Monday, October 23, 2006

letters from the closet

cleaned out my closet today. books,letters,poems. lifelines. trees planted "IN THE FOREST OF NEW YORK" for those deceased and given in paper form as a reminder. how ironic. hair ties and bow ties and fruit flies and little glass dolly eyes. a plethora of nothing and oh,everything... gathered over the years. now neatly stacked in a box.:sigh:

I cannot rid this life of emptiness. It is consuming. I will never placate this bone deep aching.I cannot change it, nor understand. This something. I will never,never be satisfied. I cannot drown it with this liquid. I cannot veil it with this smoke,with these mirrors. I cannot alter it's image with these words. Still I do not want understanding. I will not bang down your door for a bit. I won't give it up. I am not me with out it. and who am I?

The darkness cannot conceil it. and i do not wish to be completed. am i not? or touched. my flesh. and i eat these words daily,in great satisfying gulps. my secrets tucked away. i am somehow very fond of this sinking pain. relish the cruelty. there is nothing else for me? is there nothing else for me?

we cannot waste this life. but we will.we will.we'll analyze and re analyze and analyze again. till every action,word,moment,breath is shaped to satisfy.and when it cannot be reformed and explained we'll simply say "it was meant to be". and i will and i have. and i'll do so till the day i die. hating every moment of it and regretting the second it's complete. and i'll pray. i'll scream at the center. hoping that my life wasn't in vain and I didn't pass up the golden moments and settle for mediocre ones. but I know that i have before. and i know that i will and i know that no one will ever have the whole of me. and isn't that nice?

the truth of what is me. and i'll wonder if i had shared would i have been a "best seller"? if i had been honest would i not have felt so afraid? we cannot waste this life, but we will. and we'll crush it to tiny peices. and we'll store it in our bones. and we'll wonder what if? and we'll wonder if the people who wondered "what if" but made "something" of it anyway will wonder "what if"? just as we will and do. and we'll smile and we'll nod as if we've cheated somehow. as if some secret were ours.

and we'll remember the late night phone calls and the tears and the stolen kisses and we'll make something of the scrap books of our minds in the grave and it'll be beautifulland it'll shine and it will be. i cannot waste this life! but will i? will i step back when i have always been told to step forward? and will i smile when it is ok to cry? and will you hate me? for all the things i did when i shouldn't have and for not doing the things i longed to? and will it matter? really? at all?

i cannot waste this life! i must fall away from the presipous of human expectation. I cannot fail to recognize in myself napoleanic instincts. i cannot deny my own characteristics. i cannot hold my breath long enough for the wave to pass and hope to come up sputtering when i know my body will gulp the water into myself the second i am submerged.

i cannot walk by.i cannot float on. i cannot hope. i cannot wish. i cannot wonder "what if". but i have and i will. and i will and i am.

written july 10,2003

~ it is late and my mind is forming things that make no sense to my valid self. so i'll close my eyes for now. good night all dear ones. known and foreign.