How Fucking Romantic

I'm confused.


About everything,
really.


Funny how that happens.

Nothing Matters When We're Dancing

And in the dark
the need to kiss
you surged to
an all time high
as you sat inches from 
me, wearing plaid
and whispering.


But I know
it's all a hopeless
rouse, so
I'll try to throw
myself into supporting
other people's romantic
endeavors because
my own endeavors
are always, will always
be shit. 


Complete shit.


What the fuck
am I supposed to
do
when I feel
so stupid,
utterly dumb
and lost?


Because this 
is shit. 


All I want
is to hold hands
and walk down the street
with you.
And when we part
I'll kiss you
on the face.


Sitting next to 
you in the dark
was damaging.


It made my heart
ache and swell.
A mold of molten
glass.

Parades Go By

I realized I was sad.
A moment later I realized
I had forgotten how to
fix 
that. 

I Don't Want to Get Over You

So let's just be lovers.

[I am listening to melancholia love songs, making me liable to get very sad over stupid things.] 

The Book of Love

I dreamt you were dying.
You told me when your
funeral would be while you
were still alive.
You were so sick,
you were so sure you
would die soon.


And then I dreamt
I was pregnant,
really pregnant,
with your
baby, but now 
you were dead.
And I had the baby in this dream.


I dreamt after that
that she lived with a 
family down the street,
behind the house of a crazy
man who tried to kill her.
And then tried to kill
me and my brother.


We were late
to the film screening
after this happened.
We ended up winning money.
But I couldn't find
my mafia family anywhere.
And I was afraid they'd died.


It was so bizarre,
the whole long
ordeal.

69 Love Songs

So I'm listening to The Magnetic Fields,
like you were talking about.
"I think you'll like them. 
69 Love Songs is 
the way to go."


And so I am listening.
And I am liking it a lot.
The entire concept is 
really great.


We talked.
And it felt like it
had been forever.
I'd really forgotten
what it was like to 
have a real conversation
about real things with you.


Because you are different
in that context.
You seem a lot more
you. You just sort of
say whatever
and exist.
You get frustrated,
you talk about it,
we talk about dead writers,
living writers we admire.
We talk about all 
the music worth listening to.
And all the things which matter.


I forgot how human you were,
and the sameness we share.


"We have our own club."
You said, because we
find the same things
insightful, not boring.


And if we can't be anything else,
let's just be best friends
in the future, ok?

Neighborhood #3

I look at you 
across a large room.


In a roaring silence.


The distance between us
so solid.


And my heart
aches
in my chest.


I feel my bones
tighten,
my ribs crackle
in a painful way.


My heart comes
near to exploding.


I am almost 
like the starlings,
dead on the roadside,
heart exploded from
shock.

Shuffle

I realize we are different.
I'm not sure how to feel
about the space we occupy
when we're together.
There is constant shifting,
we stand on tectonic plates,
their movements always subtle,
but ever present.


We are close
in aspects,
we are friends.
In other aspects
we can get awkward.


You just sort of show up.
Sit down,
without my asking
and we talk.
You're just there. 

You Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will.

I want to go sightseeing.
I want to swim 
and look at the mountains.
I want to drive
down old roads.


I want to sit in a
darkened cinema
and hold your hand
without speaking.


I want to walk
all the city blocks
and take a bus 
into chinatown.


I want dusty 
old cactus trails
into an ancient
natural beauty.


I want to stand
on top of a hill,
and fly kites.


I want to take the train,
sit with you
and say small words
on our way to a misty,
clouded seaside,
where the sea is green.


I do not want
to do all of this work,
which is pointless.


I do not want to
sit on this sofa,
rotting away in the quiet.


I do not want 
the life constructed
for me.

Death of an Interior Designer

It's all I can do 
to keep from falling apart.


But not really,
because I still
fall apart
on a nearly constant 
basis. 


Spending another day
in a hospital was
not good.


