I’m Noticing.

I’m noticing the way that doors suddenly open when one gets closed on something you’ve let go from your Life.

People always said this to me when I had recently slammed a door shut in one context or another, but it never seemed to apply to my personal “hallways”before. This time, it’s actually proven true to my own experience.

I’ve been wearing ‘Man Blinders’ for over a year, as (I thought) I was in a relationship with a (previously unrecognized) lowly worm; and haven’t been open to meeting new men at all. I had stupidly uncultivated the interest in meeting anyone else because I was too busy believing a constant stream of pure, undiluted bullshit for way too long.
However, almost immediately after discovering the true nature of said weasel/worm, anything I ever allowed myself to feel for him literally evaporated from my heart and mind; making it exceptionally easy to close the door that seals him and his nonsense out of my Life permanently.
And, the other doors began to swing open almost at once. I’m not bragging by any means; and it’s not like I have shit-tons of men hammering at my door or anything. But there have been a few who, upon learning the fact that I’ve been set free from what more than one of them recognized as having always been a hoax, resurfaced to offer their varying types of comfort to me.(Not like I need any of it.)
One man in particular, who I’ve only recently met while walking my dog about 3 months ago, has been surprisingly into me since finding out my renewed status of “single”.

Before he finally spoke to me for the first time, I had walked passed his house every day for about 3 months and he only smiled and waved at me on the sidewalk from his garage, never saying a word to me at all. He assumed I was married and I naturally did the same about him.

One day, Oso and I were walking by and he came charging out of the garage down the driveway waving a bag of dog treats and asking my dog’s name. Now that in itself caught my attention because most if not all people are too intimidated by my big boy to walk up with a hand out without knowing him. He later told me that he figured the only way to “get in” with me was through my ever faithful protector, my dog. But even after he told me this, he never said a word about anything romantic between he and I until this week.

This guy rides a badass Harley Davidson Dina, likes my dog (but more importantly, Oso likes him), is a pothead, he’s highly self aware, good looking, not planning to stay in the area for much longer, no ex wives or children, and, he plays guitar very well.
(Something about a guy who plays guitar that gets me everytime).

I’m not quite dating him, we mostly ride around in the mountains on his bike, just hang out, get stoned, and we talk about everything and anything for hours. He even almost had to give me the Hymlick Maneuver once, when I swallowed a wedge of a tangerine whole and literally couldn’t breathe. That was only the second time we ever hung out, it was so embarrassing! Plus, he’s only known me since I began the undertaking of massive dental procedures; and he doesn’t bat an eye when I drop in with a swollen, numbed face and I’m drooling on myself without knowing. He just laughs approvingly and says,

“No worries, I kinda like it when you look like maybe you just had a stroke…”

It’s a good thing right now, to have someone to pass time with in the evenings. After being in a long-distance shit show, it’s very refreshing to get picked up in my own driveway by a man on a loud motorcycle who just happens to live nearby. It’s nice for a change to be able to send or recieve a text or a call and be able to follow up by actually hanging out with that person in real time, like, any time. He is very open and intense and full of a certain charisma. Also, it was his house I drove to and shook and screamed when I learned of my former boyfriend being a conniving thief. So he’s hip to my currently jaded state of mind in regard to trusting and closeness etc. He knows what I literally just walked out of and he doesn’t push anything. I’ve been feeling pretty happy the past week believe, it or not.


He says I can get a new backup harddrive and start over; I guess his outlook applies to more than the harddrive…I think he’s pretty amazing.

Gone.

Would you be,
any fonder of me,
if I suddenly chose,
to start listening?

Would you decide,
to more deeply confide,
the darkness behind,
your odd eccentricities?

Shall I unbind,
this heart of mine,
lay it down on your table,
where the other parts lie?

I suppose you’d prefer,
if I acted just like her:
if I loved co-dependently,
full-time, live-in “fluffer”;

If I leaned on you, heavily,
with intentions only pure?
a dead weight weighing down,
the coat-tails in your future;

Would you choose to diffuse again?
if I checked my levels of estrogen,
had my words been better chosen,
would I have someday been forgiven?

What if, instead of,
this twisted notion of “love”,
I recognized one evening,
the ill fit of your glove;

and the day soon arrives,
with my wide open eyes,
seeing things the way that I,
should’ve seen them, by and by;

all you’ll find is my trust,
blindly choking on my dust,
as you see me get smaller,
in the distance between us.

Bubble Bath.

