The Alone Position No. 2

This is the hour I need
The most
I need the most from someone
The most holding
And patting
And soft, murmurs of reassurance
That I can get
This is the hour that I need
To experience the most
Because no matter when this hour comes
It always comes when I am alone
It is the worst
And it haunts me like nothing else
And it always comes.
This hour
So I sit here
And I realize
After smelling his t-shirt
And looking at old pictures
And wondering why I have enough estrogen to hate this feeling
But not enough to cry
I realize
That I am not alone
In this depression
Because this is not a new depression
It isn’t one of modern medicine
And there is nothing I can take
Nothing I can
Discuss using ‘I statements’ with a therapist
That will make it go away
Until it is ready
And I realize this while listening to heartbreaking instrumentals
“Nadia’s Theme”
“Wings”
“Pucchini’s Waltz”
“Eyes on Me”
This
Heartbreak
This thing has been around for centuries
This thing has been around as long as love has
And suddenly the room is filled with
Allen Ginsberg, Andy Warhol, Ani Difranco, Alexander the Great, Aileen Wuornos
Lucile Ball, Lysistrata
Oprah
Nadia, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Nancy Sinatra
Ellen Degeneres, Ellen Barkin, Elizabeth Taylor
And I do not feel alone
I know they are with me in this struggle that does nothing
Other than place me in a category of humanity
Where my only option is to mourn the loss
Of what I was still planning
Hoping
Of doing with my lover
And the loss
Of what I was planning
On doing
In my own life
Before he came
And went
And knowing that now is a time to analyze what I am
And what I am not
As made certain by this inevitable journey
Then get back to what I was planning
On doing
Before he got here
Before I left
And since I’ve come
To this new place
Filled with the faces
Of invisible broken hearts

Gasping

I don't speak much about my nipples rings.
I rarely say it at all.
My nipples are pierced.

When I turned 18 they were all I knew I wanted
Since then I have gotten 6 tattoos
All that I believe in
As images that did not push
And insist
Themselves into my skin
But
Snapshots of my story
And the part of myself
That is deepest inside of me
Pictures that traveled all the way from the center of me
And then burned themselves onto me
From the inside out.

But those came later
With thought
The nipple rings
Came first
With feeling

Because a body that has chosen

To pierce a hole
And accept
And grow with
A choice to add a twinkle
Of metal
To catch the sunlight

That body
Has lost its chance
With time
To illicit the same reactions
Of bewilderment
Causing housewives to clutch
Their pearl necklaces
That it has had
In the past

And yet a simple studded earing
With a simple little diamond
Not even a giant gapping hole
In the ear of a teenager you know
Will live to regret it later
Is ever the same in substance
Because unlike the

Nipple ring

Another modern pierce will
Not
Turn
You
On

as a concept, alone.



And then make you shake your head
Because you didn't choose that thought.

Because that thought does not fit with the current
Immediate
Moment

I am tanning at the suburban neighborhood pool
I am changing, backstage
I am mowing my lawn

And that moment
That creates a feeling
You have no choice
But to shake away

Is the essence
Of every bit
Of my performances
No matter how
They are performed

I'll say that its attention
That I need
If that makes it livable
For others
But I will always know
That I need
More than just the stage
I need a crowd
That is gasping.

The Slump

I try a lot of things in my
Aesthic presentation
That are irregular.
I do these things
Because
I have been blessed with a creative eye
In all areas
That I experience. I try things
Based on how they affect me
Unlike the unfortunate masses who are
Doomed
To listen
And consume
But never produce.
This mindset sets me
In the category of creation
Which is not a given
Of humanity alone.
And when I fail to express the message of
My look
I fall hard
And find it easy to
Remember the process of unpopularity
Because the oppositions to my choices
Are from those who formed
A deep opinion
Quickly
From my presentation.
However,
Remember.
When I perform successfully, I do so
In a way that creates an artistic ripple
Around me
That influences many
And changes the lens
In which all of my peers
View the general aesthetic of our time.
I am a creator.
And so much so
That even when I create
The bounds of what is acceptable
By showcasing what is not-
What is over the line
I am still fossilizing
What exists
And holding steady
The path for which all current influencers
Are herding those masses.
I am not a lethargic person.
I never sloth.
And the next time I
Pursue
Entirely
A detailed memorization
Of that which holds me back in expression
And suffer
From that which is otherwise
A rhythm of life
To be respected
I will remember the times in which
I am gifted
The reward of living
As an inspiration
Holding up the slump
Of an obedient otherwise.

One Hand

This is the sound of a one-handed poem
See, I will love you with one hand tied
If that’s what part of me needs to believe
If there is a section of my domestic
Ikea, lunch break, levelheaded, adult decisions
Paranoid brain
Always obsessed with assurance that I am maturing
At an acceptable rate
That has to believe that accepting every single term
Of our love
Means somehow that I am tying back an arm
I will take that
Because that is the arm that swings wildly in the air
With all of my Italian gusto
My redneck dramatics
And my artistic, undiagnosed creative sensibilities
That never seem to make up their mind
About who I am today
That is the arm that cannot yet trust
That a love this deep is real
Because it is far too used to fighting back
To get used to the idea
That I have nothing to fight back against
Because even the worst of us
Is wrought with an overwhelming
Undertone of total, and complete love
The kind of arm that needs to sit down,
Shut up,
And accept you
I will tie down that hand
And use the other to speak to you only in calm love
Because I know that no matter what my guarded ego
Tells me
The vulnerable portion of my heart that is locked inside a treasure chest
Deep inside an ocean somewhere
Is not just the side of me I am scared of you rejecting
It is the side of me I need to show you
The most
With my hand untied
I give you the key
And the map
To that part of myself
And I give you my blessing
To seek and find
Please
Go quickly
Because you might have noticed I live inside of a beat
That may be precious and frail
But is not soft and sweet
Because it is a beat so quick
That it might be mistaken as youth
It is not my youth
It is the speed in which I seek
And find

And baby,
I know now that with you I can keep that speed
Because you will
Come to know
That I love you
Just as hard as I fight you
And while you are addicting
To the point of tears and withdrawals
To every single man you meet
And most of all to me…
I, too, am the highest
You have ever felt
In a way you cannot live without
And our powerful affects
On one another
Are a constant
No matter how at peace we are
I have a techno, house, choppy
Electronic, post-Bush
Present day, hypnotic beat
Rhythm to my life
And you are a remixed collage of beautiful
Noise repeating within it
Like it or not.
But baby,
You only need to love
Your promotion to percussion in my life
Because you sound like an angel
Like an angel minced among
This slideshow of my life, repeating
I am willing to forego the parts of me
I am not certain of
In sacrificial respect of the parts
I know to be as certain as a global rotation
That also exists inside this poet
When you set ablaze the fiery tween girl
Inside me spewing out Seventeen magazine
Relationship quiz advice
You have not
You never can
Burn that actual epic frontier lover
That waits in front of a breathless horizon
For his soul mate to return from
Whatever has separated us
I used to remain inside
But now
We remain inside
Underneath every scar of uncertainty
And cracks of broken
That will exist over time
I know to be certain
Only a few things
Strong enough cause me
To tie down my hand
And bite my tongue
In order to
Once and for all
Let my heart do the talking.