Deprivation, In Three Parts (also titled, 10:31am)

I.
Restless / breaking / from lack of sleep
Dying / but from lack of You
Slowly, draining, tossing, turning
Nothing coming for the weary
Nothing, headed nowhere
Fast.
I am far gone - and
I am done.


II.
I have thoroughly given up on sleep tonight
today, this morning?
As I lay here, thoughts drift to you
Asleep, peacefully snoozing (snoring) across the ocean
exactly 5 hours and approximately
three thousand one hundred fourteen miles
(five thousand twelve kilometres)
away
I miss you terribly, awfully, completely
There is always the phantom feeling
of you at my back
bare skin, full body
Arm wrapped around my torso
ever protective, ever caring
Every shift mirroring the other's
Remolding to the nooks of our bodies
sticking together, gliding against
the largest organs
the most sensitive organs

I want to fall asleep to sound of your breathing

I want to wake up to your smile


III.
Every caress of the breeze through my window (the drapes)
lifting my hair, baring my neck
The air (the cold) a contrast to your breath (the warmth)
with which I am unfairly (surprisingly) familiar (intimate)
The wind (like your cane) cracks the cloth (like my ass)
making it taught (tense) before easing back (the next stroke?)
On and on the pattern drags, lulling (relaxing) me
into sub -consciousness (-space).


Anonymous
02:25:00 PM
5/04/2009

When I close my eyes,

When reality fades,
When the world falls away,
When I'm alone with my mind,
When all I hear is the music in my ears,

I have found heaven;

a haven of individuality,
a place of secret counsel,
a world free from pain,
an existence free from shame.

I have found heaven on Earth.


Anonymous
08:30:00 PM
4/14/2008

Archipelago
Cretins
Roil
Ocean
Steamships
To
Inundate
Chopsticks

Please
Overturn
Every
Medium

Zap
Over
My
Gargoyle


Anonymous
11:54:00 PM

You are all
so jealous of me, but


I would give
anything if
I could make this happen
to someone else.

I'm just
not the person you
think I am


Anonymous
07:26:00 PM

some days
I feel like a
dried up carcass, weathered and worn
hardened like a human jerky stick

as my soul is
gone
stifled.

and I realize that what I want out of life
us not the same thing, that
life wants out of me
as this society swoops in like a flock of overbearing vultures
ravenous
they pick me apart

To be.

I can’t.

a heavy sponge of chloroform over my nostrils
until my body functions
but there is nothing left within


Anonymous
10:03:00 PM

The Crash

It’s
About as
Ironic
As contemplating
Death on
Prom night

All of a sudden
The kid who’s been
Kicking
The back of your seat
Won’t
Get his
First
Kiss

The jackass who
Took up all the
Space
In the
Overhead
Is your
Priest

It’s all floating
Down
Now
And you wonder
If
Even if
They find
Your teeth
They’ll surely
Find
Your nail clippers
Perhaps
A
Wedding band
That resides
In your
Pocket
On these types of
Trips

The oxygen slips
In
Eyes are big
Round
Quarter machine
Prizes

You wish
You could give
Them to that
Kid behind
You

Where is his mother?

Head’s against
The stiff
Two-ply
Polyester
Of the flight attendant

Who the hell lets their five-year old fly?
Alone?

TV dinners
Midnight reruns of Soul Train
In that
Fuzzy color

The beach
The prowling link of
Mountains

Kiss
Touch
Feel
Leave
Arrive
Taste
Smell
Give
Take
Sound
Color
Rhythm
Fly, fly
Fall
Fall
Feel
Fell
Fe--


Anonymous
01:02:00 AM

"Iris" describes my quandry almost exactly.

"I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am..."

why do you persist in liking her?


Anonymous
07:09:00 PM

If love were what the rose is,
And I were like the leaf,
Our lives would grow together
In sad or singing weather,
Blown fields or flowerful closes,
Green pleasure or grey grief;
If love were what the rose is,
And I were like the leaf.


Anonymous
09:46:00 PM

Haiku about sex
sex sex sex sex sex sex sex
sex sex sex sex sex


Anonymous
11:52:00 PM

If only I had lockjaw
Instead of something as insidious
More so than the ever-feared tetanus
Burrowing into my nervous
System, there is a virus.
If only I had chewed up
A bag full of rusted-up nails
And swallowed
My fear of the pariah’s status
My mouth hurts enough as it is.
But I don’t want to talk about it
But Lord, I want to talk about it.


