Pt. I (The Latest) Hard Things

Okay, so what really frustrates me is that because neither of them can relate to me completely, they'll totally misread anything I do. Anything I did. And I want to punch them. In the face. Until they're not alive anymore. I loathe the way they'll fondle their damn egos with the thought that I even care like that.

That is the most frustrating thing. A misinterpretation of sincerity into some grotesque parody of my intentions.

Oh well, if anything, they deserve each other. The more I've gotten to know them, the more I've realized that they don't have friends, they have toys. People are good, as long as they're usable. Once they don't know what to do with you anymore, you're made to walk the figurative plank at knifepoint.

It's all just....so painfully funny. Watching them insist time and time again that real, genuine feelings matter sooooo much, and they turn around and EVERYTHING they do screams the opposite.

It's disgusting to me, to watch these things, these people, these one-time friends dissolve themselves into something so shallow. However, it's a morbidly fascinating kind of disgusting...to watch them using each other. Because that's what it is. That's all it will be. Is it wrong to hope he knocks her up so they both get a faceful of reality? Because I do. In the maliciousness of my occasionally angry constantly-broken heart.

They like each other because they're dangerous, that's all. Eventually their interactions will dissolve into resentment and loathing, and I will sit quietly in the dark and resent the fact that I'm usually right and never listened to.

She's like fire. Like a raging prairie fire, and I am one of the many things she's burned. And just like fire, it's her everyone rushes to, to control, to put out. And I am left behind. I feel so...tossed aside. Even my friends, my real friends, my BEST girlfriend - has spent more time at her side than mine in all of this. Supporting her. And...I resent it. It breaks my heart. I can't stop crying about it.

Said best friend dragged me to lunch with her today, and suprise-surprise, Su and Dan are there too. I hate the way they all act like nothing has happened. Like my feelings, because I don't like to make them so readily available appearance-wise, must not mean anything. That because Chelsea always has to joke about everything, if we joke about all of it, then we can have a good laugh while she's bleeding to death under the table.

In all of it, I think I resent Dan the most, but I'm taking out my frustration on Su, because she's the one who weasels her way into every relationship, every friendship, every interaction between people. I hate Dan for the way every girl is the same to him. I hate him for making me feel so easily replaced. I feel cheap. I feel, betrayed. I feel so unspeakably mad at myself for the way I was suckered into thinking all his schmoozy talk actually meant something at the end of the day. That his fluffy ideals actually played some small part in his actions and real life. I hate the way I finally trusted someone, and he took the opening (the state of willing open-ness that he had no IDEA how long it took me to achieve) I gave him, and flayed me alive with it.

Can I explain? I have no words for this hurting. I have watched unanaesthatized as my worst fear was gouged into me. Cut me to pieces. To finally give all of me, just me, completely open and honest to someone who I was sure, was SURE would appreciate it. Who would love me as a friend, and finally understand. But he didn't. Doesn't. And I have been so wrong.

It's not that I love him - I don't. Not like that. Not the way that everyone is assuming I do. That somehow I feel so upset because Su has "stolen" him away from me. It's not that at all. I resent Su because she was how Dan proved to me that he was nothing I thought he was. That neither of them were the friends I thought they were.

The hard thing is knowing and caring more than they do. Is knowing that for all of my love, support, understanding, and genuine concern, I get the teaspoonful, while gallon after gallon is poured out on the people who don't know it enough to appreciate what it is. What they have. It's a lack of desire for understanding, that makes me break so completely the relationship in my hands. I was willing to be there for you, but you will not use me.
This is the only thing I require.

"Tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it." - Anne

The hardest part is trying to find the courage, the faith, to pick up each re-shattered piece and begin again.


Pt. II SPF

awake

in the stillness
i can hear your breathing
secure, unrestricted
devotedly you.

i myself, can't sleep so i
am listening to jeff buckley
singing: if you knew
how i missed you, you
would not stay away,
away...

awake.
awake, awake.
a wake of memory
is where i winter now;

in the quiet, without
you and with you.
but you weren't here for then.

you can't see the charred
pain tied to these -
each, eerie similarities,
moments.

i try so delicate hard
to untangle you from the
barbed wire he grew here.

if you knew
how i loved you, you
would not understand.

if you knew
how easy i love you, you
would know
how hard i have to forget.

