Friday, July 25, 2014

In these moments
I feel lost and hopeless,
I feel the need for arms telling me it's okay,
I feel the need for a hold to escape my reality,
A touch so intense I forget where I am.

I want so badly
to spread these feelings
over someone else,
To know what it's about,
What I am for all
& none to see,
What I am to you
& what I am to me.
I want to give that to you
but I am lonely and I am restless,
Kind yet reckless,
& scared of my potential;
My mind is the only fence I create,
& I'm so lucky that's the case,
So lucky I knew what love was
before it was ever a word in my world,
to translate word to thought,
to action,
to state of being,
& that's why
to me, and my world
life is worth living!

But
these moments
when I don't know
what to do
or who to see,
or how exactly to be me....
These moments
when I search not for resolution,
but feeling,
feeling connected,
feeling close,
When I can't do anything but hold myself,
my breath,
my hopes,
these moments,
are just for me.


You don't wanna think.
You wanna drink,
You wanna smoke,
You wanna do coke,
You want my legs around your back.
You wanna call me past midnight
& see if that's alright,
But I don't answer you,
I don't make it happen
Though we both know
It feels like forgetting pain,
It feels
Better than expected
& after
Never the same.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

These are not the stories I will tell my children or grandchildren....Maybe when they're older...like the age I am now. I'm 26? What, no way.

I have been wading in options, bored, heart broken, bored. I have been too open and vulnerable, too callous, too flighty, too flakey, too anaytical, not analytical enough. All of these mistakes are collecting into walls around my heart. Naked Miley Cyrus riding a wrecking ball knows whats up when she talks about Liam knocking all that down. (Sorry that's just where my mind went for a second.)

All this makes me sound shallow, overly fixated on sex, and I am to an extent, but at the core of me, I want romance. I don't mean in a classic way, being courted I guess. I just want to be taken away by storm. The issues with stormy whirlwind romances though are that they can end just as abruptly. The last relationship I had was an exciting tornado that came into my life and disappeared. Call me? No.

Maybe what I really want is the love that starts slow at the roots....then one day shakes my branches and shows me what was blooming all along...shows me more metaphors to think of and write down. I read something the other day though that kind of awakened something in me. It said something along the lines of "Often times people ask for what they want in a mate... they say I want them to be smart, funny, honest, loving...etc. But rarely do we say I want to give this person this, I want to be this for/with this person, share this with them." And it made me think of how selfish I've been. I think this is the struggle of being 26. I still want to have fun, to go out, to be thrilled and excited, to be teased by mixed messages and feelings....yet I want someone I can rely on and you know, actually talk to about real things. Half of my friends are already getting married, the other half are going to drug filled music festivals and losing shit (I went to EDC too, and lost my phone...)

My vision for the future, though blurry, still tells me I will be happy, I will be okay. Facebook and all of it's wonderful sugary surface perception of things makes me feel somehow not caught up. I'm just floating along though. I don't feel 26. I don't feel like I have to get married or have babies anytime soon. I am a pretty kickass babysitter though, so I feel happy for people around me that do want these things. I've just always sort of been in the pull between things...that's just me. I'm an outgoing introvert. A selectively social clown. Passive aggressive. Sensitive and harsh. Maybe these mistakes that I think are collecting into bricks around me are just leading up to a higher view. I can keep going and make things better. I can get to where I want to stop and look and everything before just makes the view more beautiful. I can write and write and write and hope that someone hears me.
You didnt say anything when you came to the door. You just started kissing me and it felt right...I wanted to but wasn't sure if I should. So you decided for me. The night before you sounded so pissed off. At everything. Everyone. I didn't feel like I was speaking to the same person. You sounded so mean....I knew you told me you were going through a lot but you actually didn't really tell me anything. You honestly sounded crazy and fucked up on the phone. Now that I think about it I would have preferred that fire to the cold you became.

