November 5, 2013

Boo




i was thinking of halloween. i was wondering if i spelled it right. i was thinking of the rage of man. you wouldn't understand it unless you were in my head. my heart was open last night, i had a long talk to her about it, i said, girl don't be foolish, love can't exist. and here we are. you and me. we can't be what we wanted, that's obvious. can we get into daddy issues now or should we wait? we could tear each other's clothes off or laugh until we cried, but instead we pretend we don't feel it.

i had a boyfriend once. everytime we made love i thought of my father. he is the only man where that happened. i had to break up with him right away or i'd be some kind of perv and i'm pervy enough all on my own.

do you remember sneaking up to a girls door and putting a flower on it? before stalking existed?

you told me you were suffering, but does that mean you are still talking to somebody? i hope you are. like in my dream where no one is talking but we are still communicating while lying on our pillows in our separate houses, thinking no one can read our minds.

in one dream, you were on a video screen talking to me. i think it was from this story you told me where the person can write into another person's thoughts. you were talking to me quietly, you were being held prisoner, but somehow managed to tell me things. it was good to see you. it had been too long.

then later. i was drinking trying to make the drinks not be drinks. but they were. this guy who asked me to marry him from across the pond was sitting there and was telling me how i was some kind of fraud but i was cuter than in my videos. i just knocked the drinks back and back and back. i called you. i asked you what was a number between one and 100 worth remembering. what was a feeling worth remembering.

you didn't answer the way i wanted you to. i wanted you to say, listen, come over i'll rub your head while you sober up. i'll read you a story. the one i told you about where the kids live in a village and they learn about sexuality but in a purer way that we learn in the village called America. but, instead you just say something that requires no answer. it wasn't even a number. i made it sexy cause i wanted that, but it wasn't like that. it was like saying CANDLE and then making that into DO YOU WANT ME TO COME FUCK YOU. it is the way my brain works. i had forgotten you were a prisoner and not allowed to say whatever you wanted. i had forgotten our code CANDLE meant god, i miss you.

it wasn't the guy calling me today saying, please tell me when i can see you and me going, soon. soon. soon. but, really?

i don't know how to do anything. i'm afraid of hurting him. he promises i won't hurt him, but i'm still afraid i will. i hurt people. on accident. if i get naked in his bed and we exchange our hearts we will be hurt. so just roll in leaves and crush them and say you like it and forget people. people cry when they crush. leaves just make a crackle then it's over. people take longer. the first cut, then the second cut, then the third cut, then the realization that this isn't going to last. then it keeps going. sometimes for months. sometimes it never stops. sometimes it stops in a day and fucking was all that it required to make it stop. but you can't count on that. can you?

stop doing that to people. open. shut. open. shut.

the last guy did this didn't want to be friends, but i tried to. i guess it was insulting to him when i said, if you are scared to fuck me at least lets be friends. our brains and hearts like one another. but he didn't want to. he just wanted to be mine. and i couldn't do that. or he couldn't. all i know is someone couldn't.

how can you really? when you have that kind of chemistry? you can't. so, i keep checking in with myself going, is there a tree with a fruit and a name of a fruit that i shouldn't have eaten and is that tree you? and can't we go back somehow to where our bodies didn't know what it would be like?

he told me he writes, but i wasn't allowed to see any of it. he told me we'd be friends but then didn't tell me anything. i realized he wasn't what he was those thousands of pages on IM.

i want to see inside of your heart. to me, that is friendship. to you that makes a bond or makes you nervous or whatever. or create a deep disappointment. i crave you to disappoint me.

everytime i see you i want to fuck your lights out on the floor. right there and i have to act cool and i'm not feeling that. i'm feeling. fuck this thing. fuck it.

can i say all this without you gettting mad? you wouldn't be nervous if you just acted normal. like if you'd just let me see whatever dark thing it is. it won't scare me. i've lived a life of dark things. i've fucked my boyfriend seven times a day because we were on lots of drugs. i've locked the door on people because we'd go dark and i only wanted light. i've hated birds because their songs were too loud. can you imagine hating birds? they are beautiful. how can someone with a real heart hate them. well, i have. drugs do that to you.  i've been happy when bad things happen to people who hurt me. you think you are purer than me because i admit these things to the world. but you aren't. you are way worse. you think sex is bad. when only lying is.

