This hurts.

I'm wearing stomach pain like a pro.

You shot my confidence.

I feel as if I lost this gigantic piece of myself in the storm drain,
sifting through gunk and garbarge you can see an enormous
chunk of skin and self left over.

It's been cut from my side and from some of my head,
and the odd thing is, if I remember correctly, I was the on holding the axe.
A small little axe like the one everyone has hidden in their pockets and their backpacks and for the creative ones, on their chests.

I feel as if..I lost what I lost because I'd decided to keep it,
and when decisions are made, others are still straddling the line and every decision affects the other.
So. I had fifty decisions
and only one that I could see clearly enough to work out an outline that made some sense and had some flair.

And the hole in my head has grown teeth and lips and a tongue and it's screaming,
"Make me younger!
Make me younger!"
in a voice that seems all too familiar.

All too, as in the same.
But awakened from reality, it's not so hard to realize that smaller things are versions of larger.





I have smaller fish to fry, though.
I have something to gain.

Goodbye, Blue Monday!

I have never been so fabulously well-to-do.
And I can tell you, from the looks of things, though my mind is expanding, that the sight of me will always and forever be limited in the eyes of everyone. Because I'm getting older and people aren't changing as much as they used to.

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My favorite color used to be
HOT PINK
and that was it and it was what it was!

Until my sister told me her favorite color was...blue.
Oh! I could see it now, the color of the sky! The blue of the robin's egg!
It was my favorite color!

And that was it and it was what it was...
and so on.

---------------------------------------------------

And so, I am HOT pink, you say,
I never really changed, though I might have faded a few shades,
I am still what I am and that is it.

--------------------------------------------------

I think that there is something about us that we cannot see ourselves,
and though you think you might know what it is, you don't.

Other people can see it, but they couldn't tell you either.

----------------------------------------------------

What I'm wondering is,
why can't I decide to be blue if I want to?

fugeddaboudit

As of late, I can't think in anything but short,
compact thoughts that go to seed very, very quickly.

I have so many words
but I can't seem to use them!

slammin'

I don't like poetry readings.
Reading something that I felt over a year ago to people who just came for the free food and drink

it's more than demeaning.
It's not enough I feel inferior anyway.
But I have to impress myself and my 'poetry' unto others in this room,
this stuffy, quiet, and tense
room.

Perhaps I should just get more practice in. If this is what I want to do for a living and all. But,

honestly, I've always felt a sense of dignity in writing things down and having people read and interpret it themselves.

So that my readers can feel what they feel without the author getting in their way.

Poetry slams are different.
Slam poetry is different.
In that case you write a poem for the specific reason TO sway your audience with your point of view.

And in that case, I would have liked it more. Feeding off of an audience on a stage is so fulfilling.

But in a cramped, stuffy studio where everyone is dressed to the nine's and I'm standing at a podium so tall that I almost can't see the audience..

when I'm reading a poem I wrote for paper and interpretation,
I feel as if I should be hiding.

the bird

Aye, miss. You sure know how to raise some color.

Your swaying hips with painted lips.
You splash some on and wait for the day when the color you wear will fill you in

and make you so
vibrant.

You dance so we can't see that all that you are is lines and tricks and

splinters from your mother leaving and your father slipping from the realm of reality.

You are lined but there are places where you don't connect so,
you can't be anything but

multiple
fragments

of a person.

"Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

I've discovered
that if you get too intimate with anyone right away,
they generally shy away from you.

Which makes me very sad.

Because all I want to say when I meet someone I think I could get on well with, after the bum meet and greet alike, is

'Let's get down to the dirty, shall we?
I mean, let's get right down to the raw.
And if that question scares you,
you probably wouldn't like me anyway.'

And have them answer me. Actually, truly answer me. Not with a joke, not with a laugh.



I don't like when people hide.
Life is too short to keep the beauty of YOU from the rest of the world.