You started kissing me and then we sat on my couch and we didn't talk about the things we should have talked about. We had some small chat bullshit. Conversations that weren't dishonest...but didn't feel open. Everything was glazed over. But I was looking at you as I often liked to do, because those pretty thick eyelashes could cut across a crowd for me. So I watched those pretty eyes and lashes peek up, over, and down my thighs and over my stomach but I didn't know it'd be the last time. We congratulated ourselves for great sex. We celebrated with Mexican food and laughed about all kinds of things. "I forgot what it was like to be with you..." you said smiling at me and I smiled back over my drink (Mexican Painkiller). I was so happy to make you laugh! You had been gone for awhile in Oregon dealing with details you wouldn't completely share, but I knew they weren't good. You were acting so strangely though that I never knew quite what to say or how to act around you.

We had great sex and great food and never talked about any issues. The next morning we were in my bed and I was comfortably tangled around you. You casually mentioned that you were going to go away for awhile...maybe move up North somewhere...maybe...wait..what the fuck? I stop you.
"What do you mean?" I ask with a confused pang in my pitch.
"Yeah", you say, like it's nothing. So I try to just as casually get out of bed and start making breakfast. But this won't work. "So like, when would you go..?" All I was met with was I don't knows and I'm not sures, and in a few months, for awhile. Nothing that sounded especially good to me. Vague statements hanging in my ears.
"Don't you want to be with me?" I ask but unwillingly feel the answer.
"I'm here, aren't I?" As if just your physical presence here is a grand gesture. Not what I was talking about...but you know that.
"Look, I don't really know where I'm gonna end up. Is it worth it to you to be with a guy who doesn't know where he's gonna be in 2 weeks?"
"Yes! Fuck me, right? Once I like someone...once I want something...."
"You want it." You say, and the loving looks are falling off those awful eyelashes that won't leave my heart alone.

After awhile of talking in these painful circles I just want you out. Maybe you sense this because you start to grab all of your things. Wait I changed my mind, please stay. But you were being so fucking confusing it makes it easier...and I didn't think that'd be the last time I'd see you. How dare you jump ship and not ask me to swim with you. Drown eventually probably but... fuck! Fuck you! You pursued me...you said even if I had a boyfriend you wouldn't care and would do whatever to get me. Where is that person now? I'm pleading with you to stay and you turn around and look at me sharply before you walk out of my door and tell me to just let you mourn. I feel like an asshole but I'm upset. You made me feel dumb for getting upset..."We've been together for what, 2 months?" Well yeah but...I thought I could love you someday...You made it sound so stupid. How can you just go? Not talk, bye. I brought this up while we were arguing because most of the time I felt in the dark while you were going through things. "But we will have all kinds of miscommunications and misunderstandings if we don't talk!" I cry out.
"I don't talk, I don't do that." you say to me. And as much as I want you stay, I don't want to be with someone who will just leave like that. No trying to figure out the other person. Assuming everything and nothing. Strange looks and words and feelings. What the fuck do you mean? Who are you?

This was not the guy who made me pancakes every morning, who got me things for the sheer thoughtfulness of it, who wanted to eat all of me up and often. Not the guy who handmade me a valentine and had his mom fedex me her delicious banana bread from Hawaii....but I honestly wonder how much of this or you was true. I want to believe everything and yet I don't. A couple weeks later you broke up with me on the phone. You sounded like a robot. You sounded like you didn't give a fuck. You said it wasn't me. You started sounding more annoyed. Click. That's it.

"Oh you couldn't tell that guy was an asshole?"  said one of my friends who's girlfriend used to be your coworker.
"What, no....I thought....I guess not."

"I think he's a mover."

"Like moves from place to place? I think probably a sociopath then..."

"Yeah. I mean he was really handsome and charming. Really smart too. There was just something not right there. Off."

I guess I'm impressed I made you stay for as long as you did then. I don't even know if that was you though.




