I’ve had this …..(I’m not really comfortable calling it a relationship or a friendship) encounter? Illusion? This illusion, this 2+ yr illusion where I was a captive audience to a pathological liar with a mean streak. He’s the Chesire cat, if the Chesire cat wanted to cause Alice harm – sneaky, illusive, speaking in riddles and lies to ensue chaos, confusion, and pain. He was never fully here nor there, and never really went away.
It’s been about four months since we’ve spoken. He has since attempted fraud and theft from my credit card for over a hundred dollars. – which describes our relationship really well. I’d give him something, he’d take more – then he’d twist it around so it wasn’t about him abusing my generosity but my fault for offering anything in the first place. One of his many games. During the many breaks we’ve had – I’d write. Looking back on those scrawlings now I can’t help but to feel at peace. They show me that I tried. They show me how deeply entrenched in his web, into the illusion I was. The entries illuminate the emotional chaotic state he’d instigate and keep me in, and how very miserable and unstable I felt with him. They also show me that I cared, and I fought very hard – like gripping sand or mist because he told me he was being real. The words remind me of the pain of it all and remind me why I will never go back. They also show me how different I feel now as well. I no longer feel any warmth, no nostalgia, no care or concern. The illusion is broken and I see him for who he truly is. I’ve learned so much, and for that I’m grateful.
In all my attempts to keep him, I have lost him. I miss him in ways I’m unable to fully articulate, (perfect weather days, between pages, under my skin, backroads leading nowhere , watermelon drips and fresh lemonade). Quiet, gentle, sweet, silly, -the books, the piano, and all the plants…..his paper thin heart and swaying shoulders. My worthy adversary. My dearest…..I am words but he is sound.
I feel his contempt for me usually around 4a.m I want to sit with him always but he is a 20 ft tall vault How can I get close when my pulling him close and pushing away are the same damn thing
I am forest fire, he is a forest.
It’s maddening. When he says he’s sorry – but only if I do what he wants. When he repeatedly belittles me to his friends and family. When I give him everything I can and it’s never enough. He bleeds me dry and leaves me empty. He poisons me and blames me for being unhealthy. My carnage is his foundation. He is a hypocrite. He is a liar. He is a selfish, destructive arrogant ass. He is my heart. He was my friend. My demise. My undoing. My reason to quit. My reason to leave. The lump in my throat. My unfortunate epitaph. My. Mine. Thine. Away, away, away!
The Summation of Us
I am bleeding out. And you are hiding behind apathy.
Do you love me, did you ever? Or is it only indifference? Do you hate me, would you ever? Or is only a matter of indifference? Am I just someone to be used, just a little bruised, just a body passing through? If I bled through, would you still be indifferent? Did my love make a difference, did your heart move even a half an inch? Or is it just a matter of indifference??? You spread my words around, because talk is cheap – use for your own vanity – Tell me, did they get a laugh out of it? Yet they say they’re indifferent. Make me numb. Make me nu-umb.
A Way Back
“But you didn’t really….go anywhere.” He said. If he only knew the worlds my mind had wandered in the matter of late hours. All the miles I had logged in my brain, just the night before. It’s a wonder I found my way back at all. Oh how grateful I was my heart had not followed, I’d doubt it would have survived the journey.”
Dreams at 4 a.m.
We should have up and left this town
If you care, say it now
I don’t want you too close(You’re cold?)
Well, you never tried to anyways,
Don’t come around here,
With your shoulders hunched, white like a ghost
You never try, try, try,
There’s this man, you see
And he’s got plans for me
And I’ll come back in six or so years
In a cotton blouse, and a baby on the way
And you’ll be there with your shoulders hunched, white like a ghost
In the same old place
I thought I heard you say,“Always, Never”
Till they found you in the woods somewhere
Lips blue, old man stare
There you were with your shoulders hunched, white like a corpse
Heard they buried you in the same old place
I remember how I tried, tried, tried.
Always and Never
“I realized then, too late, that he didn’t learn anything nor was he regretful of all the pain he had caused me. He did as much damage and betrayal as he believed he could get away with. Some men love the thrill of the chase. He loved the excitement of fooling people who loved him. I cannot believe I was stupid enough to let it happen again.
You don’t feel like home, mister
You don’t feel like home at all
Makes me wonder if you ever were
Or just plastered me like wallpaper all over your walls
Trying to disguise the cracks in your foundation
Yeah, you try to breathe just like me
But you’re just haunted, yeah, you’re a beat up shack
You don’t feel warm, babe
You might be a corpse
Your beautiful blue lips
Left me out of sorts
You fed off my mind, you feasted on my heart
Yeah, it’s past time that we should part
You’re just a deadbeat, yeah, and I’m never coming back
Watch me run, run, run
Run and fade and soar
You’re a fungus, an ugly parasite
Babe, I just don’t need you anymore
There’s a swelling behind my face as I sit here on Christmas Eve. Unexpected blood rushes to my cheeks, and an elephant sits on my chest and I come undone.
I let it go.
I am mad at Jonny, I am mad as hell.
I want to peel the skin off Stephen’s hands and face and expose to the world the evil that lurks underneath. I want to be vindicated. And I am ashamed that I’m too weak to speak it out loud.
I want to get my hair cut – my wish for the past four years……in vain.
Audition, get back in it. Do it, just keep going it’s not too late………………sssshhh , just look in the mirror….do you remember? Where did she go?
Rise’s eyes – firecracker child, I wish I was more like her.