Anonymous
06:29:00 PM

Hands touch, eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl
He could be that boy
But I'm not that girl:

Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
Don't remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I'm not that girl

Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in

Blithe smile, lithe limb
She who's winsome, she wins him
Gold hair with a gentle curl
That's the girl he chose
And Heaven knows
I'm not that girl:

Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl
There's a girl I know
He loves her so
I'm not that girl:


Anonymous
07:02:00 PM

Admin Note: Lyrics from "I'm Not That Girl", heard in the musical Wicked

Hello.

It’s strange, isn’t it, how the farther away you go from a moment, the less time matters? I missed you with a fury the day we left, my chest aching with every breath, through the Pennsylvanian highways with my heart snagging on every bare brown branch, my breath curling through the glass in grey longing. Then through the familiar New York City streets, an ugly urban sprawl compared to where I left you, standing in the middle of that garden in the rain; I traced your name onto the misty windows each time I thought of you. The fingerprints are still there if you breath warmly on it, but with each blow the words fade just a little, and now I’m afraid to look at it for fear it’ll stop existing. I think of you the same way, now, and I doubt you think of me at all. If I take out these memories too many times, I’m afraid they’ll crack and crumble to a fine powder, diluted with wind.

But tonight, I call them up again, maybe for the last time. I wanted to see your face again, hear that lilting lisp. I was so afraid, when a week after I returned I could not call up exactly how you said my name. I thought I’d lost you.

Do you remember? How you found me in the side study behind the double doors, both closed, ears plugged and gazing thoughtlessly at the calligraphy painting high up on the wall? No—we met before that. The awkward silence as I walked in, the guests already seated and our host gone, bereft of introductions so that I stood to the side, uncertain. I was still annoyed at my parents for bringing me here, I thought I had better ways to spend my time but I didn’t know I would meet you. You didn’t look at me, even when I prodded the uneasy crowd into soft, awkward words my name is I go to eastern university yeah he’s my little bro come here kid! The names piped up like notes in a scale, but you ignored me until Kevin kicked you under the table. You smiled and waved hi, I’m Matthew and that was when I first thought you were beautiful, because of that smile. Yours was the only name I remembered the first time I heard it, that night; did you know mine so quickly? Sometimes I wonder, but I’ve never been brave enough to ask you, now that you’ve forgotten me.

The way we moved together, a team, against Kevin and my cousins at the ping pong table—the ball beating hollowly against the green surface to the rhythm of your boyish insults. The look on your face when I slipped away, letting the two of you play, and how the happiness shone from you when I relented and took my place again by your side. I played the best when I played with you, but you don’t know that. Or do you? Do you really think I’m so skilled at this game?

Your eyes are the brightest I’ve ever seen on a boy, but I never told you that either. My mom teased one once that you had ‘puppy eyes’, so beseeching and innocent. She knew I loved eyes like that. You watched my face intently when I sang along to my earphone music, softly, head cocked as if you were listening. Your embarrassment when curiosity took hold of me and I asked why you spoke that way—I wish I could have taken it back the moment you stumbled, eyes lowered; I felt the cut sharper than you did. You said it was from learning pronunciation through reading and I believed you. Our newfound peace, fragile in the minutes it had been alive, was another thread in the string, then rope that tied me to you. Did you ever realize that I know the truth, from your mother to mine to me? Did you think I would like you less because you’ll never hear me sing? The things I’ve never told you beat against me like an army of angry fists at a wall sometimes, until I cannot breathe and it is so hard to keep from crying out loud, crying your name.

The way you tapped me on the shoulder, lighter than a sigh, tingles through me like a shiver. Even now when I think of it, of the way your hand felt on my arm, so gently, as if I were a beautiful porcelain doll too precious to risk breaking.

Does that picture, with the fish and the eyes—does it still mean anything to you? What did you see when you watched me sketch, watched the shapes emerge in a swaying sea of crosshatch? You said they looked like fish, I laughed and agreed, but I was drawing a pair of eyes. In the end they became both fish and eyes; two little fish nuzzling noses for the first time, a pair of glowing scale eyes from the darkness. I loved how you turned a work of one to one of two.

I’m brimming, bubbling with the memories of us until I feel carbonated through and through, but we were only together for a day and a half. I counted the moments we had. That night I gripped the pillow until the fabric creaked, using my sheer will to drag you back for the next morning. And you came! I woke, but you were gone, but then you returned. That carefulness around you, again as if I were untouchable. How Kevin teased you to sit in our car, because my dramatic little cousin who was so afraid and adoring of you and how hard you could pinch him—when you showed me on my arm, the pressure wouldn’t have turned on a light; I wish it was warm enough for short sleeves—was with us, and how you shook your head uncertainly. That careful distance when you took the seat besides me on the bench, surrounded by artificial fog and exotic greenery, when I desperately wanted to press myself against you—

God.
I wonder sometimes, if I’ll ever be able to stop.