Saturday, July 19, 2014










The look in your eyes 
is a vacation 
a postcard;
it's not real.
But I escape
in fleeting highs,
I let you sink in for a time.
I know I won't stay here
because if I start to
you're already packed 
& a world away. 


bff

You were drunk.
& peeing.
& crying.
I stood in the doorway to watch this toilet sinking ship.
"Youre just leaking everywhere!" I joked.
You laughed, hugging yourself;
the ultimate release.
Then you forgot your laughter
& went back to moaning.
"I'm not worthy of being lovedddd," you cried.
& wailed,
mascara lightning bolts down your cheeks.
"Oh shut the fuck upppp," I said.
"Would you listen to yourself? I'm not worthy of being loved..
what bullshit!
You are more than deserving,
so just stop it."
Then you started to laugh again.
"Maybe I'm just being a liiiiittle bit dramatic," you said.
& we laughed and I helped you up off your ass.
You flushed away some of your misery.
I forced you to eat some microwaved tortellini
& we watched that awful show you love
 & you fell asleep.
If that's not love I don't know what is.

about an ex

It's funny thinking about 
all of the feelings I've placed upon you.
All of the emotions & adjectives 
I decorated you in.
In my mind sprang a memory,
a poignant one to keep;
I remember you holding me
when I cried about leaving my childhood home.
We were in my room
for one of the last times
& you were rocking me like a little girl,
because I was your girl,
all of me & my memories,
you were loving me,
as a mess,
as a confession,
you were loving me.













I used to grab my mother's legs out of fear,
I was shy to the world without her near.
I would hide behind the fabric of her pants
& shut out the unknown in a concealed stance.
Friends with lovely soft, sweet faces
looked like threats in strange places.
These fears become heavier with the years,
they evolve to me leaving before there are tears,
leaving before it ends,
before the other comprehends
that I'm just scared.

.Laura Curren. 

Timing part II

Timing can make you laugh, but if it's not right, the joke is cruel.

So I was kind of obsessed with the thought of meeting someone in a random place. I found myself looking for somebody in the check out line, the treadmill next to me, my coffee cup.  I wanted a moment when someone discovered me-their thoughts were so interrupted by me, this woman who seems so fascinating and surely must be approached because who knows when she'll be around again. The problem with this is that if you are looking for someone to say that, it loses the whole discovery appeal. It might make you pull a Christopher Colombus and say hey this isn't really what I was looking for but I'll take it and even fake it by giving it a label it shouldn't be.

So I felt myself pining and I wanted to shove this feeling down from my searching eyes and keep them looking straight ahead. But I have googly eyes for love. I'm cross eyed for the shit. I cant keep my head on straight when I'm always turning it in somebody else's direction. I know this pulls me away from my own reflection. I know I am a fool for romance...but I admit I like to be fooled by it. It's something to write about. So I just tried to do my thing. And things were done. I went to the gym after working late at night. Single whatever, my ass looks great. So after sweating out some troubles, I went to sit in my own hard earned sweat in the steam room. I went in there but something was wrong. No curling clouds of steam, just stagnant dull air. Actually it smelled like hot ass. So then you came in- ducked in, because you're tall. Oooh hey, nice and tall. And you smile and say "hey, it's not working."

"Oh shit I was wondering!- I thought so...It smells fucking terrible in here."
You laughed and went back out to the hot tub you were originally sitting in. Thanks for getting up to tell me. Then I go sit down in the hot tub to tell you my name. You know my old friend/acquaintance and you're sitting together so this gives me an excuse to talk to you. My old friend is trying to talk to me more. But I want to talk to you. Old friend gets my number. But I want you to get it.

