mix tape

i'm breathing a bit easier recently.
i broke things, shattered fragile pieces, wreaked havoc on a clean room. the best part is, i did it on purpose. i meant it. i methodically caused this destruction. effortlessly, even. lines have already been scored, and the white covering in the room is just old dust, asking to be blown away. a few swift movements and i smile in response to the sound of shattering.
when i say i smile, i mean my mouth moves in that direction. but there's nothing on the inside. could rip me open and find nothing there. you're too late. i've looted it myself already.

when i say let's keep in touch,
i really mean i wish that you'd grow up

yesterday

i lost my prism.
you'll know when i find it again.
tell then, i'll stay away.

it was an accident

who the hell gave you the right to any part of me? under what pretense did you gain the ability to do this to me, to reduce me to a person who is reduced at the end of the day to a pacing, frantic, shaking being who can't sit still and can't move if she tried.

you're pronouncing his name using the wrong kitchen word

he gets angry so i don't have to. notes are dark and low, indulging in something painful and unspeakable. the scales and chords are pervasive into the soul, speaking to the tragic hero in me. bits transition smoothly into melodic and major runs and whole pieces at times, but the dissonance discord disparate motif of his work is never betrayed. and through a few nocturnes or a rare piano sonata (i like the one in C minor) the bad feelings in me are addressed and slowly massaged out. the knot in my chest softens and the lines in my forehead smooth and i take a deep breath and release it, taking strength not in my anger but my ability to feel.

this is the last time, i swear it

i thought i needed you.




no more lies. i did need you.
(although conceding to need is such a weakness that i damn the part of myself that gave in.)
and now i hate you because something stupid i saw in you made me weak,
gave me the right, i thought, to lean.

but the dry reeds broke and i stumbled, confused and ashamed and hurt


thankfully i found my balance.
no more leaning.

kryptonite

i like stars. they remind me of myself, ever since childhood when the sight of them didn't remind me how small i was but how big things can be. stars are their own strength. they burn and burn and burn in a bright and everlasting self sufficient flame--nothing is too dark, too big, too frightening. they take care of themselves, destined to live and feed off their own energy and their own fire. they do not burn for others but for their own independent purpose, but have the power to light entire solar systems or be seen 427 light years away.
but even stars burn out. it's a general wearing-down process as the star loses some critical battle or it's a major cosmic disaster that the star can't withstand that throws everything off-kilter and it changes its very composition, often ceasing to exist as we know it. and what happens then? as a cold and lifeless rock does it fall out of existence, merely drifting around the cosmos it once ruled? is there a way, do you think, for them to re-start again?
i hate i have to bother to ask this question. but, into the universe, does failure have an antidote?

let it shine

my little flashlight bounces along. bounce. bounce. bounce.

i've been holding onto it for a very long time indeed now. there's a thumbprint on it where my fingers have to grip it, so i'm used to the groove. sometimes i play tricks with it and throw it in the air and catch it again. wheehwwheeehhwwhheee bounce bounce.

i walk along, but sometimes i like to run. bouncebouncebouncebouncebounce.

i'm not sure what's around me, because the light isn't big enough. it's just a dot really. but sometimes i like to shine it out to see if anything will illuminate. bouuuuuuuu....

and i think i've forgotten where i'm going, except something always tells me to keep going forward so i right the little beam and continue onward. bounce. bounce. bounce.

the batteries are wearing out, so sometimes the bouncing is interrupted by spurts and sputterings. bounce. bouscchhh---nce. bounce. b-----

i whistle loudly to pretend i'm not afraid, but i clutch the little light tightly to my heart and walk a little faster as if maybe i can get there before it's gone. bboouunncceebboouunncceebboouunnccee.

but oops.

the sputtering got worse and it turned off for good. bounce. boun-- b--

imagine that. my eyes adjusted.