I thought you’d left while I was in the bubble bath;

So I paraded around sporting bitchy tits ‘n ass…

I wrapped myself up in your freshly washed towel;

telling myself I was glad that you were gone now…

Silly me; you actually never had gone anywhere at all;

I found you standing quietly with your mouth opened in awe …

Beads of sweat dot your head; a crown of liquefied guilt;

Swallowed whole – from all you know; desire you’ve never felt…

And when you see my red-ruby pouting start to pucker,

and sense how my insides tense;  you sexy mother-fucker…

Lick me clean of my tears – salted by such childish fears;

strike a match against the fuse between the filthy and the pure…

tonight I stroke your hidden side – that displaced face you always hide;

Allow me to perfect your view of how a good girl will abide…

you stood there, your hands wringing with intensity;

shirtless and hungry like a pre-meditative beast,

I was yours bendable expendable – that’s right,  wrapped up tight;

And you were yourself – an animal, ever-ready to bite…

the time became a sucking noise from the drain,

you manhandled my body and I hijacked your brain;

I’m glad you never left while I was in the bubble bath;

it’s sad to think about it now after so much time has passed.

.

 

Of My Court.

The line is clear,
your voice is true –
when you inquire,
if I still belong to you…
my response is sure,
as the day is long –
when I assert,
that I belong to no one…
though, in spite of such,
the flame that we produce –
continues to burn,
the hottest shades of blue…
the whitest heat,
the love runs deep –
like a river’s mouth,
feeding directly into…
the vastness of oceans,
the vacuum of space –
the grip of your fingers,
the look on your face…
you remain my Hero,
the Champion of my court –
whittler of my wooden heart,
fixer of my broken parts…
you’ve caught my tears,
and scrubbed away,
in total disarray –
the stains left by my blood…
you’ve carried me,
screaming and kicking,
cursing the heavens,
from the top of my lungs –
you sat me down,
when the day was done…
and reminded me of how,
redemption would come –
someday, somehow,
you say, let’s focus on,
this moment right now…
and the future to come,
but the truth is,
when good nights are said,
and the laughter is gone –
I still love you as much,
as I’ve always done…
the distance that has,
always plagued –
the wedge between,
any regular touch,
that much needed spark,
a transmission,
the ignition,
a link that strings invisibly –
between yours,
and my own skin…
it is still this way,
for the same reason today,
as it always was back then –
you’re there,
and I’m here,
love can’t make,
the void disappear…
no matter how true,
or how real, or pure –
I know it hurts you so much,
that I need to be touched,
I need to be felt,
heard, and related to –
up close and personally,
not electronically,
not through text messaging…
you can claim me,
the day that I finally –
say “fuck it”,
and come home to you.

Try Me.

Try me, spicy,
cursive Roman lettering…
A secret alphabet,
Dicey;
enticing the skin
of my fingertips;
dividing the places
between my hips;
underneath, and
in between,
how did you know?
How can you be?
The Keeper of
the lock and key…
when I
can’t even find the thing?
Try me, scarface,
nemojte me obožavaju?…
Made of bones –
Which dialect
Do you know?
si me obožavaju?
can’t you understand?
Made of flesh –
And strung
around your neck,
you want it wet…
I’m in your net.
Please?
Release…
Try me, Handsome,
I’m yours for sure
Your unsecret whore,
Of the North Shore.
Made of stones,
tell me…
who is right and wrong?
It does not matter,
It never will,
Let me in –
Let me kill;
Your darkest chatter,
Be it gone,
so that my ears
will hear…
your every love song.
Push me and pull me
Carry on…
I hear you
I see you
I know your soul,
you know that I do…
it can’t be controlled;
it won’t be withheld,
that wouldn’t be fair…
tongues and tresses,
swallowed air…
necklaces of skulls and things,
bite marks and ink stains;
I love your pleasures,
you love my pains.
What the fuck
was my point again?

Overstuffed.

 

Friday night
in the black and white filmstrip,
an evening wind licks,
howls out clear and crisp,
can’t quite catch my breath;
heart-heavy –
touch your hand to my heart
and get ready –
the whip cracks back,
bitten into my bottom lip,
the tension slacks
and I twitched under your fingertips;
in rhythmic and seamless movements;
flows dominantly –
touch tongue to skin
and the outs and ins you find fitting –
burned through the dark,
your eyes made out of twinkly skies,
hand-fed meals for my Master,
a mouth full of sugary lies,
your touch
breaks my spirit down;
leaves it for dead –
your voice
sings the revival
non-stop in my head –
my body is awe-stricken,
whip-lashed into submission,
flipped front and back,
on your overstuffed bed.

Unfillable.

Unfillable 2016

I know that more than most like you,

you do what you mean,

you mean what you do,

I see you’ve proven tried and true

how your presence hangs

over empty work boots

I see only YOU can fill those shoes

nobody else,

no one, but you.