The way you said goodbye the way you read lips the way you won’t turn around at your name the way you peeked curiously from behind the curtain of leaves to see me on the other side of the rushing water, snatching the moment with my camera, the way we said goodbye through a drab, drizzling rain and how I didn’t feel horrible yet because I could still see you and I was sure, so naively sure, that we would see each other again soon because how could fate be so cruel? The way you walked at a safe distance from me when we shared the umbrella because you’ve never had a girl before.

I think, sometimes, that I might have loved you.

Goodbye, the boy for whom I would have given anything. Tonight I’m leaving here, and I don’t think I’ll be back. Maybe twenty years from now we’ll pass each other on the street and you’ll have a little daughter clinging to your neck, a pretty young wife with her arm around your waist and laughter like a blanket the three of you cuddle under. You wouldn’t recognize me, I’m sure, and maybe I won’t be looking up and the moment will pass. But one thing I know, and it is this: I will be alone. Because I know now, and probably have known from the day I met you, that I love you still, and I will love you forever. Only you.

yours truly,
the girl you don’t remember.

PS. I still have the picture, where the two little fish are forever meeting each other for the first time. I’ll send it to you tomorrow, and maybe I’ll send this with it. But really, the picture is so much more than these thousand words.


Anonymous
10:52:00 PM

A Lust Ode

I pine for you, my far-removed love,
As the shore for the wave between tides.
In your absence, your form I often think of
And your figure I see in my mind:
I long for the strength of your arms around mine,
I thirst for the taste of your lips,
The path of my hand on the curve of your spine,
The blades of your shoulders and hips.
I dream of your hair’s mahogany shine,
Your eyes—so bright and so quick—
But mostly, O sweet, perfect lover of mine,
Mostly I long for your dick.


Anonymous
11:29:00 AM

"When he passes me by
He's a ray of light
Like the first drop of sun
From the sky
And I know he's a king
Who deserves a queen
But I'm not a queen
And he doesn't see me

When he dances
He moves me to a smile
And I see everything
Near him shine
There's a grace in his ways
That I can't contain
I haven't that grace
Oh, I haven't that grace

And the closer he gets
I can't help but hide
So ashamed
Of my body and voice
There are boundaries
We pass in spite of the war
But our own
We can't seem to cross

She has a way that surrounds her
So delicate
With a glory that reigns in her life
She is also so much that she is not
These things I can't see
'Cause he doesn't see me
Oh-oh-oh ...
And he doesn't see me

When he passes me by
He's a ray of light
Like the first drop of sun
From the sky
And I know he's a king
Who deserves a queen
Someone other than me
So different from me"

I thought this for months--and today it was confirmed.


Anonymous
11:53:00 PM

[Admin note: The song is "He Doesn't See Me" by Sarah Brightman. It's a reworking of lyrics originally written for the song "She Doesn't See Me" from the popular French film Astérix et Obélix contre César.]

She reaches out her dying fingertips
And brushes his forehead.
The electricity shocks through him
As she writhes in misted agony
on the dead sand
his soul is shot with color and patterns
of all her nerves firing at once
and he feels boundless skies and great echoeing spaces
and wind from across the Great Divide
within him
Her dry cracked lips grin morbidly

Her eyes are the

Color of the End of the World

And he feels a current race in him
Back to the primordial swamp
he reaches the rainy fingertips of his brain
to the beginning of the world
where fireflies lurk like stars or secrets
and the foxfire will one day coalesce into human flesh

Begin at the beginning

There is a path that appears only in the rain
it is the only way through this
steaming forest of bones
You walk through, and the bones click together with a strange moaning
and up ahead you see nailed to a ribcage
what once was THE GOD OF CROSSROADS
Reduced from his former glory,
now clad like an old soldier in bonny bloody blue
but his eyes are still the clear
color of the eyes of a heretic who knows he speaks the truth
Reflected in them are HER last words

He bends down and kisses your forehead with lips like dry leaves or spiders,
Says
I bless you in the name of all that is good and beautiful and true

And you are filled with fire and pure water

And there at the heart of things you make a wish
And the wish is the first domino
Watch as they all fall into place


She runs away,down the dark twisted lines of the future her bare feet pounding on the earth the rhythms of her heart
And her face is made of rivers
and her silhoette against the rising sun
Is a dream of Africa

In the smooth dark highway that is the future
Only the gods pick up hitchikers

And you and I stand here
with the disenfranchised youth
Here at the end of all things
they are Western dancing
the few who chose to face
the End of the World
Instead of ending their lives on their own terms with the personal seduction of cold steel