________________


love, new
love, love
again

is tangled hair
meeting old brush;

painful working.

the notes of laughter
hang fragile
in the air you don't breathe.

i break
in the same moment
i slide

ever closer to
the promise -

or draw -

of that portion
of your Eden.



Pt. IV Nova's Heart

Supernovas and white dwarf implosions...
This past week was weird. The weekend was hard. My good friend at an old poetry site who I've known for like, 4-5 years, her baby boy, Nova (Donovan), died Thursday (April 6) afternoon.

It was hard, in a way I didn't expect it to be. I hadn't been at the site for about 6 months, and wasn't really up to date on what was going on with everyone, and suddenly I'm back there and first thing I hear is that Erin's baby's really, really sick. It broke my heart.

He was 4 months old and 4 days old...and in the most theoretically improbable way, he touched countless lives. It's times like this when I feel very ungrateful, that I resent myself for taking for granted so often the amazing calm, comfort, and reassurance that I get from my faith. I can't imagine the pain, the aching, the impossible grief that would swallow me whole if I lost a child without the security of my knowledge that I'd see them again. My heart it breaking for Erin and her family.

And yet, even in their loss, I am amazed at her strength. At her calm...Erin has always been one of my favorite people. One of my poetic heroes.

Sometimes God likes to remind us that our own problems are trivial, and that life - any life - has a reach, and a power, beyond our understanding.


white dwarf implosion and the supernova

can you feel
the rings of saturn
on your fingers?

the impositious reaching
of a life
built from strung-together
nebulae.

stars hang
in a spring's bleeding
veils.

the coronal aura of
your very existence.

in that family's universe
you were integral,

you were a world.

in a sunset's
dying blush,

we feel the warm breath
of your dissolving
on our skin.


"Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our greatest fear is that we are powerful beyond comprehension." - Nelson Mandela

More musings on the Supernova...

In passing,
nightlight thoughts
transpire...

on wind your
every breath -
like fire -

scourge the mundane
from my veins

i let small things
again
take the reins.




naked, the peeling
of each new day
vies for attention
across the emptiness.




soft breath, little brother,
where are you
on the wind that brings you
so white and luminescent
to Him.




a delicate unbalancing,
whips of why still burn their sting
across the lips of hope mid-song -
its cast-off heartbeat rhythm strong.
each muse relatable, and praised.
new growth sprung in fields late-razed.




Pt. V The Poems about Myself


symbionic

tentacled heart-anenome
starved to gather endlessly
grope at all the swim-by *WiSh*es
sleep - still empty - with fishes.


Abysmalion...

razor edge
of petal

bloomed:
so incomplete,
so unassumed.

deeper gouge
the silent yearning;

whispers whither
it with burning.

fire stoked
of dying embers;

how easy - quick -
the heart remembers

a lash of silver,
glint of flame,

to kill the thing
behind the name.


Rewound

misaddled
entropy,
and the sting
of each word
spoke softer;

many are
those silences
left unsaid.

rewound:
to where i
wrap
up the starting
again.

the early week
of my second life,
i found a niche
refillable.

i had never seen
one of those
before.

green-ivied
grew the door
away from this.

too late,
i was. behind:
the only thing,
these small hands.

i lived:
a place where
i was young,
and each new
unsaid silence

fell like gnats
into the buzzing
of my heavy-
lidded ear.

what me-
andered exploits
you spread
across my skinning,

something held
my box-puppy heart
from slipping
to its pre-assembled
state.

obstinants
would not let me
see whatever
did
that cradling.




Pt VI. Conclusion

I currently resent all toilet paper in public restrooms. I've been spoiled by the plushness of Charmin™.




Pt. VII Favorite Random Poem that Currently Means Something To Me

the red wheelbarrow
by william carlos williams

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.





-=The La End=-