kangaroo hugs

and i want a cat to cuddle with when he's not here
kangaroo hugs ignite star fire displacement sadness
leave me still lonely
too much ice cream
a few too many dollars spent on past window displays
silly meandering
car rides full of air and all the breaths we forgot to take during the week
every gust of wind carrying the tunes of our souls to far reaches of city sprawl
a few cylinders of smoke and squinting timewatch
heavy moviewatch droopy lids to eventual nap
and a song unfurls to narrate the inescapable truth of union
when development arrested lies in spectator spotlight
and our legs motion to dance to keep crowds appeased
when all else is muffled dispatched shredded
and reveals greenblack patterns and enormous cuffs
lemon ginger tea and upset stomaches
to remember what it feels like to not love
i don't care to
and they only care to hear frail floral shouts and sighs of dying fabric species
and we'll laugh our feline laughs howl to companions and moon mother
limbs entwine breathe as one munch on hairstring envision lemonade
create summer a few too many times before summer
kiss ourselves to sleep in the day's lull
and wait wait wait for the next for the passing for

if this is treatment

how is emotionless gray
different, better than
streams of whiteblue droplets
ribbons of crimson
brilliant sparks quickly fading
short half-lives
i ask because i don't know which way to go
which is best
i'm hated either way
seasons change and nature laughs
at me every time
every day different but identically horrible
it only takes the weight sustained in a second
a hesitant word, an ill-phrased message, a forced greeting
the endless eternities suspended
between kisses, glazed eyes, vehicles, generations
if this is getting better i think i want my illness back
if this isn't i think i want my illness back
i want my illness back
ill back to back plunged into pillow softness
stretched for angles
liberated ribs hands bodypart bodypart
and a rigid spine complaining about things the heart can't say
things that make the mind cower surrender relapse
moisture outside walls outside lids
inside canyon lies
what to fit into these spaces
flinging bottles bouncing surface to surface echo
voices of tomorrow warning of yesterday
plastic universes shatter the inhabitants dissolve in lava
godzilla dances donuts create cartoons sigh size up the gods
fling everything to hell to gutters to treetops to abyss of coatpocket
scatter and gather and throw into a pile with all articles of bullshit
molded television shows and pills and cigarettes and gummy nonsense we occasionally call food
preservation for whatwho
why did the blank cross the blank
why does everyone ever blank and blank and blank
a blink
and then it's all gone
a world crafted constructed erected manually disappeared destroyed silent
hissing fade slowing heartbeat vibrating memories
tears emerge from the coaxing city and feet respond
pitterpatter of truth sidewalk rhythm
the distant being strains to ignore
wraps up in blankets nestles into boy
ignorance isn't bliss...
i could go on forever
the problem is i could go on forever

update thing

though i can count the number of readers of this blog on my hand, i suppose a bit of an update is necessary. especially because i don't feel like sharing any writing right now.
i've spent the greater part of a week in the fetal position flooding myself in my own tears.
i keep contemplating cutting, suicide, running away.
i need to stop blaming myself, stop hating myself. i'm not weak.
i haven't showered since saturday.
i think i'm falling in love with a boy. or perhaps i'm already there. i don't know.
i don't remember the last time i had a full, uninterrupted night of sleep.
i'm on new medication.
i'm getting fat. (sort of. my perception is sort of fucked up.)
instead of driving to nowhereforever this afternoon, i went to my appointment with my therapist and had a bit of a breakthrough. i feel okay for right now.
but also anxious anxious anxious. i need to get out.
my journal is an absolute mess of sad thoughts, strange dreams, words to people i'll never utter out loud.
i lay in bed and watch movies, drink tea... but today i saw a glimpse of the future i had once dreamed a long time ago. it may not mean much, but at least i'm starting to see it again.
that means a lot to me. to someone like me. with disorders like mine that make even the next few hours impossible to imagine, see, trust, believe in.
i haven't had a sudden epiphany, and everything isn't magically in place, but i feel okay for right now.
this will probably change soon.
but that's okay.

we

weaved through aisles of food
rows of fruit, sweets, bread
he paused for a moment in the floral section
his eyes searched and his fingers plucked a single red rose
from the rows of roses
i smiled as he smiled as he handed the long piece of love to me
and we were off, weaving again
the cart grew less empty
every few suspended breaths lost in a sea of
plastic red green rosysmell
hungry fluorescent giggle limbs
rattling cart, judging eyes - teas and lasagnas and colanders on trial
breads hummus mozzarella, we ate a lot
nodded off to sleep as air played in the background and a mug cooled in a hand
cuddling isn't the worst way to spend all night and all morning
rib hello cat stretch
earl grey cigarettes silent nudges
inaudible roarous growling meowing licking animal yawns
comfortable and funny, bare and layered
wild wolves

i feel much better today, to say the least.

my boy drinking tea. his smile/expression/everything makes me smile.

3/5/11 pieces of my journal

home definitely brings out the suicide in me.