temporary departure

because i can never say goodbye...
its time i leave with a warm smile and happy heart ... and one last thought
let us be happy for the beginnings, as all things come to an end

stop shaking me!

stop this wretched twist you do at my wrist
the pull
the push
the spiral rabbit hole i fall
climb then claw
back on my mountain top again
now pull me back down
why dont you!
why dont you!?

push me

tinge of devil

i could wrap you in my cloak
but i swing it in fury
dance it at your lips
at the very fingers you reach from

circling your words with yours again

let us share what we both know
i am no pot of gold
we can say it out loud...

we expect failure and nothing more

lovely ladies will avenge my sorrows

September


October


All i need now is Miss. Brandi Carlile in November ;)

drum drama dram dumb

there is that drum again... pecking at my peg-legged drumstick. carrying on about its latest bass encounter. my feet seem to catch that proper beat.
AND
a nod of my head, i float to its vibration and get caught in drum drama. pitter patter, my heart goes thump. filling me with drams for easy feet and open legs. lets get going drummer boy in your dark chocolate skin.
be my dumb for tonight and i'll be your no-drama.

c'mon.. fishy fishy

I want to be the small fish
take this authority away from me
bind me and grapple this  power i have
let me kick and struggle my limbs away
i have the will to be will-less
the conscious to be left unconscious
a temporary defeat
a moment of pure sacrifice
...
you don't have it in you
the very rifle i'd use to kill
you shudder at it
and i stroke its barrel
...
but this fish has been wrong before.

drums, silence this violin

i've looked away from our sunny days
and taken a long walk through thorny trees
my clothes ripped, feet tired, mouth dry
a weak smile up to the moon
it smiles back and offers me a different day

Our coop makes it to sunny state, los angeles city

:) just a cute update on coop adventures
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

This "nothing"

I miss the rothko chapel in a time like this. Getting lost in its silent black womb. Suppressing my soul enough to quiet my nerves.
Maybe it was the sunshine that I'd return to that would lift my soul. The green grass and large pecan tree field. Piano's museum gleaming clean..my first love affair with architecture.
This was my stop after the bus ride, but before my nude figure drawing class.

Now I ride the subway straight home. Something's gotta change.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Call me a hater

Cause I don't mention in passing what I do...
what I do?
I drink
I smile
I love
I create
And I try my best not to grow bitter.

I'm a stripper... Not believable?
Ok
How about...
I'm a social worker?
Oh! That works for you?

Sigh... Hipster boys really need to stop thinking tight extra sagged skinny jeans is "hip".

-end of rant
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Lover's aching feet

I will stand by you through this.. My soft breath and gentle voice will soothe you.

There is a rumor that americans work too hard and don't enjoy life. I think the italians started it. Nonetheless, my lover has lost his way into a cliche.


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A tinge of sour grape

It was obvious she was allowed to dress herself that day. Yellow minnie mouse leggings, pink and white snoopy sneakers, green socks, plaid skirt, pearl necklace, white fur shaw and a red and white bandanna at her head. She accidentally grabbed at my calf when the train jerked, careless that she didn't know me. Naturally, my hand immediately fell to protect her faulty foot-work. She didn't seem to mind, being easily distracted by a burly man sitting down. We both looked at him for a bit. He was nodding off as I felt a cramp shoot through my stomach and the girls mom tugged at her hand for the next exit.
I think it made me wonder why she wasn't mine.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

point of not return

"i have to get my shit together" thought the girl as her heel pressed into her paying customers shoulder. go back to school. get that degree i took this job for.
a swirl and dip into his lap, noticing that the dirty bloke kinda smelled nice.
"ah, he's still sober" she thought.
i really do need to get my shit together.

my other element

as you know i'm madly in love with you
but sometimes i drown in it...joyously
like a bucket of water,
a bucket of your love pours over me
and i bathe in you
with sunkissed drops at my skin

8 years clean

I don't think i've ever really thought about it as a triumph, becoming "clean". Even the word clean is strange to me, as I'm still in a bit of denial that i was ever "dirty" enough. Heroine users go clean. Crack users go clean. Meth users simply aren't using at the moment. Maybe it's because I never used a needle in the entire 3 years.

When we decided to "stop", we did it as any meth addict would do anything...we over thought the process and we spoke about it for days.. we discussed the strategy thoroughly.
We'd previously discussed so many other things this way, none of which we accomplished.

It's hard to come to terms with people praising us on our stopping. I wish I knew what made us stop. i wish i had more to say than "we just made the decision to stop".