Overlyemotionalmelodramatic
Take
the train
fly
off the handle
I
don’t care how you do it
Just
get here
Now
Everything
is so important
I’m
telling you to fucking do it
Now
because
the years make gaps
In
my teeth
Spaces
Indelible
Marked
with poison ivy
I have
random heart palpitations
I’m
not sure if any of this is fair
Pains
in your chest
Go
see a doctor
Life
is too fragile
Seventeen
If
I could do it over
I
wouldn’t
It
was perfect then
But
now is a has-been
Have
I ever tried to be less temperamental?
Have
I ever rode the back
of
a white horse
down
to the court house
Perhaps
in dreams I said, “Let them eat cake”
A
real B-movie version of Marie Antoinette
But
mostly I cried
Because
every bump in the road
Was
the apocalypse
Every
chip in my nail
Was
a chip in my shoulder
Every
highway sign gave me
A
panic attack which could later
Be
traced to my time-of-death
I’m
sure no coroner would even bother…
In
the living room—
Yellow
light shines
On
cigarette stained walls
You
click click click
With
your thumb…
Joystick
your way to
Beating
a level
As
I thumb my way to your heart
Click
keys with the precision
Of
a typist at an ad agency
But
what I write is even
Less
important
Days
slide into each other
Gloomy
or grey
At
times I have contemplated
The
inevitability of everything
The
scenes I can unfold
Like
origami and remember
Just
how to fold it the same way
All
over again
The
scenes we play out
The
roles I have memorized
And
the lines like Hersey wrappers
Like
gum wrappers with some girl’s
Name
and phone number written on
Them
in loopy cursive
We
unfold and re-fold again
Three-fold
is the rule
I’m
not sure the religion
I
have folded many holy things
On
days other than Sundays
I
am also very superstitious
But
basically just a snot-nosed kid
Who
gets overemotionalmelodramatic
When
things don’t go my way.
I
took a class on grammar and punctuation.
It
reminded me about important issues
Such
as the proper use of a semi-colon
And
a dependant clause.
I
still don’t know how to punctuate us
I’m
not sure if it should be a comma
Or
a conjunction…and….
Or
maybe just an ellipses
You
…
I
wish sometimes that you were ugly
So
I could make less shallow decisions
Your
eyes paralyze me
You
are my wet dream from when I was sixteen
And
my regression at 25
And
now I’m just trying to get tough:
Leather
jacket, red nailpolish, drive-fast,
All
night, smoker’s voice and the body of a
Stick-figure
But
who was that girl in the graveyard
With
the blue balloon
And
is her voice fading to a
Hussshhhh
Whisper
When
you were inside me
I was
thinking about a center
Opening
up
Not
all the fake façade shit we
Pretend
is important
No
one cares if you owned 12 pairs
Of
Nikes when you are dead.
I
know my voice, a chalking hallow
Of
a steel drum,
The
perfect needle scratch against
Parchment
The
thread that follows the needle
The
blood which precedes
I
need more than this language to get through to you
I
need more than syllables and
question
marks and
subjects
and
predicates
I
need more than Freudian memories
And
fatalistic delusions
I
need more than fear to light a match under me
A
certain roar from the tongue of God
I
need to drive far without remembering where I am going
Without
the sense to turn-back around.
1 comment:
that is serious!
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