A week or so later I happen to finish my workout again at the same time you do but this time you are by yourself in the hot tub. Normally I would go to the steam room first but I dip in next to you. We talk for awhile amidst jets and relaxing strangers. I can tell you're staying longer to talk to me. I'm turning wrinkly because I like the way our conversation flows. I like those pretty gray green eyes and your tattoos and how tall you are. I like how you answer my questions and seem a little shy but comfortable around me. You seem deep. I like that you lit up a little when you saw me. I saw something dance under those eyelashes. I saw something. So we talked for a little too long. You smoke, I smoke, and we could smoke together so I use this as an excuse to take this conversation to a real place. "I'll give you some if you want," you tell me. I say yeah I'm running low (not really) so we plan to meet up at my car outside. I put on my change of clothes and take my hair down. I try to look pretty. I try to see me as you would. I see you coming towards me at my car. I'm kinda excited for you to see me looking like I do outside of hair thrown up, wearing my mismatched bikini in a hot tub full of wild card characters. A stew of sweaty strangers. I see you walking toward me. So tall! I imagine being scooped up in those arms. Take it easy brain/vagina I say to myself. But my mind has fantasies to enjoy, so be it. So you sit In my car and give me a fun lump of weed and I give you some money and a charming smile.
I say in my best cool casual way, "Well shit man come smoke with me sometime." But I'm not just gonna give you my number. There's a small pause and then you say "Well do you want my number in case you need some weed again?" "In case"-so safe.

I reply confidently, "Yeah. There you go." Then later I text you and thank you for your green sacrifice. We end up texting back and forth for the night. It's cool. I like it. It's easy to talk to each other.  I think about hanging out. Then I think about how perfect the timing was. I almost didn't go to the gym because of other plans but those fell through. Those fell through so I fall a little for you. I think how perfect that I happen to finish working out at that time. How perfect that you live in walnut creek and work in Danville near me. What great timing for this moment to happen. A couple days later I have a rare day off and ask what you're doing. Working. Ah man too bad I say because I want a partner in crime to come to Berkeley with me. So I say aw too bad cuz I'm going to Berkeley blah blah something something please think I'm cool and cute. But you never respond to that. Aw fuck then. I let it sit. Stew like strangers in a hot tub.

      I see you again a few days later. Well I see you playing basketball from the large glass window in front of the stretching mats/ballerina type bar thing looking down on the court. I throw one leg up on the bar and touch my toes. I lean longer than usual because I'm watching you pretending to be very involved in my stretch and not to watch you. I kind of think you see me. Or saw me and are now pretending not to know that I'm up above testing those hamstrings and secret spying looks. I also think you see me up there because you make a basket and hold onto the hoop dramatically like you own the court. You're currently owning it for me but still, I can't help but think Oh look he's showin off. How cute. But I'm also being a bit of a snob from afar because you never got back to me that last time. So I pretend like I'm not looking. I smile and lean to the side and avert my gaze. I have better things to look at I'm trying to say with my ankle resting up in the air. I don't need to look at you. But if I like something, its hard for me to hold back. A blessing and a curse. The right people love it. So I text you again a little bit afer this passive aggressive exchange that may have only been an exchange in my head.
"Hey you wanna smoke with me?"

No response for a little while. Oh great, oh well, oh this oh that. But! Oh! You do respond. Not just a short response but a well thought out one with proper grammar. I'm enamored. While reading it though, I find it sliding down to a point I didn't want it to go. Can't we go back up? You say you do want to hang out but don't want to give me the wrong impression. You have a girlfriend. You think I'm very attractive, down to earth, and easy to talk to. But you have a girlfriend. You say you didn't mean to be rude and cut me off because you think I'm pretty cool. You think I'm "really hot" and you say you guess you got "a little caught up" and you're sorry. I tell you I think the same of you and I appreciate your honesty. I tell you I'm always down for more friends and sorry if I came off as too aggressive. You tell me you can't lie, the aggressiveness was a turn on. that I threw you off a little. You'd still like to be friends though, and talk at the gym. I don't respond. Maybe another time.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

8 second poem

dont you wanna
meet me
taste me
date me
taste what i taste
see how i feel about your flavor
see how we mix
how will it taste
what are my tastes
will you try them too
try me with you