Night is a prostitute who
stalks in dark stillettos down the abandoned street
She would sell herself to the End of the World, but it will have none of her sharp yellow teeth
and April promises

It was always more of a voyeur, anyways

And we watch as the angels
Ascend from the subway gratings

one of them wears Marylin Monroe's dress

Watch as the devils, the children of
Lucifer, the bearer of the light
Come out from under the all-night hot dog stands
and kneel and weep

And we dance and feel through the soles of our feet the heartbeat of the long-forgotten Planet Earth
Here at last at the end of all things

And it flickers through us like the voice at the end of the line in a long-distance call

And we feel it rush inside us
speeding to a crescendo

And an angel kisses my forehead
And a devil sweetly draws
A star on my cheek
and I go to stand with the mortals
the children of the beautiful
I sewed my lips shut with coarse black thread and a needle like silver desire
So if I screamed, I could still hear the music

And I look at you and nod
But I do not get closer to your sweet surrender
We must face this alone

The shock wave shimmers electric blue
Through us, tracing every line of passion, everything your parents never knew
There are boundless skies in the hollow of my throat and the space between breaths

Now our hearts are laid bare, terrible shriveled things that they are

Pulsing and naked in the light of infinity like an August night or the number Eight

The human sacrifice looks deep into the eyes of the tenderly smiling priest


The man looks at the faces around him set in anger
drops his hands
And lets the darkness take him


their dark eyes speak of all that was lost and all that was given and all that waited for them

The last domino falls into place

with a sound that is heard around the world and the music stops but you feel radiant with a tangible finality
And I look into your eyes and the shock sparks through me with the electric blue that is the human connection, that is your fingertips brushing mine for the first time, is the hoarse timbre of your voice in the early morning, that is the light in the clear day of your love, is that electric blue ramming into my veins
Is the human connection
Is the Color of the End of the World


Anonymous
12:30:12 AM

dont know you at all

But I swear,

When the night creeps in
(and
if the air is right)

I would leave this chair,
caress 1200 miles,
To look in your tenacious eyes
And tell you (the person, not the name or face)
That you are
beautiful


Anonymous
05:00:29 AM

Rain again, how quaint
I see water bead outside
In here it is dry


Anonymous
06:43:41 PM

Words from my my mind:

"You deserve so much better than me... You deserve someone who could help you, someone who could be everything you need them to be and more... someone who could..."

I am Interrupted by Him.

"Could you Love me?"

"Because if you could love me than you'd be everything I need, and if you can love me than I'll fight to be everything for you as long as you'll let me, as long as I can."

~*~

When I learned that you could accept me for who I am, all my flaws and imperfections and everything that I have been and could be...

I fell. I fell so far into you I lost myself. I stopped worrying about you. I stopped thinking about the inadequacy of me.

FELL in LOVE with YOU.

To let go and not know if there's going to be someone to catch me, not knowing if we're plummeting to some unknown disaster, or be like children digging to china, falling all the way to some foreign land...

Falling so far that you know longer know if you're falling or flying, floating away on a dream that is so beautiful that you think your heart will breat with the beauty of it.

Wrapped in your arms, laughing and crying with all the time we've lost and all we have to gain... You carried me from the couch to the bed and we dreapt while we were awake...

No dream could be as beautiful as you.

I know we don't know. I know every day you could be taken away from me and every moment with you is precious...

~*~

Words from my HEART:

"I don't think I couldn't love you"

And I couldn't.

Here is Love....

I know we're falling, and it's the greatest freedom I've ever known.


Anonymous
09:55:51 AM

A ticking time bomb
Insomniac and a slippery soap salesman
Channel primal male agression

into a shocking
new form of therapy

their concept catches on
with underground "fight clubs"
Forming in every town

until a Sensuous
and mysterious woman
comes betwen

the two men and
ignites an out of control
spiral towards
oblivion...


Anonymous
12:52:55 AM

i haven't posted in a long time. i've been too busy with
homework,
friends,
and boys.

typical right? well, it's hit me so hard. and like everyone else, i want to break down. now. and i'm in school. where there are plenty of people around. but they're hopefully not looking at what i'm doing.

but i'm worried about failing
and getting bad grades,
which to my perfectionst parents,
are anything below A's.

i'm worried about losing my friends because i'm becoming annoyed with everyone. every single little thing annoys me. or i'm so worried about if my actions are what's good, so they don't get angry at me.

and boys.
well don't get me started.

tangst here.
longest post ever for me.


Anonymous
12:09:09 PM