POETRY

How different this sunrise is from the last one.
I’m sitting on a velvet couch
I’m not limited by ink since my phone is charged
I’m just looking forward to bagels and coffee
And fall is officially here in Brooklyn

I wasted a bit of time because I found her profile
You really do have a habit of ping-ponging
Off of relationships, don’t you
What happens when your ball falls off the table?

And I’m not innocent.
I hunt to find another in a state of ego
I search for weakness to show myself that I’m the lucky one
I’m the one who escaped and left you with a realization that
How you loved was destructive

Searching signs of an aura that casts mirror speckles everywhere.
The habit of seeing yourself everywhere, even where it doesn’t belong.
The self-appointed credits. A puffy jacket to appear larger in real life.
I hope the horse will buck you off – because there are days when I think about
Last January.
The callousness since.
And all that makes sense to me is to tell you to fuck off

I don’t know what to do about this smiling joker yet
I want to go on a fast ride with you – let the mud splash in my face
And get away from yoga, meditation and plant-based diets for a day or a few months
Maybe I just wanna live life with you and stop talking about it so much

Maybe I wanna use you for that fun guy energy.
Maybe I can’t write poetry, and I don’t need to be so insightful.
Maybe if I wasn’t, I’d still have that fake engagement ring.

Every time you talk about a quirk of hers
I have to shut my ego up and tap into the being-ness of listening to the story

Every time you go from flirty to lost in space,
I have to tap into my surroundings and hold gratitude for what is in front of me

Every time you change your mind,
I have to remind myself to never attach to anything. 

Every time the details surface through vagueness,
I have déjà vu, and trust what’s shown.

Or I could just strip myself of this drama,
leave the person be who doesn’t want me
And live life without all the challenge
What would life be like with consistency in it?
How would I do with the ease of a salary, friends who show up, a group that plans outings, a healthy digestive system and the reliability of a partner who adores me?

I think sometimes I forget about the end goal, because the process of getting there is so adult.
It’s a part where…
I’m getting my ass up at 5am. I’m applying for jobs, putting myself out there; and on the side working somewhere I don’t love to buy only the necessities.
I have my short and my long term goals, and they don’t change just because I met a distraction.
I’m not worried about losing what I’m letting go of, because I’m more concerned about not having enough space for the end goals.
The journey I will have to be on to escape this chaos of temporary, unsustainable satisfaction does not sound fun.
But it’s also deciding I’m enough, so I can plan without having to wait on new people to enter my world.

It’s negative one degree’s out.
I don’t know why I thought, even the few minutes I’d be out here,
I could handle this with kid gloves on.
My chest feels tight; I was holding my breath.
It’s hard to stay present when the temperature is killing you.

I read yesterday that all that is not “matter”
Is nothingness;  and in that nothingness
We can connect with the unmanifested.
That is to say, by paying attention to the 
Space between things, between walls, between us and them,
We can find our soul.
But an hour later I was in a sauna wondering,
“What about temperature? What about oxygen and carbon monoxide?” 
What about the very things that allow us to BE
In these bodies as manifested in solid matter?
Are these nothingness? We can’t see the space
Between these molecules, because we can’t see the molecules.
Therefore, if space is the portal into the unknown, 
and matter we can see represents the known
What about the known matter, that we cannot see?

I know I am sad and scared and nervous to get back to Los Angeles,
Yet I cannot see these emotions. Perhaps
They are just chemical: a physical
manifestation that my soul wanted to experience
Through the sensitivity of humanness.
I try to trust that this is what is supposed to happen.
That I signed some contract many lifetimes back
That would hex me against technology and lovers where I
Would in turn get so used to it that I would
Hex myself. So what I’m still trying to figure out is,
Am I meant to somehow fight against all this?
Claim that I deserve better,
It doesn’t have to be this way,
Break my back to overcome every obstacle
And actualize my life into one that my soul and ego were proud of?
Or do I surrender into what is? Surrender that 
Maybe I won’t ever get married or have a family
Maybe I will have to move back home
Maybe I’ve made my family’s life worse by being in it,
I keep seeing myself make mistake after mistake.
I try to do better, yet the resistance is powerful.
I try to overcome every self-destructive tendency
Until pleasure wants to take over and
Just run the show.

He was going through this same battle. 
He surrendered.
I was still fighting. I am
Still fighting.
But I no longer blame him
For breaking our contract. 

Gravity.
Pulling my left then my right lids down.
I can’t vouch for my creativity when I can’t see the lines I’m writing between.
Feet out, lean back,
Wait.
The sun will crest over eventually. Let it be your alarm clock.
Nature had a different tone. When you get the call you have to go.
From bronze to gold to bright, bright green. It’s all relative and irrelevant.
When you plan to cheat,
Take the work, less healing
When the sun is further
In the sky.

These are extreme conditions.
Big love, four nights, one tent.
Seventy-five burners. I know no
One. Social stamina muscle
Is built, voice is broken.

It feels so good to listen,
Especially since everyone
Has had a wild ride
So far.

The Art of Not Giving a Fuck employed.
Grab that tambourine, feel the beat, or miss it, pick it back up again.
The point is to have fun trying.
To show people that you’re not afraid of your ego dying. Make a big mess of yourself now. No better time to let those fucks go. No one can do you like you can – and it’s needed here and hey – it’s needed everywhere.

The more you try to fit your gifts to what you think other people want, the further away you get from doing just that.
Yourself is what’s needed.
Sing a song and trail to a tangent then click away knowing that you can take the shifts and changes within and without you and it is always going to be needed, whatever your gifts so happen to be.

I didn’t get picked again.
He didn’t even touch my hair.
Doesn’t he know that it’s virgin hair??
Not picked, rejected, the idiots.
Idiots! Sounds familiar.

If he had only touched it he would have known.
I look at their choices and feel pity
for their stupidity that who they are
looking for is me. I am that girl.
I have that thick, luscious hair, with
High cheek bones, eyes that will
kill you with their stare; I am Medusa
Look at me and risk your life.
You don’t know what you want
You don’t know what you want
You don’t know what you want
Look at me: I will hold
you with my hair, I will encapsulate
Everything that thrills you and terrifies
you with one stare.

I’m every girl you ever wanted in one.
Why is it taking so long for someone
to figure this out? I can chill with you
on your couch, then fuck you in your car.
I look good on your arm and get your weird
humor. You can say weird shit like “I
want to chew up your eyeballs and spit them
out” and I will get it and love you for it.
Your desire for me scares you because it
has taken you over. You don’t know if there’s
room for anything else. You know I’m the
end. You know this is a mudslide.
You don’t want me to hold you because
you know once you succomb to me
your will is useless. It’s over. The rest
of your life is in my hands. Idiot!

I never gave myself that power only you.
You will hunt for the forbidden fruit
only to look back years from now, see that
I’ve hardly aged, I’m exceeding you in our
Careers and that I’m ridiculously happy
without you.
You will feel sorry; you will realize how stupid you
were. You were realize you were such a
goddamn idiot for not even trying,
not even touching my… hair. Not even
seeing what could be possible with this
beauty, this body, this mind, these eyes,
these arms, these hands, this heart, this smile.
Coward. Step out of your own way and stop looking.
I’m right here. Focus now, readjust that focal length.
You need a more shallow depth of field because I’m
RIGHT HERE. Stop looking. You’ve found it.
Don’t be an idiot.