When I was small & more unsure
I pretended to be mad & smash my toys
when my dad was yelling everything out of of him.
Anger seemed better
than addressing the real fear
that love can scare you too.
I mimick the moods of the ones I'm with.
I'm sad if they're sad.
I try to understand
by feeling the same way too.
Lovers take notice.
I absorb too much or become aloof.
"Don't take it personally,"
Well I do.
"It's not about you,"
no- but I feel it from you.
Why even begin
& that fight in my head sometimes wins.
If I can't fix it I'll be it.

EDC 2014

I was on my own 
but my friends weren't far away, 
I liked being alone,
swaying my body around,
feeling the pulse of the crowd,
warm & thick with energy.
I was enchanted by neon lights
& fireworks in the sky.
Ferris wheels were turning in my eyes,
moving constantly like my feet.
My pupils cut through the crowd
to land on you
& tell you with no sound 
that you should come over here. 
You pointed to yourself 
to ask if that's what I really meant.
I laughed & nodded
so you came to meet my face
& ask if you could please 
dance with me.
You fit around me naturally,
your body felt right to me.
A kiss was as inevitable
as the flow between us.
You told me your name 
& I said mine,
you lived hours away from me
so we just sighed,
knowing names & locations 
& what we taste like, 
knowing
a moment,
a memory 
that plays like a song
pulling you towards something.

you're angry,
but we both cry.
we hold each other.
that's what we have right now.
& we know
when we let go
there is no tomorrow.

              
         You love the drugs of love,
       the waves of moods & longing,
      you love your pupils expanding with
           a vision of the future.
      You mix the heat of passion inside
       & the cold you have as fears from the heat 
        & you are the sea.
    Some ride or drown in it willingly.
       Those who can swim will seem to tame you
      but know you can swallow them whole.

Please don't let me be afraid of my talents
Because I'm afraid of being too much
I want to connect to people I've never met
I want to find peace in others like me
I want my universe inside
to collide with others

I will forget my keys 
or responsibilities- 
my memory seems 
to have no place 
for these practical things.
There is no space for simple tasks,
reminders fall off hooks 
& onto the floor,
but I still remember being four 
& seeing a red gummy bear
left behind in a planter box,
a limited edition,
gelatinous discovery 
with added pine needle texture.
This was rare because 
my mom was a nurse &
wanted only healthy things 
in our cabinets & tummies,
healthy-boring-thank-you-very-much-
from-an-adult-perspective things, 
so I knew in my head  
this was an opportunity
& even with a dirt marinade 
this gummy beast
would taste like magic, 
so I ate it!
unnecessarily crunchy & sweet 
& sticky & delicious,
red dye 40 stretched & sacrificed 
over my tongue,
a little bear spread 
over my little teeth, 
a taste bud & germ party,
suspiciously delicious but worth it; 
so now can you see
why it's so hard for me 
to just forget someone? 

The best compliment I've ever received

I was serving tables, getting paid for my smile, 

scraping my patience off of plates.

I was building a character to persuade the dollars 

out of your wallet. I was debuting small stand up routines 

& saying hello to your cute babies.

I was taking photos of your entire family 
& listening to your girlfriend bitch about the soup.

I was panicking about forgotten sides of ranch

or seeing exes & people from high school.

I was hooking your friends up with samples

& receiving passive aggressive pickup lines 
written on receipts with shitty tips. 

I was displaying my generosity & overall ability 

to be like a stripper with food.

I came up to the booth where a pleasant old man 

sat with his younger generations.

He stared directly at my stomach,

& I was thinking  

Do I have food on my shirt or am I bloated today...shit okay.

But I kept bringing plates & jokes.

I kept rushing around to small fractions 
of people's lives in their moments. 

I kept bending my arms & back to the shape of the trays,

holding the weight of drinks & expectations,

checking everyone's status. 

Every time 

the old man looked directly at my stomach.

When our time together was ending,

he said, eye level to my belly button: 

"You know, I'm blind, but I can just tell

that you're cute as hell." 

.Laura Curren.

Draft

I hang so much on moments-

so when it hurts they're heavier. 

I remember cleaning cobwebs from the corners of the house,

standing up on a chair,

a new perspective there,

& you looking up at me,

smiling meaningfully,

at least to me,

& you said: "We're living together."

Your grin stretched deeper

& I could ride those seconds 

for a lifetime if you let me!

but 

I played it cool 

even though

inside I was like a piñata full of glitter

bursting with obnoxious love!

exploding into absurd metaphors!

I was yours.  

Now I'm arrested by the triggers of the past;

by a time taken off the shelf 

to hold & look at 

& then put back.

I have a self destructive troll in my head

who smashes all the shit I'm supposed to do.

It says:

"Oh yeah go ahead, 

send that crazy message,

tell him how you really feel! 

Let your emails, real mails,

garbage, dishes, laundry

thoughts, wishes,

debt

pile up.

Beat yourself up with your own attitude 

then let me pick my teeth 

with the sticks & stones I throw at you.

Keep imagining me as a beast

fighting your dreams 

rather than yourself."

Maybe you'll wonder about me;

     if my laughter sings the same way,

     if I can still pull you tight inside,

if I changed my style

    or who I sleep beside. 

Maybe I'm in a place 

     where you can't reach me

     physically or mentally.

I'm a dream from the past, 

feelings that ask to come back, 

     like the fire in our eyes 

that makes the cold easier to face. 

But it was always me holding you;

      your back to my embrace, 

always my ear to your chest 

      listening inside,

making sure you were alright,

fighting your anxiety instead of mine,

      so I had to leave 

& you have to wonder. 

I'm avoiding myself so much lately 

it's like I'm being my own ex boyfriend,

it's like I want all the benefits of sex

but with a disconnect.

I can pretend I'm there

but my mind slips into the cracks of the Internet.

My fingers swipe left & right faster than my legs.

My face but not my brain is illuminated.

I am lost in 

my own fantasies, 

my couch,

my doubt. 

I don't see what's in front of me;

another dimension of intentions

waiting for active players 

all abandoning their apps, games, & chat 

looking up & into the eyes of reality. 

Over my shoulder I see you there,

glasses & crooked teeth,

in P.E. you stood next to me.

We talked for hours on our land line phones

about classes & annoying people,

awkwardly fitting in,

boys n' shit.

I was one of the few people 

you let over to your mom's apartment.

You were embarrassed but I liked it.

Your mom dated a man I never saw smile 

so we always cut past them instinctively 

& went upstairs to your room.

We went on aol instant messenger

the high school of online.

We tested social waters together.

We shared growing up at this point in time.

I liked the carpet & your cramped computer desk.

I liked feeling an energy not found in the very tidy & pristine 

because my home felt like that too; 

comfortable, not immaculately clean

but genuine & sweet.

We went to different schools 

but you still hid a birthday gift in my locker.

You shared real moments with me 

that could only be a part of my experience.

You helped with the ache of responsibilities

& I thank you for your presence,

but when I turn away from my shoulder 

& this moment of recollection,

away from these memories,

& I look at your face now,

that is not what I see.

There is no apartment,

no energy like that.

I literally can't afford your time

no matter if he's loving or anything.

Your clothing & accessories have to have brands.

You have to have.

Love is money.

You are possessed by possessions,

your goals are no longer what I expected.