I asked, thinking I would get a different answer.
Different from all the others.
Thinking this time it was different.
I’m not one much for asking… or taking… especially when it’s the only thing I need.
In all honesty it was more like a wish.
The one thing I could only ask for, and give entirely in return.
For, I’ve never been one to hold on to much I could see, but feel. Measurements have never been my forte.
Increments don’t descend into inches in this vacuum, but more like miles stretched within an infinite space.
My placeholders are transparent, my gifts intangible.
It’s the only thing I know how to give:
my return to sender.
I wonder what this means?
Maybe it’s not something that’s meant to be given away.
Maybe it’s something meant to be shared in glimpses.
Bits and pieces,
but never an entire
whole.
Maybe it’s never been mine to share,
whether that be out of self-preservation,
or selfishness,
or because no one could ever truly give such a gift
and actually receive an equal return.
Maybe it’s time to give up that foolish notion…
time to finally bury my trinkets and placeholders…
time grow up a little more.
Burn the letters.
Better that than the alternative.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
leftovers
the whispers
once pervasive clamors, dwindled into murmurs and muffled moans.
in bed, lingered the smell of leftover lust, soiled rain, and the indentations of bodies in motion.
now at rest.
the slowing down of hands, and limbs, and minds made her realize that things were not dead,
not in that moment,
not just yet.
and in his momentary gaze she thought she saw a connection.
felt a flicker.
only to penetrate deeper and find that all too familiar reflection.
a reflection that carried not the weight of two, but the emptiness of one.
and in that instant she realized that the weight was not one of depth.
not the depth of love.
not the kind of love that she could lend into.
the kind of depth that could steady her heart faster than any hand to break the fall from such heights.
he was in no position to make her fall into places of complete lust, or loss, or vulnerability,
because he was unwilling to give that of himself.
and in that overwhelming feeling of isolation she seized. ceased into her all familiar gaze.
empty. unfulfilled.
turned her heart into a slight slant
grinned to rebound the ache of another self-fulfilling affliction.
kissed him and went about her day.
once pervasive clamors, dwindled into murmurs and muffled moans.
in bed, lingered the smell of leftover lust, soiled rain, and the indentations of bodies in motion.
now at rest.
the slowing down of hands, and limbs, and minds made her realize that things were not dead,
not in that moment,
not just yet.
and in his momentary gaze she thought she saw a connection.
felt a flicker.
only to penetrate deeper and find that all too familiar reflection.
a reflection that carried not the weight of two, but the emptiness of one.
and in that instant she realized that the weight was not one of depth.
not the depth of love.
not the kind of love that she could lend into.
the kind of depth that could steady her heart faster than any hand to break the fall from such heights.
he was in no position to make her fall into places of complete lust, or loss, or vulnerability,
because he was unwilling to give that of himself.
and in that overwhelming feeling of isolation she seized. ceased into her all familiar gaze.
empty. unfulfilled.
turned her heart into a slight slant
grinned to rebound the ache of another self-fulfilling affliction.
kissed him and went about her day.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
the reminder
it hurts to hear the ache.
not the ache in whats gone,
but the longing in wanting.
wanting to be that,
that warmth.
that solace.
that good.
to be the space
between
the keys that ring,
as each melody silently
cries for
more.
the letter in each
word
begging for a promise,
in his prose,
in his poems,
in his promises.
sacred and unfilfilled
are these secrets
never to be
shared with
me.
for other ears
to other pasts
and other girls.
but alas, i will never be these things.
and yet, i can still feel that ache.
and know
that though such odes
don't belong to those like
me
i can still hope
that one day they will.
not the ache in whats gone,
but the longing in wanting.
wanting to be that,
that warmth.
that solace.
that good.
to be the space
between
the keys that ring,
as each melody silently
cries for
more.
the letter in each
word
begging for a promise,
in his prose,
in his poems,
in his promises.
sacred and unfilfilled
are these secrets
never to be
shared with
me.
for other ears
to other pasts
and other girls.
but alas, i will never be these things.
and yet, i can still feel that ache.
and know
that though such odes
don't belong to those like
me
i can still hope
that one day they will.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Maybe Not
as she sat there reading, it suddenly dawned on her. like a ray of overwhelming light to the unwelcoming eye. she would never be the protagonist in this story. the heroine in his storybook. the recipient neglecting a return to sender.
