this is
not enough to write on here. no one will see, no one will care. you were not were not you were not a lover, not my safe departure.
here is the rain we saw.
here is the anger the tourette's syndrome the hateful days. i don't think i don't think i don't know if i'm still growing here. still life distortion. her hand over her mouth. the first real life case of it.
last night at that dive, i met the argentinian response to jesus. he touched my leg, tugged my little heart strings. i tugged cancer from a vending machine. the vole with too-big eyebrows offered me a passport to despair. importunity.
i could end all this behind prison bars, resting soundly on the image of him bleeding over our unwashed tiles, our bare kitchen floor. glass everywhere after i did it. the noise--
i'd do it but this wouldn't change the fact i brought him here. offered him the rusted keys to my unlaundered jeans. full blown access to the territory men will say anything to stab their little flagpoles through.
my territory. i brought him here.
he saw the other selves. oops
jesus forgave me, underneath our table in that dive. me hunched over my hangover drink (it went with the theme---jesus and a bloody mary) his weathered hand creeping toward my knee. i held my breath.
finally, he's reached me.
call mother. set loose the hounds. we're starting a new group here: beginner sinners. that's right. we're starting over now, and it's ok.
here is the rain we saw.
here is the anger the tourette's syndrome the hateful days. i don't think i don't think i don't know if i'm still growing here. still life distortion. her hand over her mouth. the first real life case of it.
last night at that dive, i met the argentinian response to jesus. he touched my leg, tugged my little heart strings. i tugged cancer from a vending machine. the vole with too-big eyebrows offered me a passport to despair. importunity.
i could end all this behind prison bars, resting soundly on the image of him bleeding over our unwashed tiles, our bare kitchen floor. glass everywhere after i did it. the noise--
i'd do it but this wouldn't change the fact i brought him here. offered him the rusted keys to my unlaundered jeans. full blown access to the territory men will say anything to stab their little flagpoles through.
my territory. i brought him here.
he saw the other selves. oops
jesus forgave me, underneath our table in that dive. me hunched over my hangover drink (it went with the theme---jesus and a bloody mary) his weathered hand creeping toward my knee. i held my breath.
finally, he's reached me.
call mother. set loose the hounds. we're starting a new group here: beginner sinners. that's right. we're starting over now, and it's ok.