This life has left me dry and chapped, I bleed through the cracksI tear at my skin, I scratch and tear, my soul peels awayI need someone to cry over me, what a selfish ambition.
My dad died seven years ago today.
My life is plagued with selfish and weak men.
His military jacked hangs on a plastic hanger in my pantry.
My own bitterness breaks my heart. Someone show me a way, show me a way out
The 7th Shot
“Give me a reason to stay or enough courage to leave. Anything else is selfish and cruel.”
“You’re the easiest person to love. I find the only effortless part of us is loving you – without question – without doubt – without regret. You are so easy to love.”
Self Inflicted Lullaby
“Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring. Stop feeling. Stop caring.”
You’re annoyed. You think me worrying about you is coming from a place of condescension , that I somehow think you are weak or incapable of taking care of yourself. You told me to not worry about you. But I am. Because you see I have these dreams where you are crying in the shower – dreams where you’re lips are colorless – dreams that I wake up and read in the paper that you died and I didn’t know for days….dreams of you sitting motionless in a chair – dreams that your eyes are white – dreams that we are back at Moss Lake, i peer over the edge and see your body float up out of the water – dreams that you blame me . Blame me. Blame. Me. Blame me. Sitting frightened, as a child in a grave watching balloons floating out of reach… Out of reach….
I MISS YOU! I miss you so much! (But what is much?)
I think about you ALWAYS – EVERYWHERE-ALL THE TIME
I think about what you’re doing (your actions are a liquid)
what you’re thinking(your thoughts are the friction)
what you’re feeling (your feelings are the steam)
I think about you so intently that I begin to possess your body I grow your skin, walk upright, and open your eyes
Hoping to see what you see, (you always saw things uniquely beautiful)
I even do it in future tense- I hear you getting the news
I am suprised at your confusion,
I feel your ANGER
I feel the suffocating burden of memory
That radiating pinpoint of despair
I crack, I fall back into my body I open my eyes I touch my skin But your heart is beating in my chest
I wonder if you’ve noticed
“Do you know how it feels, what it’s like to regret not dying ten years ago? The words trickled out, then gushed and stained the entire room. He sat there, unimpressed at my entire summation, unmoved – he didn’t even look up. He’s a porcelain doll, cold, numb, and lovely – sitting in a floral chair, reading The New Yorker. I said, “You’re my best friend.” It crumbled and toppled like bricks from my tongue. It made my mouth dry. And now the only sound was the hum of my blood, and the guttural scraping of my mind – and the turning of a crisp page. He’s a million miles away.
4 a.m. Poison
When compliments and threats mean the same thing because they always lead to the same conclusion. When “i love you” and “Goodbye” are interchangeable. When there is no difference from an Adams apple and a fist. When the most overwhelming and fragile things I have – the sacred and virginal recesses of my heart are received with silence and and apathy…. The End becomes a welcoming light, like a warm breeze. Like a vacation. Like rest. Like relief and release. Only to be dragged back into consciousness, the clawing and thrashing and eventual wilting of my soul when I awake.
For someone who has lost her faith in anything, I certainly believed in you.
You listen to every song about being alone and missing people
You drive past my front door for the 750th time
I’m not coming back just for you to say I’m not worth your 2% effort
You act so tough when you treat me like dirt
You know what to say to make even right things hurt
I’m not coming around just to validate your 2% effort
If you’re feeling alone
Call up the shallow mongers you categorize as friends
Make a note to blame me when they don’t pick up
You’re not so misunderstood,
Just lie about who you are
I understand well enoughI hear you indirectly calling out to me
A piss poor howling at the moon
You accidently went too far and broke the part that liked you
I’m not going to bother and validate your 2% effort
Not sorry that’s all you have left to keep you warm
I’m a forest fire
Watch me burn this bridge for good
You’ve lost me. You can only trace the stain of the outline of my heart left in the woodwork. I leave a brilliant absence, coffee rings in your dreams, at 2am in the morning.
He was a hole punctured in my life. It wasn’t that he was too much or not enough – he himself was the lack. He himself was the absence of friendship, kindness, honesty, respect, etc. In his presence was the loneliest and most toxic place to be. I don’t hate him. I just deserve a life that doesn’t leak.
I dreamt about the jerk last night – which is weird. The last dream I had of him was maybe two years ago. We were at a carnival in Paris. By the end of the dream it turned out that it was all an illusion, that we were actually trapped there by a killer – that the Paruvian carnival was merely a rouse to attract victims. The dream turned out to be a nightmare.
That was the extent of our friendship actually – a shockingly accurate allegory illustrated by my subconcious. The start was pretty idyllic and dreamy. He was kind and considerate – a new friend who had a lot in common with me. Things were easy, uncomplicated. He even skipped work to come bring me lunch one day because I was grumpy and menstruating. We played music together and go on walks and talk about bookstores. He listened to me. He took time for me. I trusted him.Years later, now that it’s all done I’m left thinking – how did we get here? His cruelty started subtly at first. Insults. Not from him of course, just things other people told him about me. A small lie. Then another. Then another. And they’d grow. He would tell me one thing and then claim he said another, or never said it at all. And if I had evidence or had logic to back up my stance then he’d belittle and dismiss me – tease me for remembering. I got tired of the same old games, I got sick of the carnival. Things progressed to the point where I found it wasn’t a carnival at all – but a trap – a visage of smoke and mirrors. He is not a friend. I doubt he ever was. There were so many lies it’s hard , even now to distinguish if any of it was true. One thing I do know to my core – he never cared about me. Never. And never.