keep treading water like this
you're bound to tire out
keep trusting someone will save you
you’re bound to drown
i only give one good chance
and then I miss someone
won’t hold grudges but I don’t forgive easily
i could forget if my gut would stop reminding me
are you ever genuine?
i might stop looking behind closed doors for
your intentions
if you’d stop shutting them
i’ll stop hiding under blankets
if you stop scaring me with shadow games
i’ll stop running up the stairs
if you stop chasing me
can we be honest?
do we know the meaning?
if your insecurities would stop screaming
you might hear what I’m saying
you always beat around the bush
saying a whole lot of nothing but your talking
doesn’t stop
your mouth is moving but I can’t make out a
damn thing you say
and I wish for a second
you could stop and I could stop
and we could look at one another
step over the pile of shit we’ve been
tossing all our faults in
and hold on to each other
until we can stop holding onto
who is right and who is wrong
if this is all we have
let's leave it here
let it live in this space
let it spin around in its own dust storm
you brushed it off
like a change in personality should
have been expected
like maybe you knew it was coming
i sure didn’t
the carousel we rode, a teasing rotation
made it too easy to jump on and off
you know I love you though
i know you love me too
we almost love too much to be angry
love too much to turn our backs
i thought maybe that was the case
but I think you just told me your
version of goodbye
could we just say what we mean?
do we know how?
i still can’t imagine life without you
even when you make it too intense
and your wordiness too complicated
i’d like to simplify with you
i don’t know where to begin
i drove around today looking for you
with no intention of finding you anywhere
and no idea what to do with you if I did
i might try to embrace it all away
do you think we could hold on
long enough to forget?
straight through awkward touches
dig ourselves out of the hole of ill intentions
passed the first kiss
the unraveling confessions
the premature devotion
our future gave us more comfort then
the present moment
we had catching up to do
i drove around today
i like the feeling of leaving and heading
somewhere better
thoughts come out when the coast is clear
when I was kid, long car rides meant
we were going somewhere
leaving the house of terrors behind
at least for a little while
my aunt always said
driving was the greatest privilege
she said
you can get in your car and go anywhere
i always imagined I would be grateful for it too
reminded myself to remember where it can take me
what it can save me from
watching closely
memorizing what foot pressed what pedals
what direction to turn the keys
R meant reverse
D meant drive
i wanted to make sure I knew what to do
when I had the privilege
funny,
I
didn’t
trust
anyone
would
teach
me
my body doesn’t know how to
do things without caution
spent most of my life in two gears
safe on land or drowning
i learned early on how to
handle dangerous situations
head down, quiet, stay unheard, unseen
but l i s t e n
listen scrupulously
are you staying?
are you with me?
or have you drifted off somewhere I can’t see
has the current taken you
the winds too strong for you to paddle through
the moon not bright enough
the sky not clear enough
i’m afraid of the hole that might
be left in your absence
like a flower ripped out of the ground
roots dangling and ragged
your body will take you in the
direction you set your eyes
are looking at me?
are you looking?
B.
your face your eager smile wisps of unruly hair that insist on slipping from behind your ear you self consciously tuck them back silently reprimanding i brush your hand away leave them I say nothing looks out of place mutual understanding dancers in the kitchen you watch my hands cut carrots you watch my hands stained the color of bleeding beets you watch my hands peel the flaky layers of onion its thin, crackling shell sticking to my fingers you watch my hands slice cucumber it’s my hands you watch sip wine from lavender cups we sit across from a round table we sit cross legged on the carpet we eat leafy salad we slurp french soup we laugh but also there is quiet not silence quiet comfortable quiet there are moments i hold onto that could have m o v e d mountains intense certainty met with bold confessions met with tears of scared joy ...and mountains m o v e d a narrative we only partially understood but we believed even so i applaud the innocence of the unknown when we had no reason to believe anything other than exactly what we w a n t e d i envy that short period of time when there is only good seldom does it last long i hope next time i remember that I’ll miss it some day
shifter
look at the shape i’m in all fragile limbs like tree fingers spread out like vines veins of energy vibrating i am light traveling like you’d never believe faster than your eyes can long for such weight i bring you down but I am flying overhead you reach but fall short voices carry always listening sailing up your ear canal i am opening shifting spreading leaking into unfelt crevices a spineless serpent a rift in your disposition i am dissonance a quake in your calm a desperate reprieve in waiting i can feel it you can feel it it eludes us i am the shape i’m in a mass of interference a giant, fragile stem protruding from rooted rumble half rotten, half thriving choking on my own birth
a lifetime of isolation
I feel so alone. And not just now, in quarantine. I always feel alone. Sometimes though, the aloneness drifts beneath the surface. And other times, it rises, nearly drowning me. Today it feels like that. I can literally feel the people close to me moving further away. They reach out less, never when I need them the most. I feel like an island. Like everyone knows where I am, they can see me but they can’t get to me. Somehow, they don’t realize that I’m not well. That I want to be saved. I am alone, in my thoughts, in my worries. I’m alone in the way I speak and act. I’m alone in the way I express myself. I’m alone in what I eat, drink. I’m alone in how I sleep, or lack there of, and the way I dream. I’m alone in my nightmares. Nobody sees the world through my eyes. There is no similar lens. I’m alone in my aloneness. Everyone is so content where they are. I’m alone in my want for more. I’m alone in my need for expansion, exploration and growth. I crave to be opened, wide. I crave to be seen, heard, felt. I speak and a different language comes out, a sound unrecognized, unsympathized. I feel so much. Too much. Deeply, profoundly deep. I feel everything from everyone. I feel it 10 times harder. I want to scream. I am screaming. Nobody ever hears me. I am silenced, gagged. I see nobody like me. My words fall on deaf ears, voiceless tongues, blind eyes. Hello. My god will I ever feel a part of something. Will I ever feel connected? I am so alone and I am surrounded by people. I am in a crowded room and I am in isolation. I am alone. Familiar faces, I see how we are alike, smiles, almond eyes, cheekbones, we even sound the same, our laughter. I am alien to them. I long for them to know me. I long to be understood. I am always asking. Can you hear me? Do you hear me? Will you listen? Will you? I am alone, in my home, in my family, in my world. This world, where I do not belong. I’m so tired of the noise inside my head, constant. Thoughts roped together by loneliness. Those thoughts are safe there. It is the only place they are free. If I let them out, when I let them out they quickly learn, they are not wanted elsewhere. They are not welcome. They are told to shrink, they are told they are not deserving. They are dismissed. Somehow it is too small for them out there, they’re confined by limiting walls. In here, they are growing, they are swelling, bulging, they are running in endless fields and they never tire.