for many reasons she was still unsure of why.
maybe she wasn't broken enough. maybe she gave in too much, give parts of herself up too soon.
the push and pull made the inconsequential matter more than she wanted to admit… and in that moment she understood that the same hurt he experienced from others, was the same thing he was doing to her.
and in that she realized he was right. she really didn’t know this other person. couldn’t know someone unwilling to open up the torn pages that rendered his broken heart, or hers for that matter.
and maybe that thought made her reconsider, consider whether this was worth investing… effort, emotion, her heart into? maybe he would never share those parts of his past. maybe (for him), that was the past, and as far as he was concerned, not worth knowing. but maybe (for her) it was. maybe for as much as he gave, she would always know that he was just like the others, always hiding, afraid to give in, give it all… Let Go.
and no matter how much she cared for him, that realization would play like an afterthought…. of something missing… always lingering in the furthest most regions of her limbic system, like innate notion of a frown, always there, but never here.
for many reasons she was still unsure of why.
maybe she wasn't broken enough. maybe she gave in too much, give parts of herself up too soon.
the push and pull made the inconsequential matter more than she wanted to admit… and in that moment she understood that the same hurt he experienced from others, was the same thing he was doing to her.
and in that she realized he was right. she really didn’t know this other person. couldn’t know someone unwilling to open up the torn pages that rendered his broken heart, or hers for that matter.
and maybe that thought made her reconsider, consider whether this was worth investing… effort, emotion, her heart into? maybe he would never share those parts of his past. maybe (for him), that was the past, and as far as he was concerned, not worth knowing. but maybe (for her) it was. maybe for as much as he gave, she would always know that he was just like the others, always hiding, afraid to give in, give it all… Let Go.
and no matter how much she cared for him, that realization would play like an afterthought…. of something missing… always lingering in the furthest most regions of her limbic system, like innate notion of a frown, always there, but never here.
Friday, January 9, 2009
a clearing
today i walked along a path,
and found a broken home.
foundations once filled with sterling
now rotted from the outside in.
it's silver bricks once layed carefully
now displaced upon the floor.
grasping walls in my inability to feel the ground,
i lightly tread upon the surface, if only to avoid the cracks.
two hands decipher the lettering
hands distangling carvings of promises now eaten away by time.
my hesitation to walk any further leads me into questions, and more questions into more thoughts.
where did it all go?
why did it really end?
or is there more i just can't see?
i step away from the clearing
back into time
harboring speculations much heavier than when i began,
dragging the guilt of unknown loss behind me.
and yet, my steps guide me somewhere dark.
moving further away from my thoughts
away from the weight
as if each sound takes me further into suspension.
into stillness.
closer to the safety of shelter.
and found a broken home.
foundations once filled with sterling
now rotted from the outside in.
it's silver bricks once layed carefully
now displaced upon the floor.
grasping walls in my inability to feel the ground,
i lightly tread upon the surface, if only to avoid the cracks.
two hands decipher the lettering
hands distangling carvings of promises now eaten away by time.
my hesitation to walk any further leads me into questions, and more questions into more thoughts.
where did it all go?
why did it really end?
or is there more i just can't see?
i step away from the clearing
back into time
harboring speculations much heavier than when i began,
dragging the guilt of unknown loss behind me.
and yet, my steps guide me somewhere dark.
moving further away from my thoughts
away from the weight
as if each sound takes me further into suspension.
into stillness.
closer to the safety of shelter.
Monday, December 8, 2008
My So-Called Life and Thoughts on So-Called Friends.
So over the last week or so I have been having a reoccurring discussion about the notion of friendship. What it means to be someone's friend, how to give and receive it. And lately, this analysis has made me reevaluate that notion. I had a conversation the other day with someone who made me realize that choosing sides not only doesn't make you a friend, it devalues the integrity of what's been built, especially if you cannot be honest.
When relationships are built on conditions and stipulations, words and the trust built over time count for nothing. Even when one has to pick sides, it's up to those individuals to be up front in honest. Cause at the end of the day, if they were in my shoes I don't know if they would be as tolerant if someone they cared and respected were behaving the same way.
I hear people talking about how it's difficult to find and cultivate relationships in LA… and I know for a fact that isn't entirely true. It takes two people to build, just like it takes two individuals to brake down a relationship. If one is unable to deepen ties or find people to share their lives with at the end of the day, one must stop looking at the sequential events unfolding and realign oneself in the mirror.
