Friday, April 23, 2010

11*22*09

hollowing out
moving on
feels good to feel this empty.

she hasn't been here in a long time. she's been
away
she's been with her. and that makes her different
made. made her different.
now she's not sure who she is. an other. someone referred to in the past tense.
someone referred to less and less often, until the stories aren't relevant.

until she's gone. not even the memory remains.

long ago and far away. they were sisters. she thought. she thought the wurd "friend"
didn't cover it.
wouldn't do justice to their bond.
sisters.
yes.
the sex was never that good. the physical aspect to placate. she didn't mean it.
she wanted to help her of course. of course! she knew she could open her eyes.
let her see herself the way she never had before. let her in on the secret of
self ((love)).
she loved her for who she was. then. at that point. in that time. in that life.
the sex ended and they were sisters. lovers of a different kind.
exploring. musick life ego scene thoughts ideas gods fashion lust drugs unity pain
ink eviction laughter death the other side of tomorrow. and love.

fast forward.

now stop.

where did it end? looking back she couldn't see the end. a destination wasn't clear.
no fork in the road. no u turn. no turning back.
just fog. soft fog. swirling like the stories that are no longer important. the
inside jokes
that she's now on the outside of.
the fog ascends and she's on the other side. somewhere.
she's moving on. and so it is. so it must be.

growing out of a friendship is not art. losing her sister to the
other
to the hollow part that once was

she doesn't have her anymore

but she is not alone

Friday, April 2, 2010

Leaning toward forever.

leaning on the kitchen sink in a nightie. Betsey Johnson peekaboo flats snug on her feet.
garter belt, check. thigh highs, check.
it's 2:30pm.
nov 14th. the window is open and the warm air makes her reminiscent . of what? who?
she inhales the sunny breeze. her hair, loose around her shoulders, floats lazily in the air like a copper cloud.
peter steele's voice caresses her. she feels happy. she feels complete.
she feels~

perfect

eyes closed, head turned toward the sky. mind devoid of the anxiety and misery
that's usually there
no clouds today
she loves the rain. but today the clear blue twinkling off the stars wrapped around the fence are much more.

more?
fitting. fitting her. filling her.

she leans to look at the street when the cars speed by. waiting.
he's on his way back
back home
on his way back home to her. his love fills the space around her. this reality is someone's dream
it must be.
heart beating out the rhythm of forever. calm peace serenity. not normal.
but neither is she.

this alien feeling of perfection is horrifying in its promise of forever. ascending.
ascension.
the cosmic realm drags her to where she needs to be.
can this be tomorrow? can it be today? can it be forever?
it's now.

and that's enough.


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