chicago (if I could. sing)

i was,

ah..

hmm.

ram bull ing

amongst 

the tall

bill hill dings

pushing away

how many thoughts start just like this:
how many times will i do
something stupid
like this
how long before i die
how many times will i lie and say:
all is fine
i know i know i know i know i know if i
don't now
I never will

"HEY! do you wanna play?"

with me?
i'm the kind that's quick to slip away
even though i'd like to
i fight the urge and i
will never stay
there's a secret place
safely tucked away within
quiet and enticing
i could invite
but i.. i
dont think i want to
dont  think i want you

dont look
too close
i'm not all here
fading intwo
fading in too
into I
know i know i know i know i know
if i don't now
I never will


leave, here

if i could
stop
have a minute
pause everything
and anything
that i could ever want
i could stop
have minute or two
think over possibility
and not miss...
the world(./'s) been
slyly
passing  me by

and on the 7th day...

how quickly we get over trivial things:

-a sucker-punch to the stomach
-   sharp intake of breath i could not spare
-a single drop
-a stare,
-   blank
-a blink back

 black.

i know this:                                                   I wants to be

swept of their feet, 

I wants a kiss 

                                                                    that could send 

                                                             their heart reeling

T T Y Y T Y

the cycle
the downward spiral
you like falling, don't you?
you're addicted to
the only thing
you're good at handling

waste of ____?

She questions ____.
                      (time)
"Am I nothing but the opening and closing of doors?
A rug repeatedly walked upon, a slate wiped
clean of ____."

She questions (memory)
"I can not regret
past mistakes
nor can I ever apologize
instead I try to recognize ____."

She questions (truth)
"I've got lessons to learn
and questions kneading
to be answered
it is
time."

but still, she questions.

why not change?

this is the joy of being.
the beautiful question is why
and it will always be unanswered
draw comfort from this consistency.

oh no another title

I've been trying to replace
 the idea
of You
with
Others' empty hands.
at all or nothing, We were a choice.

I can feel It growing inside of me
the consequence(.,)

I'm not quite sure
(if)  i should

regretisawasteofmytimeRIGHT


instead,
i wonder

if 

i do not want my world
to end
at this lake's shore
so close
i  must want
the ocean

my day after i left

waiting for the bus.
watching my leg hair grow
thinking about studs and the adjustment to  my new-found femininity
wishing i wasn't going to where i had to

a cop.
stops.
reverses and starts talking to me.
WHAT NO I  AM NOT YOUR FRIEND MAYA

there's a man who reads death notices.
and a girl too young with babies.

the wheels on the bus go round and round.

walking through the better parts of town
to work
pisses me off, but it's such a nice day out

each day
I AM
one step closer
to the moment
where i will turn about
and be unable
to recognize
my surroundings

watching, listening

i look through windows on buses, in bars, at gas stations
when old enough i explored alone
i learned more on corners.
lean on lamps, poles, and glass
i instinctively knew how to hide in crowded places
there is no need for you to look back in rearview mirror
im not doing anything

sometimes i wonder
 when did everything start to go so fast?
these past few years have been a blur of
constant self-inflicted encirclement.
with people i'm not quite sure i like
because of the fears that i hold tight
with in my self.
they say: "it's ok when you're young, go crazy, have fun. i'ts a faze"
its a faze its a faze
... and
"there will be many mournings after all of this."

suppose, when you're young you're supposed to have fun?
i thought that i was
but instead
i was learning slowly
that
every interaction every word will come back
to haunt me.

they say it's ok
when you're young
go crazy
have fun
it's a faze, it's a faze, it's a faze
and there will be
many mournings after
all
of this
oh are there
many mornings after
(and what is this? love?)

as of late
i've been biding my time
and biting my tongue
i've been playing the silent judgement game
because it can be sooo much fun
we're all just waiting for the other one(s) to get done
i'm biding my time and i
i'm biting my tongue

dream box

wake up in the morning
make the bed
paint the face
a mask, that hides the truth
"i's got a feeling"
self-loathing
"it's disturbing"
boiling at the brim
and "i cant see well"
i is about to start
crying
about cornered shadows where
Someone whispers "If you'd like help...call"
speak up
"i cant hear you"
I'm lost in the sea
Im lost in the dream
I'm lost within me.
i hides.
pinned to the wall
i's not going anywhere
for awhile

a thought:
I cant kill myself because there is no one to take my stuff. If I do, I would leave a well-kept room where the garbage bag in the corner holds some of my recent secrets. The others, have been lost in previous days, weeks, months, years garbage pickups.
I am pathetic.
I sit and look at all I have.
not much.

i hides.
pinned to the wall
under the covers
i wont be going anywhere for a while.


 

"i've been so goddamned scared that
Somebody's been watching me.
i've been so scared my eyes stay glued to  the ground
i'm always wondering but i never dare to
look
around"

you better believe me
when i say there's no big man up in the sky
girl, they made him up to make you feel better about when you'll die
cuz, that's gonna happen.
you better believe it.

the hardest part with remembering
is that this memory
well, it's gonna fade in time
and by then, we'll all have gone on with our lives
so, let's look past the past
and maybe there are some things we're not meant to understand
and that's all right
but you gotta believe
that it's all right.

so, get on up and
out the door
and don't you come running back here
looking for something more
cuz, it's not gonna happen
and you better believe
that it's all right.

wi statute 948.21

i Could speculate on
how i became
how i learned to say "its whatever"
in the face of
placing blame
how i learned to say
ooh girl, damn, shit and fuck
one might say the mothers never raised me that way
all 5
perhaps i've just been trying to emulate
the originals 
trying to find some glimpse within
of the one that has a shadow for a face
no name
no body
just a fragmented memory
strewn quite haphazerdly
across
a lined page

i know because i breathe.

it's tricky, wires one might balance on.
could/should i dream
she's a success who never looked back
i wouldn't want to
impose: a skeleton in a closet suddenly started walking around
asking questions
answer: reality
sometimes i wonder where these hands came from
whose eyes 
which two bodies mixed together created this
creamy peanut butter skin tone.