She says, "say no once." And I nod like I understand. I back out of her driveway and drive backwards to my house. Going somewhere always takes longer. Coming back seems easier. I'm no fool, I know my way back home.
I know how to get there quick.
With her I try.
I spend one hour pushing myself to my max. Running in place never felt so moving.
I tire myself out, and to be honest I can get to Bathurst and still hear my lies,
Or the truth I wont speak.
"Yes," My nod agrees, "I will say no just once."
No.
Do not do this to me.
Do not make me watch those I love suffer.
Do not give me front row seats.
Do not make me look in the mirror and smile.
Do not leave me guilty for things I have.
No.
I can not say it
I can eat it. In double portions... with my favored feta cheese on top.
No.
I will not succeed.
I will exercise my hour away, but not the other 23.
No.
I can not do it.
I can not say no, not even once, out loud.
No,
No,
No.
It's so silent and pathetic the way "no" sounds in my kitchen,
With the sound of the oven humming,
and the dishes piled and discarded on my counter top.
No.
I did not say No even once today
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Bridge Over What?
You are my bridge.
I could not have crossed without you.
I knew what was on the other side. Like rainbows and fairy tales, I don't believe in other peoples shit.
But, your hair smelled so nice.
I wanted to only write about my sister.
And scream.
Because screaming would give me a voice that can't be misunderstood.
"So that's how you feel. Why didn't you just say so?"
Because, I can write about all my words, and all my pangs-
but my sister.
She is untouched.
You are my bridge.
And I have crossed sides.
I look back and I don't remember not having you.
Did G-D send you looking for me?
Somewhere there is a girl and she is lost.
Find her.
And bring her across.
You are my bridge.
My husband lets you walk me across.
Because he can't.
Because he loves me too much to watch me bleed.
So, I smile for him to see me smile.
And I walk like I have poise...
but you know better.
Don't you?
You know that I have clung to you and made it seem like you needed me.
And I have told you things with a sideways look,
because head on the lights always blind you.
You are my bridge.
But I have to go back.
Alone.
Did you know that?
That I would cross with you, but have to go back myself?
I could not have crossed without you.
I knew what was on the other side. Like rainbows and fairy tales, I don't believe in other peoples shit.
But, your hair smelled so nice.
I wanted to only write about my sister.
And scream.
Because screaming would give me a voice that can't be misunderstood.
"So that's how you feel. Why didn't you just say so?"
Because, I can write about all my words, and all my pangs-
but my sister.
She is untouched.
You are my bridge.
And I have crossed sides.
I look back and I don't remember not having you.
Did G-D send you looking for me?
Somewhere there is a girl and she is lost.
Find her.
And bring her across.
You are my bridge.
My husband lets you walk me across.
Because he can't.
Because he loves me too much to watch me bleed.
So, I smile for him to see me smile.
And I walk like I have poise...
but you know better.
Don't you?
You know that I have clung to you and made it seem like you needed me.
And I have told you things with a sideways look,
because head on the lights always blind you.
You are my bridge.
But I have to go back.
Alone.
Did you know that?
That I would cross with you, but have to go back myself?
Monday, May 12, 2008
Dragon Breath
Dragon Breath.
You breathe near me and I feel burnt.
Its in the way you inhale in my face.
Even your breath tastes like chewed up words, spit in my face.
A platter of food separates us,
but we are really worlds apart.
I sit still and swallow all my words.
They taste like hate and go down roughly.
I finish a bottle of water and still, I feel like it can come back up.
The water.
The words.
The way I swallowed the things I should have said.
"You can be our spy." You said.
Am I really not enough for you?
Your babysitter. Your garbage.
Your bag to punch and fill with anything.
Your nothing.
I carry my silence like a badge.
I am proud of all the things I never said.
They fill me with anger.
But, I am able to lift my head, look in your eyes-
and know I did not fill you with anything but my silence.
But then,
when I least expect it-
my own husband looks at me,
and finds me wrong.
And I cry.
Because I have done everything for you and nothing to you.
And all the ways I have sacrificed,
seem like nothing.
But, my dear-
If I stand up and speak.... I slay the dragon.
Are you ready for that?
You breathe near me and I feel burnt.
Its in the way you inhale in my face.
Even your breath tastes like chewed up words, spit in my face.
A platter of food separates us,
but we are really worlds apart.
I sit still and swallow all my words.
They taste like hate and go down roughly.
I finish a bottle of water and still, I feel like it can come back up.
The water.
The words.
The way I swallowed the things I should have said.
"You can be our spy." You said.
Am I really not enough for you?
Your babysitter. Your garbage.
Your bag to punch and fill with anything.
Your nothing.
I carry my silence like a badge.
I am proud of all the things I never said.
They fill me with anger.
But, I am able to lift my head, look in your eyes-
and know I did not fill you with anything but my silence.
But then,
when I least expect it-
my own husband looks at me,
and finds me wrong.
And I cry.
Because I have done everything for you and nothing to you.
And all the ways I have sacrificed,
seem like nothing.
But, my dear-
If I stand up and speak.... I slay the dragon.
Are you ready for that?
Sunday, May 11, 2008
wealth stored. never enough said.
We are all the same.
Our smiles are relative
"Are you really having fun?" We ask, "with me?"
Because we are that unsure of ourselves
We stand and eat at counter tops and feel like royalty.
We pinch for pennies and feel rich.
I repeat our jokes like they are gold,
Our smiles are relative
"Are you really having fun?" We ask, "with me?"
Because we are that unsure of ourselves
We stand and eat at counter tops and feel like royalty.
We pinch for pennies and feel rich.
I repeat our jokes like they are gold,
increasing in value with each retold verse.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
And I, I Like You Alot
You can not say it like you mean it.
because you mean less.
And I can run over words,
and fly over speed bumps,
with only vowels in my mouth and somehow I make sense.
because you mean less.
And I can run over words,
and fly over speed bumps,
with only vowels in my mouth and somehow I make sense.
Locked Out And Leaning Down
So I cant get into my blog. But that's OK. Sometimes the best view is from the inside out. The outside looking in. I'm on your computer and I'm enjoying the sound of your keypad. Its louder then mine and it makes me feel more like a writer and less like myself. I cant possible feel less then I do already. tonight I got invited out with my husband out of default and i turned him down. ...by that same default. He left me sitting on our front steps and i sent him out with all the reassurance i could muster. He collected them like bouquets of forgiveness. But only a man accepts potted plants as flowers. My words were rooted to my heart. He took my words, but he cant keep them. They are attached to my heart with strings. He will know this when he comes back tonight, and I look as if i have been pulled.
I am not yesterdays girl. I am ever changing. I am moving so fast away from who i was.
but I want to pause.
and rewind.
was that me today sitting with my father. making him pull his legs in, so i could mope by his feet. Not answering any of his questions. posing only rhetoric's.
What if? is my mantra now.
what if I could stare right back at my reflection. And hold my own gaze.
I am falling apart. Halves and quarters and divided in widths.
I am not yesterdays girl. I am ever changing. I am moving so fast away from who i was.
but I want to pause.
and rewind.
was that me today sitting with my father. making him pull his legs in, so i could mope by his feet. Not answering any of his questions. posing only rhetoric's.
What if? is my mantra now.
what if I could stare right back at my reflection. And hold my own gaze.
I am falling apart. Halves and quarters and divided in widths.
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