quarantine
It’s been 48 days since I last went into work. At least 48 days since I went out over my best friends house for dinner and wine. Over 48 days since I met any of my friends out for drinks. Over 48 days since I spent a Sunday at my parents house or had game night with my sisters. I miss the hours of talking on a park bench under the moon, deep discussions over coffee about monogamy, infidelity, politics, rituals, sleep cycles, dating, evolving friendships, goals, dreams, spirituality, purpose. I miss eye contact, you know the kind that’s so intense it’s tangible. I miss the connection you feel in physical presence, when you’re sharing the same air space. I miss smiling at strangers seated at the bar around me, the mutually shared and respected but separate reasons we are all there: a silent understanding.
I don’t miss routine. I don’t miss looking at schedules. I don’t miss feeling as though I need to be a thousand things to a hundred people. I don’t miss being stretched too thin. I don’t miss the leg and back aches that come with standing for 10+ hours a day. I don’t miss feeling like I have to say yes, have to stay late, have to come in early, have to be happy, excited, enthusiastic, eager. I don’t miss being “on” all the time. I don’t miss feeling so exhausted from constant talk that I have nothing left when I get home. I don’t miss feeling so physically worn that the weekend serves only as recovery time.
My quarantine life has gone through many phases. Hours staring off into space. Days curled up on the couch reading. Drawing the same silhouette for weeks until I mastered it (got bored with it). Doodling with sharpies in a swirly daze. Writing poems and essays. Depression. Anxiety. Wine. Lots of wine. Pot brownies to help me sleep. Panic. Watching my checking account dwindle. Nightmares. FaceTime with friends. Group chats with sisters about our fear over my parents not making it through this fucking virus. Worry. Thankful for a break from work. Anxiety over a break for work (will I lose my clients??). Staying up late. Going to sleep early. Sleeping in. Waking up early. Avoiding grocery stores. Excitement over a full fridge and cabinets. Stocking up on food. Watching my fridge empty out. Waiting for grocery deliveries. Isolating myself in isolation. Avoiding calls and texts. Looking at my phone, does nobody want to talk to me? Endless scrolling. Watching the news. Not watching the news. Long, hot showers.
And finally, working out. For maybe the first time ever I look forward to it. I really push myself: shakey legs, sore triceps, burning abs. I know it makes sense, now there’s actual time to work out, but I think it’s a little deeper than that. I’ve never had a moment in my life where I wasn’t distracted by the “have to’s”. Life has always been about working hard, playing hard, get up early, work out, go to work, eat a healthy dinner, get to bed early. Repeat. I could never really do it. I’m not driven by peer pressure. Falling ill to the sickness of comparison has done nothing but make me feel less than. I’ve never been a morning person but I know people who can wake up at 5 a.m and go to spin class. I envied them but wondered, why am I still not doing it?! I was worried I lacked motivation and self discipline. In reality I never lacked motivation or self discipline. I was always trying to fit into what society made me believe was the way I HAD to do things. To be honest, work exhausted me so badly I couldn’t even fathom adding a workout to my mornings.
Suddenly, a gift. Time. We are constantly being distracted by what we have to do, need to do and should do. It doesn’t leave room for the things we want to do. We have to go here, leave there, drop this somewhere, pick up something, buy these, return those. There are so many conversations we are obligated to have, parties we’re obligated to attend, bodies we’re obligated to whip into shape…like we aren’t the narrators of our own stories. I have often felt helpless in my own life, like I didn’t have the options I wanted or choices I wanted. I’m a hard worker and often find I work myself too hard. It’s my own fault but it’s also what I’ve been conditioned to do. I feel like I am not giving it my all unless I am squeezing in that last client at what should be the end of my day. If I don’t want to cry at the thought of giving another happy greeting or feel too mentally and physically drained to even drive home, did I even work? It’s always been a question of can I do it? And the answer is always well, yes I can. But just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
How sad is it that it took a global pandemic to remember how good it felt to finish a book? And not just the feeling of accomplishment but also the feeling of loss, knowing you’ve read the last word, closed it for the last time. When was the last time I took more than a five minute shower or soaked in a bath? How long has it been since I went a whole day without checking email? Have I ever spent a Saturday out on the deck in the sun with a book, or drawing pad? It took a global pandemic for me to work out for my own pleasure not because I feel pressured by society standards. How sad that I had to lose the freedom of seeing people whenever I want in order to know who I truly want to spend more time with. How sad that now I’m afraid to lose it. I started this quarantine worried, like I was losing my sense of normalcy. Now I’m afraid to lose the quality it brought to my life. How do I make sure I return to the world with an actual sense of balance? How do I make sure I don’t fall into the endless rabbit hole of success, hard work and people pleasing? It feels as though there is no other option. I absolutely cannot go back to that… but I can’t stay here.