Somethings don’t have to be said
I know that all humans are not bad
But I have a hard time fingerings out the good ones
I don’t trust my ability fully.
There is always something I can miss
This uncertainty is my armor
I try to keep one foot on the ground
And one hand on my pistol
I not going to put up with bullshit
Its nothing personal, you understand?
It just, you see, I don’t know
how long I have to live
It may end soon or something
so I don’t want to waste any time
on bullshit -You get it
You’ve wasted time on bullshit
I see it on your face
The Christmas lights on my tree
Its all I have kept of tradition
You never put me right
Maybe you tried
Maybe you loved me
But that’s not enough
Your love can’t cover up your abuse
I’m not a little child. But I’m still vulnerable
I admit it. I’m at accepting
I can’t live for you
I’m not sorry.
You wanted me to carry you
Like a pointless backpack of rocks
like a bucket of shit
sloshing on top of my head
I was your surefooted mule
I took pride in how much I could carry
I’ve put it down
The bible, the apologizing, the pride, shame,
And now – the fear and bucket of hate.
I’ve given up being the ass
Its no longer my surprise
I’m not passing it on or boxing it up
Or hiding it in the basement
Wrapped tight for later
You fucked up
you carry it
it doesn’t matter if you knew better
or if you were doing your best with
the knowledge you had
if your own hindsight doesn’t shame you
someone else’s will
if it doesn’t, you’re probably not human
Diet cream soda is not that good
but it is good enough
That is the restless thought of the day
Its two thirty in the morning and
you dear, stumble to bed and put your
knees into my back.
I lie there next to you
for an hour
then get up and stand outside on the balcony
I can’t sleep
I drink water
I lie on the couch
I piss again
Its morning. Its time to get
daughter ready for school
For the past 30 something weeks all I have been
doing is lying on the couch and feeling
This is pregnancy
This is why I’d rather the stork
bit were true
A friend said everyone has to grow up.
He said it like a man who had been
molded by someone else’s hammer.
It heated me and made me malleable
like burning kittens or drowning puppies.
It is hard to grow up, friend.
if we die too young.
Lets make paper airplanes
with scraps of paper sent
by the bill collectors.
Lets ride a bike around the lake
with a little ginger ale in our bellies
and a plumped up grin
to meet the noise of the old people
doing the boring and necessary things
to keep their lines and moles in order
Lets walk on the beach and kick the waves.
Lets pick up rocks and suck on them.
Lets climb the mountains and jump off
giggling fear into the abyss
I am going to die
and I am not sure when
but while I am here
I am going to fuck
with you whenever we can
There are going to be bad days
-absurd happenings and stubbed toes
and I’ll accept it
-the universe and my ordinary
place in it
as long as you are here
to bring me licorice and root beer
and other dreamy stuff
like titty kisses and big warm hugs
and your extraordinary love