we lay in bed as we often did, after so many questions, the thin invisible electrical wires pulsating between us. was this my imagination? i could have told you this wasn't going to last. this happiness was too simple and your legs much too long. i could never keep up. i, in my pale pudgy body, curled against your tall torso. and every time i was surprised when you held me close and entwined your fingers in mine. of course, there were these things i could not tell you. i could only smile against the darkness of your room.

you'd always say how fun i am which made me sad. you never knew but it made me cringe to think of myself as a cheap carnival game you'd get sick of playing. i was never beautiful or any other such word. to look at you struck my eyes like a match and to kiss you i must have been drunk every time-- before or because of such kissing. i took photographs of you as you slept, but i didnt know that you are always this serene. you are a rational statue and i want to be your wavering shadow. the apparition.

and something else i could never tell you... i want to waste away. i want to become thin and fragile and twiney like the girls you seem to like. and all the hunger in me wil be for you. i want it to hurt because i feel like suffering for you. i want to be delicate and frail and fall like a leaf. i will be the pretty white light that you follow. i want to starve. and i will.

Current Mood: hungry

okay. im pretty sure nobody reads this.

i had this "buddy" see... and the only reason we could fuck on the regular was because i had some strange connection with him, however slight, however like tensil it was. this shiny and fragile string that ran between us. so, yeah i could go to his house to fuck, but we could talk intelligently and sometimes about deep shit. and i could pull his hair back from his face and really see him sometimes, however fleeting those moments were, however slight. besides the passionate sex, that's what kept me coming back, i think, those moments in between words, and listening to billy holiday on the record player, my toes between the thick carpet of his house. but i cut it off with harsh words and abruptly. i had to. maybe because i couldn't play him, because i had no control.

now my friend is fucking him. i laugh it off and act as though i don't care. he really wasn't my type at all. i'm carefree and easy like the dense malbec we drank some nights. what, me worry? but oh it burns a little going down. and my heart feels this strange foreign feeling. what could it be? like a swelling lake in my chest. and i have forgotten where my arms are. surely i will drown. surely.

this wind is feral and mounting against me. how easily a body full of love can turn to waste and blow away. these thoughts are so old they are crystalizing. i am a wayward dinosaur.

but here i am.

i used to carry men in my pocket. now i can barely grab them by the torso. they just don't want to go.

this crush is crushing me. this yearning is like lead to my brain. he paints me with his toxic paint. and he doesn't even know it.

i keep saying, do not text him, do not text him, do not text his plush lips, do not text his firm buttox, do not text him.
today, i am keeping my promise.

all day at work i scrutinize him. trying to find faults.

nada.

i wanna say, fuck you for calling me your "corazon." fuck you, D, for not needing me.

sometimes i think, well, people as beautiful as him are elusive, always expecting some one to come to them, because they never had to pursue anyone. so i just sit back. and try not to smile too wide.

and other times, i think i probably gave up the goods too early.... yeah that must be it.

he used to say i'm mysterious.
i guess now i'm transparent. now that he's seen inside me. been inside me.

last night, arriving home from work, i left my bike outside against my better judgment. i sensed, with my body's smallest voice, the utter likeliness of rain. yet this is not happenstance. i seem to ignore, more and more, any self apparent hint of truth. i wade over these waves of numbness and feel, at times, as if i am not even alive. i am a block of petrified wood longing to be a tree again.


the baby is sick.
idle hands.
he needs to create something.
the flow of optimal experience.
but the tv is always on.
the computer continues glowing.
tune out.
lets work hard. softly.
process, progress, procedure, practice.
may this be your pill.
take it.


ape-trill

Current Mood: blank

every day i go through the motions and feel like my stomach is bleeding. feel like whatever it is we could have been is rotting away inside me. i cant eat, i barely sleep. i am ruined with sadness. one of the greatest loves of my life has moved out, leaving me surrounded by the pulsating residue of "us". baby, this is our furniture, its all in the same place, all smelling the same. the sheets are all full of your skin and the times we embraced in them. and i think about the good things, your boyish charm, your huge blue eyes tearing in the morning, your excitement over james brown, and the way you'd play with my hair in the car. i wish i could be angrier, because sure, there is plenty of shit to be angry about. but late into the relationship i learned to have faith and to try. and possibly, this was my downfall. you gave up a long time ago, and i'm not good at the letting go.

this morning, i leaned over and kissed you. i was surprised that you received it so well. for a moment it was as if nothing had changed. i felt unordinarily comfortable. suddenly i realized, with a stifled gasp, that it wasnt you. it was somebody else with your same facial hair when you're too lazy to shave. it was somebody else who could hold me like you do and mean it. it was someone, who, like myself, lacked love and needed it. anyway, the point is, it wasnt you.

you are my totem pole. my favorite tree in a forest full of them. you are so tall with such a little soul. you are smiling in every dream i have of you. we are children and the lawns are freshly mowed. we are small people with no past and i never have to act callous, as though i dont love you. as though, with all my obvious might, i could renounce these tears. in my memory of us, we are hiding in my most secret place. we have just discovered each other, and for the first time, realize the possibility of love.

Current Mood: weird

please check out my website, it's got a lot of my work on it and it's special to me.

http://aprilgastinger.carbonmade.com/

Current Mood: artistic

i am holding everything in my hands. i am seeing huge objects from a distance. often i realize....just taking it all in. sometimes i am so slow, with lobster hands, grasping at this or that. sometimes i am feeble, stubborn, ungracious, thinking god knows who understands my this or that. i think sometimes only you understand me, because when i was young (only you and only then) you could express the thick air that i couldn't break from. this sauna, like a big brown cloud tinting my view, skewing my neighborhood, this thing that words nor big thick books could ever tell. this thing like a loneliness that squeezes tight letting little room for deep breathing. this big black far wide empty that sounds with all its openness like a radiator hummmmm. i am holding everything in my hands. the smiles, the trees, the sorrows, every airplane that flies, and the wish that i could have done something...god, what a big breath i should have taken, what a broad arm i should have reached. but nothing could have held me, nothing could have caught me from the inevitable slip, the wide open fall. in my dream, you knew me. in my dream, you don't have to say anything twice. i know.

Current Mood: drunk

im a little egg again.
a tiny embryo that no one else can see.
i won't ever know how to be two again.
i guess forever
it's just little ol' me.

all this time spent wishful thinking.
now it's spring and i can finally see.
i promised not to let the lull of hibernation
over-comfort me.

oh god, i say,
please let this tiny bluebird
beneath my lungs
be free.



consider this a meditation on every spring and every relationship i become too comfortable in. consider this an attempt to reconcile the fact that i really am in love but i don't want to be here, feel weighted, cant seem to get my dinosaur ass out of this stinking tar pit. cant really believe in myself worth a shit. never could cuz mama never did. sometimes even clouds feel so heavy around me. and he says maybe its over, and i say nothing, because i love him, but maybe this is the only way i can leave. i think maybe it has to be.

Current Mood: sad

there is a valley beneath my heart where anything that tries will never fit.
and it makes every breath feel like the smallest tear.
but i've built a house within this round valley.
and soft dark birds land on it, and dirt and countless vines cling to it.
but nothing enters.
tonight, i put everything in it's place, and washed my hair, and invited you in.
but it seems that i am only one quiet whisper against the awful darkness of night.
and,i guess, you will never really know how much it meant to me.