Being asked
"Do you feel 
like you want to 
hurt yourself
or others?"
too many times
was not good either.


Because I don't.
I just want to 
go to bed
and wake up 
feeling like I am
a real person again.
Like I am me.


I forget who I am
everyday.
It's a guessing game-
do I like this? 
Do I say this?
Is this me?
I forget.
Because I have not felt
like Audrey
in three months.


And I'm sorry
I appear to be ripping
apart absolutely everything
in my life.
But I really can't help it.
I can't even keep myself glued
together anymore.


I saw two doctors
and a social worker.
Two nurses.


And I felt like
maybe something
happened.
I walked out
with a prescription
and some phone numbers.


Maybe I can stop
feeling so out of control
and so worthless and helpless
long enough to 
feel good for a day or two again.


Maybe I'll be able to sleep
tonight
without panicking.


Maybe I'll be able to 
go to school tomorrow.


Maybe I'll learn
how to function again.
Maybe I'll be a real person
again.


But I'm not getting my hopes
up. Because I've done that before,
and nothing is better.


And you can leave me alone,
I don't really care.
Do whatever you have to do
for whoever or whatever
or yourself.


I just can't really keep
feeling guilty for when everyone
else feels bad.


Because I am too damn
close to the edge
to keep walking.

Bronte

Because we all

need to get out of

ourselves for a while.

To be yourself,

but in a different realm.

Existing elsewhere.

Pretending

that maybe you are 

not you.

You don't know 

anybody here.

The city is a mask

I will always wear fondly.

The anonymity

I can gain

in a place where

no one knows my 

name is 

such beautiful solace.

To walk streets

with numbered names with

which I am unfamiliar.

Side streets

I have never seen,

ivy-covered

dreams I will store

in my memory.

As inner sanctums

in the concrete.

A flush of green

against stone.

Uneven sidewalks

buses

people

and cars

and traffic and 

a beauty

you can not find

anywhere but a city.

And someday

I will set foot 

in a new adventure,

where nobody knows my name,

nobody stops moving,

the subways roll perpetually,

the lights never dim.

To forget who I am,

where I am,

if only for an afternoon

is a peace

I cannot fully explain in words.

Stay Young, Go Dancing

I nearly had to
pull over
to weep in a
deserted parking lot.


To let myself fall
apart into
the small pieces
I am losing everyday.


To curl against
my steering wheel
because there is 
nobody there
to hold me.


To wonder
what I am I left
with, when I am broken.
When I am empty
and worthless
and worn out.


But I didn't stop.
I kept driving.
It's the one thing
I can say I'm proud
I did today.


I kept moving forward,
kept wiping at my face,
kept making my 
weak sounds.


Kept on going
because I've got 
nowhere 
else to go. 

Wolf Boy

I'm not myself,
not normal.


Something
in me is uncomfortably 
shifted up or down,
and it is stuck there
right now.


I am not me.


Because I should be really
enjoying this.
But sometimes
in the midst of the
niceness
I feel like screaming
and walking out.


I feel like getting up
and walking outside
and crying
and driving away.


I feel so empty,
sometimes very angry.
Feel like I should
get away.


I just don't know.
But I do know
this isn't how it should be.
This week should be bliss.


But there are so  many moment
where I am feeling
sad or lonely or
misshapen, 
like a pear mushed in
on one side.


I feel like that.
Like someone dropped
me, and I'm sort of oozing,
but my peel is intact.
So that sometimes it doesn't 
feel so bad, but them somebody
presses on the skin and I am reminded.


I should be happy.
Sometimes I forget how.


And I feel 
horrible in my house,
I feel awful.


But it's nice
to sit in a car
and talk about 
life and shortcomings
and things we could/should/would do.


I want to 
get out.
I want to figure it out.
I want to feel good.
And as usual,
I want to grab his face
and kiss him.


Weird,
because none of
the above are going to happen.