

threaten to sweep away my crumbling sense of reality

I stand soaked to the bone, numb from the cold

as the grains of reality cling to the bottoms of my feet

before being dragged into the ocean of incredible creatures

and here there be not only monsters but demons

creations of my own that I can no longer prevent from consuming me

 

Me in my own madness

my disastrous search for you

a boy who I have only ever met in this moment on this shore

Stop! Stop me! Stop me from doing this

 

I should know nothing will convince you to come back to me

for you are Nowhere Boy

and I am just

an ordinary girl

 

To the Greek God of Sleep, Hypnos

Sleeping after an hard night Image Belongs to Pedro Ribeiro Simões. Image: “Sleeping after an hard night”. Some Rights Reserved.

I see you, walking on the clouds.
Tell me of a time absent of hurt and words meant to cause pain.
Or better yet, confuse me.
Tell me that I am still dreaming
that I have never been awake before,
that my eyes have never truly glimpsed the world outside of my dreams.
Tell me that I am not alive,
just previewing experiences belonging to another.

O, God of sleep, give me slumber from which I will never leave.
Remind me of a time where innocence reigned
and dread and anxiety were nothing but puffs of smoke
from Grandfather’s pipe.
I yearn to one day touch your hand,
grasp your fingers,
and walk with you.

Lead me across the horizon to the bittersweet end of this world,
where I will go with you willingly.
Hire me to happily paint clouds sunrise-golden or sunset-magenta with you.
Take me away from here.
Deceive me.
Tell me that my existence was nothing but a lie after all.

Delusional

I was waiting for a train in Grand Cupid Station

When I spotted your profile

You swept the platform right out from under my feet

Gave me no choice but to fall head over heels

 

The clock ticks too close to the hour

I missed my ride home

The clock strikes and I can hear my heartbeat

Reverberating off the cold, distant planets

I wonder if you can hear it

Echoing off of your physique

 

You swept me off my feet

I felt the floor vibrating underneath me

As the train passed me by

“Wait, stop!” I’m still here.

 

All this time we have been waiting

To catch the train but in reality

Our eyes were looking skyward

For the stars to notice us

 

Oh blinking star

Have the skies known all along?

All this time we were waiting for each other

When the crowd subsides I look for you

I see your profile again this time

But you’re in the window of the passing train

Your companion touches your collar

You smile

 

I guess the moon and stars might stray from each other

The passing train drowns my cries

You turn your head and meet my eyes

Could this be a sign?

All this time I was waiting for you and me