I know that more than most like me,

I fall down harder,

I heal more slowly,

you see what resembles, vaguely,

that maybe I’m just,

behaving protectively,

you see the way that I’m sinking,

desperate thrusts uppercut,

to kick you free from me,

The truth is much harder to loose,

it can fly like an arrow,

or choke like a noose,

til nothing is left to solve or deduce,

high like the sparrow,

left singing the blues.

 

Overstuffed.

p_a_i_n_by_the__pessimist-d5cynmq

Friday night
in the black and white filmstrip,
an evening wind licks,
howls out clear and crisp,
can’t quite catch my breath;
heart-heavy –
touch your hand to my heart
and get ready –
the whip cracks back,
bitten into my bottom lip,
the tension slacks
and I twitched under your fingertips;
in rhythmic and seamless movements;
flows dominantly –
touch tongue to skin
and the outs and ins you find fitting –
burned through the dark,
your eyes made out of twinkly skies,
hand-fed meals for my Master,
a mouth full of sugary lies,
your touch breaks my spirit down;
leaves it for dead –
your voice sings the revival
non-stop in my head –
my body is awe-stricken,
whiplashed into submission,
flipped front and back,
on your overstuffed bed.

Of My Court.

The line is clear,
your voice is true –
when you inquire,
if I still belong to you…
my response is sure,
as the day is long –
when I assert,
that I belong to no one…
though, in spite of such,
the flame that we produce –
continues to burn,
the hottest shades of blue…
the whitest heat,
the love runs deep –
like a river’s mouth,
feeding directly into…
the vastness of oceans,
the vacuum of space –
the grip of your fingers,
the look on your face…
you remain my Hero,
the Champion of my court –
whittler of my wooden heart,
fixer of my broken parts…
you’ve caught my tears,
and scrubbed away,
in total disarray –
the stains left by my blood…
you’ve carried me,
screaming and kicking,
cursing the heavens,
from the top of my lungs –
you sat me down,
when the day was done…
and reminded me of how,
redemption would come –
someday, somehow,
you say, let’s focus on,
this moment right now…
and the future to come,
but the truth is,
when good nights are said,
and the laughter is gone –
I still love you as much,
as I’ve always done…
the distance that has,
always plagued –
the wedge between,
any regular touch,
that much needed spark,
a transmission,
the ignition,
a link that strings invisibly –
between yours,
and my own skin…
it is still this way,
for the same reason today,
as it always was back then –
you’re there,
and I’m here,
love can’t make,
the void disappear…
no matter how true,
or how real, or pure –
I know it hurts you so much,
that I need to be touched,
I need to be felt,
heard, and related to –
up close and personally,
not electronically,
not through text messaging…
you can claim me,
the day that I finally –
say “fuck it”,
and come home to you.

Bubble Bath.

bubble bathI thought you’d left while I was in the bubble bath;

So I paraded around in tears, sporting naked tits ‘n ass…

I sat on the floor, wrapped in your freshly washed towel;

In love with a truth masks my pain, somehow…

Silly me: you never left to go anywhere at all;

Eyes fixated on my body like I’m a photo on a wall…

Beads of sweat dot your head; a crown of liquefied guilt;

Swallowed whole – by all you know; release like you’ve never felt…

Can you see my ruby-sadness drenched, pouting lips start to pucker?

Can you sense: the way my insides tense; and my skin burns like a mother-fucker?

Lick me clean, of these tears – salted with my own childish fears;

Light the fuse of combustion between the filthy and most pure…

Let me nurture your hidden side – that face you always hide;

Allow me to show you how a good girl shall abide…

Don’t just sit there, with your mouth hanging wide;

Let me give you something to finally close those tired eyes.

I will be yours bendable expendable – to do with, whatever you like;

And you will be yourself – a snake in the grass, ever-ready to strike…

I will hold you closely, so tightly that your breath fails;

Bet your ass – we will lie together – in this filthy bed of nails.

Understanding

kiss011

Life often throws curve-balls at me when it comes to the stupid choices I make in regard to ‘trust’ and ‘the wrong people’; and so the story goes.

The older I get, the more able I am to take responsibility for my own parts in the bullshit that goes down between myself and others – and the older I get, the less willing I become to even involve the others at all in my existence.

Being online with so many diverse personalities has helped me to learn a lot about the unwillingness I have cultivated over the years; and it has also been my experiences with people online that have helped reaffirm a longstanding sentiment I’ve held when it comes to the people around me:

  1. I do not have to love them.
  2. I do not have to understand them.
  3. I do not even have to give a shit about them.

But my not giving a shit about somebody in whom I foster no love or understanding for should not impede my own sense of morality and/or humanity as a result; and I should never allow it to.