I have lost many people throughout my life, and not entirely of my own volition. They, made a decision to keep me at arms length, be dishonest, hide certain things and convey themselves in an disingenuous way. Though I cannot abdicate myself from my own part in the deterioration of past relationships… I have paid many dues. Nevertheless, I have a tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt, to a fault
But I can think of many times where I have stuck my neck out for some of these people, … and thinking about it in retrospect, I know now they would have never done the same. And that realization is ok.
This understanding enables me to establish a different place those people in my life, forgive them for their slights… and remind myself never be so selfish as to behave in a way that knowingly devalues the integrity of my relationship with someone I truly care for.
And if someone chooses to cut themselves out of my life, it is a loss I will not lose sleep over….
When relationships are built on conditions and stipulations, words and the trust built over time count for nothing. Even when one has to pick sides, it's up to those individuals to be up front in honest. Cause at the end of the day, if they were in my shoes I don't know if they would be as tolerant if someone they cared and respected were behaving the same way.
I hear people talking about how it's difficult to find and cultivate relationships in LA… and I know for a fact that isn't entirely true. It takes two people to build, just like it takes two individuals to brake down a relationship. If one is unable to deepen ties or find people to share their lives with at the end of the day, one must stop looking at the sequential events unfolding and realign oneself in the mirror.
I have lost many people throughout my life, and not entirely of my own volition. They, made a decision to keep me at arms length, be dishonest, hide certain things and convey themselves in an disingenuous way. Though I cannot abdicate myself from my own part in the deterioration of past relationships… I have paid many dues. Nevertheless, I have a tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt, to a fault
But I can think of many times where I have stuck my neck out for some of these people, … and thinking about it in retrospect, I know now they would have never done the same. And that realization is ok.
This understanding enables me to establish a different place those people in my life, forgive them for their slights… and remind myself never be so selfish as to behave in a way that knowingly devalues the integrity of my relationship with someone I truly care for.
And if someone chooses to cut themselves out of my life, it is a loss I will not lose sleep over….
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Self Assessments in Self Deprecating Mode
Most days:
…. I don’t know how to be strong. And though I might appear to be, it feels more like a guise. In actuality, my strength lies in my acceptance of being broken and the tolerance of staying there.
…. I only give to compensate for my inherently selfish ways, which I struggle with on daily basis.
…. I’m indecisive, because regardless of my foresight I lack the ambition to really move forward.
….I have an overwhelming need to understand because I usually feel disconnected.
….When I appear to be the most put together are the days I fight with myself the most.
…. I give more than I should, so that no one truly see that I rarely give (of myself) at all.
…. I use my personality to compensate for my low self-esteem.
But am overall
…. Beyond my cynicism lies someone who uses hope and idealism to encourage and inspire myself, and if I’m lucky the people around me.
….Cares and gives even at the expense of myself.
….is someone who secretly never gives up.
….someone who’s come a lot further than I’d like to admit.
….someone who is waiting to share and find people willing to give those special parts of myself.
….credulous, even when I know I shouldn’t be.
…. someone who likes who I’ve become.
What does that mean?
That I’m a self-deprecating idealist, who still wants to change the world. And this point the only thing stopping me…. is myself.
…. I don’t know how to be strong. And though I might appear to be, it feels more like a guise. In actuality, my strength lies in my acceptance of being broken and the tolerance of staying there.
…. I only give to compensate for my inherently selfish ways, which I struggle with on daily basis.
…. I’m indecisive, because regardless of my foresight I lack the ambition to really move forward.
….I have an overwhelming need to understand because I usually feel disconnected.
….When I appear to be the most put together are the days I fight with myself the most.
…. I give more than I should, so that no one truly see that I rarely give (of myself) at all.
…. I use my personality to compensate for my low self-esteem.
But am overall
…. Beyond my cynicism lies someone who uses hope and idealism to encourage and inspire myself, and if I’m lucky the people around me.
….Cares and gives even at the expense of myself.
….is someone who secretly never gives up.
….someone who’s come a lot further than I’d like to admit.
….someone who is waiting to share and find people willing to give those special parts of myself.
….credulous, even when I know I shouldn’t be.
…. someone who likes who I’ve become.
What does that mean?
That I’m a self-deprecating idealist, who still wants to change the world. And this point the only thing stopping me…. is myself.
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