i think i need a hobby
because if you are always doing what you love
i don't think i will love it anymore
and going from 1st to 3rd
is not only confusing
but an inconsequential truth of life
i have a new obsession. It is going to KINKOS at midnightish and while my BFF makes copies of her comic book, i dig through the recycle bin and collect all of the copies that were tossed for a variety of reasons. Tonight I got a poster of Adolph Hitler and a chapter from a text book about gender and sex.
I wrote this tonight. It seems about as meaningful as a sock drawer. Necessary but often forgotten.
Her name was Salvation.
and she bore her own crosses
of sorrow and guilt and the pressure of being born
on any other day
that mattered just as much.
Her fingers bled of honesty
and she lost touch with the world outside
when everything that mattered
happened in the plastic pink house
that was nestled in the corner of her perfect life
She never said a word
and nobody questioned her brilliance
she was the bee
the golden seal
the blue ribbon
and the trophies sealed in glass
that sat on the fireplace mantle
echoing the hum of a broken home
Something happened that changed
and you'd think
that by the way she told it
in a mirage of crayola and oil based vibrations
that she was caught in a tundra
of accidentals
but that wasn't it
She was haphazard around sticky linoleum
and roller skate wheels
the kind that only turn a certain way
for a certain kind of girl
and icecream bars shaped like power puff girls
and it's okay when the bubblegum eyes
roll down the drive way
because they hurt her teeth anyways.
Everything became apparent
to everyone around her
but her face turned purple with the thought
that she wouldn't be allowed
to watch staticy Disney on ice
and eat an entire bowl of potato chips
inside her bedroom closet anymore
And it is so simple
it is so relevant
how much it hurts to stop believing.
The fucking end.
"You are condemned to me."
-Shakira
love always,
LS
No comments:
Post a Comment