Burger Night

 

Boom We Don’t Work

Eventually your heart will find forgiveness
Or eventually it will eat at you
Termites in the country home
Thousands of millions to rebuild

And I look out over the backyard fire pit
Where the neighbors drink another
Rum and coke and have another fight
I’m not that kind of person

Not today, the land lords asks
Did you clean up after the leak
From the meth lab, upstairs

It wasn’t on the schedule, so no

Eventually your heart will need forgiveness
Eventually I will know my own truth
Not the dictation and expectations of others
There’s no time for your shit

Tell My Eyes

What if I’m better than all this?
What if I’m not?
What if what I do next really matters?
What if it really -doesn’t?
What if I invest all this time and energy
And only end up on the ground
Fingernails in the cobble stone
Digging deeper for solid ground
So I can crawl up hill across 
The flat land

Do I need to tell my eyes 
To see success in a new way
It’s not a book in my hand
A show with music 
And hands to the sky
Clapping and standing O’s 

If I can change what success
Is to me, and how it’s supposed to feel
Can I change the why I feel inside?
Can I manipulate my depression/ exhaustion
By changing my expectations?

If I reassess what healthy goals are
And that I find and appreciate on the inside
And don’t have to show them, prove to them
Don’t have to entertain them, or make them feel safe

If my success in mine does that change how I feel inside proper to the core?

If I change my cores expectation of love, the expectations set by and unachievable past, when success and failure or disappointment; 
I need to recognize myself from the inside
When I’m outside around other people

I can’t wait to feel what success is, 

If I haven’t told myself what success will look like when it happens;
I can’t share the celebration with people who don’t understand my success and allow their reaction make the celebration less. 

In This Place

And every morning the doctors
In this place
Clean the blood 
From my straight jacket

I can dress myself, fine
When I am wrapped up 
In this place-
Is when I bleed

And every morning 
I ask the other doctors
Why only I wear a straight-jacket
In this place

Milk Only Comes from Cows

I just wrote that I wish someone had listened to me, many times in the past, really heard my pain and confusion and helped me draw up a plan for the future. Rather than just be happy that I have a job, a home, and to walk on eggshells so I don’t lose it all. I mean I’m smart, I can charge forward and figure it out myself. (If I can’t, I fail and disappoint.)

That’s all, I never had the knowledge of money, life, elders, and those who have lived it, to put it together, in terms of myself and my capabilities; I didn’t know what there was out there: I mean we can’t ask for nondairy options, if we’re told milk only comes from cows.

So, let’s create a nonlinear plan of needs and wants - successes and failures.

The ultimate has always been to be able to make enough money from creative endeavors not to have a full-time job. I have always had creative projects on the go, but nothing creating income, a lot sucking money from me, and no connections or moments that make me feel successful.

I have always thought- I will pay for this class, or do this for free, because it will open doors, I will be ok just doing it. I haven’t said “it’s all been worth it.”

Post lock-down it’s all been about writing. And there’s a lot of it. And I have no idea what to do next. I’m happy just to show up at the page, and do my thing, but perhaps there is more, because it hurts to take 8 hours a day five days a week and shut my life off to do a job that isn't me.

It also feels like I have been surrounded by a lot of people have been humoring me for decades. What's it going to hurt if you tell her she's good and walk away, she'll walk away soon too.

Now there have been huge changes since October. I can see that I have changed, I have grown a lot, I understand my insides a lot more, I see the world as a very different place not only than my childhood, but different than what I believed it was and wanted it to be, and not at all in a good way.

I also know what I offer that many others do not- Look at all the nondairy options I have in a world where most people say only cows make milk. (ok the metaphor is a stretch but I’m tired and all this thinking in making me hungry.) 

And, for once in my life, I have to take what I know, mix it with who I am, and say let’s have some options to take me into the future. Do I keep looking for a job that lets me write on my off time, or do I say what I have on my shelves is different than before and try again?

Bread Free Burger

 

Just Ride

 

Cause I'm alone, and the company is better, it doesn't hurt me, confuse me, or give me information that just isn't.

In The Garden

I loved that garden.
I loved that gardener more.
I loved more than just the gardener in that garden.
It was conceptual service.
Exceptional?
In the garden?
Both.
The irony of finding someone to love in the garden.
You don’t iron.
I know.

Killed Me

I have been alive-
All this time.
And all I could do
Was sit, here, and 
Reconsider all the ways
You have killed me.

And I don’t need
To be rescued.
Until I do,

But, I wait here and
Reconsider all the ways
You can rescue me.

So. Still. Your. 

Nothing-

Killed me.

They're back