do all guys only like you because of your tight vagina? or because you were a dancer? or because they think they'll get sprung. nobody likes a sprung dude. that just seems backwards.

someone will ask me about why i am not using capitals and let me say, it's Halloween or Holloween or the harrowing of the hallows. don't ask the mundane on this day or you will be cursed.

back to me--you are too shut off. i am too open, like as per usual.

i told you guys from a certain continent don't like me, or like me too much or hate me. that doesn't matter, i'm in love with somebody else. also from that certain continent and he's been showing up lately. he isn't handsome  like i remember or even tall. but we'd kiss and laugh until 7 in the morning. he was the last person i had chemistry with.

he looks great in photographs.

we were like children. he told me everything. he told me about the girl before me who had a pound of cocaine in her freezer. he was the last person i fell for. i'm still in love with him, so you don't have to get any crazy ideas. want to know why? he was honest. he opened himself up and showed me what was in there and he told me, "if i fall for you, i will run and you will think you did something, but it's just what i do." he wrote long letters to me on the daily. this guy also said i made him nervous. nervous about what? i would be sad if things didn't work, but i'd want to keep him as my friend. he was my smartest most funniest friend. i loved him. i know that isn't cool to say. but i love people and once i do it just gets stuck like that.

he ran. then talked shit and like that. i did think it must have been something about me. three of his friends came after me. it was world-class asshole-ville but LA-style.

but god, i miss him. i miss his words. i miss him telling me his stories, even though he was too scared to let me read any of them.

before that there was a guy. i was engaged to him. our bodies fell in love. then he started using drugs again. he's doing that now. we aren't connected anymore, so it doesn't hurt like it did when we were together.

do you remember being open? and how you could tell the whole world anything? that was before you were going to die. do you remember knowing that you could die and you'd never see the people you loved again? do you remember being scared as fuck that you'd lack the words to communicate what you felt in your heart and your girl would be so sad or a girl you left would be too sad and they'd be dead before you knew it and all you would have had to tell them was you were too scared or insecure or liked somebody else?

you and i met. you came to me and were open. you told me your fears and how hard it is for you to get close to anybody. i wasn't banking on anything. i had seen you for months and you were too surrounded for me to talk to.

i'm not like the other girls. that's  the part i keep forgetting. part fairy dust part i'll fuck you up.

so you shut me out. not only out of who you are, but out of all you do. i get these one sentence texts from you sometimes. i watch you fall in love with every new girl you see. but i don't care about those things. i care only about your heart. but, since we aren't going to fuck and we aren't going to cry in each others arms and we aren't going to be normal friends where i make a costume for you and make you wear it.

instead i'll tell a story.

it was halloween. the ghost was following me down vermont saying things like, why don't you just get a job already, this is boring. i said---and please listen, because i am not a ghost, i am a human. my soul isn't like yours. i need human touch and companionship. i die working for the man. i don't have a solution yet. i'm working on it. "work on it when you're living in your car, whatever happened to acting?"

the ghost was laughing. remember me telling you that ghost laughs are totally fun? they lift you up and out of your body where you feel like a balloon. you float up and out and look down and you go, what the fuck. i don't need humans. not when i have a ghost.

halloween is supposed to be all ghosty, but my ghost goes, halloween is like amateur night, like as in if you drink a lot or party all the time so is New Year's Eve. these ghosts that don't know what they're doing come up and they lurk you so you get all scared. but, they aren't adept. they are just players in a great big game no one has an answer to. oh, and like you're the ghost who has all the answers? and then the ghost stops me, i don't know how something made of vapor can do that. i guess it's the same with thoughts or love or a feeling. the things you can't see are the most tangible.

do you remember when you were engaged to that crack addict? the one from ireland? he lived with that giant fat lady and he'd fuck her and not you because the emotional risk was too much for him? but you'd get drunk and he'd read the bible to you and tell you how you couldn't suck his dick unless you were married cause jesus wouldn't approve and you just sat there going, this guy is going to die an awful death and i'll say yes just to fuck him but it won't matter in the end cause he looked so sick the last time you saw him you were glad you never touched him even though at the time it was the REAL DEAL LOVE?

this ghost had been around during all the fake engagements. during the real ones. during the guys who lived here, during the guys i said, i don't love you anymore. i never loved you, i just needed you and now i don't. sorry. the sex was fun. you cook great. i don't cook, so it's good someone did or we would have died. i loved you and now i don't.