tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64110559196909981062024-03-14T05:30:32.665-05:00we still find all that we leave behindmelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.comBlogger609125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-34865971115086149692013-05-31T03:22:00.000-05:002013-09-12T03:24:41.301-05:00the direct quoteyes, i<br />
<div>
used my razors on<div>
my arms</div>
<div>
but you took yours to my chest</div>
<div>
flechettes carving wounds criss-</div>
<div>
crossed so deeply</div>
<div>
i thought they'd never heal.</div>
<div>
and now -</div>
<div>
with my clumps of scars</div>
<div>
bisecting this purple-red organ</div>
<div>
of mine</div>
<div>
this insanity of the mind, the</div>
<div>
things i accepted from you</div>
<div>
as if they were my due, <i>yes</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
your marks still live here,</div>
<div>
much as i camouflage them,</div>
<div>
best i can</div>
<div>
your fingerprints in my life -</div>
<div>
and although incessant ache</div>
<div>
has faded into the peculiar</div>
<div>
melancholy of memory, still </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
sometimes i stare at pictures</div>
<div>
of you and wonder</div>
<div>
about a parallel life i'll</div>
<div>
never live, and the way</div>
<div>
life brings us to our knees -</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"<i>i want to love somebody <b>else</b></i></div>
<div>
<i>the way you love <b>me</b></i>."</div>
</div>
melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-26731871254265777842013-03-19T03:11:00.000-05:002013-09-12T03:11:45.331-05:00PUNK!i waited, calling<br />
for the soft, furry body<br />
i knew wouldn't be running to the door,<br />
unlike every morning -<br />
the hesitation of uncertainty<br />
where to look,<br />
<i>who has my cat</i>?<br />
<br />
his loss is bigger,<br />
in this household,<br />
than his body.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-91499188542114323092013-01-04T03:08:00.000-06:002013-09-12T03:09:16.961-05:00"why aren't you writing?"because i'm depressed<br />
because i'm reading - it's like research, okay?<br />
<i>it's too hot </i><br />
<i>it's too cold</i><br />
because poetry doesn't sell well, anyway<br />
<i>i'm too tired</i><br />
because i have no office space<br />
because it's way too crowded in here<br />
<i>stop hassling me about it</i><br />
<i>i feel pressured</i><br />
because i can't figure out what genre i should market it in<br />
<i>i'm busy</i><br />
because i have nothing to say.<br />
<br />
yeah. that last one.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-3086639547440850712012-09-16T03:04:00.000-05:002013-09-12T03:04:24.039-05:00i'm disappointed in youthe type of evening when<br />
needing to be<br />
<i><b>wicked drunk</b></i><br />
does not even begin<br />
to cover itmelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-4259919101464934852012-07-18T03:01:00.000-05:002013-09-12T03:02:25.796-05:00youbleed it out -<br />
the dregs of your mind,<br />
the thoughts you can't leave<br />
behind;<br />
the incessant siren scream of<br />
mania.<br />
panic<br />
the clutching impulse -<br />
anything, nothing, give me<br />
something to drown myself in<br />
the thoughts that spin<br />
and clutch your mouth<br />
<br />
duck, the next hit's coming<br />
and you have no time<br />
to move - quick -<br />
strike them first<br />
before they can get to <i>you</i>melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-37188913114508544162012-04-27T19:01:00.000-05:002012-08-20T19:02:46.648-05:00bibliophileshe reads me<br />
like a book through<br />
a pane of bubbly glass -<br />
the words blur, but<br />
she gets the gist of<br />
the plot<br />
which arcs over our lives<br />
oblivious, uncaring<br />
of the fallout, the<br />
pieces it will leave<br />
behindmelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-68692855583397240442012-03-20T23:03:00.001-05:002012-03-20T23:04:30.583-05:00libraryhow much i miss<br />
my solitude -<br />
the daily walk up<br />
to the writer's room, the<br />
silence full of pen scratchings<br />
<br />
through the rain i'd run, book<br />
tucked under arm,<br />
hood pulled<br />
low over my eyes.<br />
the alone-ache<br />
blending into something i<br />
could live with - a painful<br />
waking <br />
pins and needlesmelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-65615860839649767072012-03-19T22:59:00.004-05:002012-03-20T23:05:22.573-05:00unsatisfiedyou left me gasping, body<br />
[clit] still throbbing<br />
aching for completion<br />
as you sank into slumber<br />
<br />
and i used my tears to water the bed<br />
because it was the one thing<br />
i'd wanted, in a day filled<br />
with a line of spectacularly<br />
shitty things -<br />
i gave up<br />
left my body huddled, alone<br />
drifting in blankets<br />
that were not warmed<br />
by your sleeping heat -<br />
you could have<br />
not been there at allmelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-5011985495841428352012-03-18T22:56:00.000-05:002012-03-20T22:57:40.429-05:00southwestwhat will we remember, when<br />
these years are through? a<br />
scent of dry grass, the unbearable<br />
heat of a scorching sun -<br />
agavemelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-31305212984402067972012-03-17T22:52:00.002-05:002012-03-20T22:52:50.553-05:00speechlessmy dull, bleeding mouth<br />
chewed in indecision,<br />
the moments<br />
when i bite back<br />
words - the<br />
things i do not say<br />
drowning<br />
in my mouthmelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-72125126294835673392012-03-13T22:48:00.002-05:002012-03-20T22:51:14.474-05:00a household obscuredlanguid evening<br />
smoke curling around<br />
the air, hugging<br />
the walls & ceiling<br />
smoke drowning it all -<br />
the noise of tv, the dishwasher's<br />
dull hum<br />
is lost in haze<br />
[a household obscured]melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-24824215919759700122012-03-07T22:45:00.004-06:002012-03-20T23:06:27.595-05:00stormi wish it would rain<br />
hard,<br />
wash away<br />
all my anger -<br />
the resentment i hold close,<br />
the lack of brightness<br />
to my days.<br />
if i am dark, the sky, also<br />
should join the night.<br />
the wet grass, water streaming<br />
from my car as i accelerate, &<br />
stop.<br />
the people slouch along, as if<br />
the clouds press them more firmly<br />
to the earth.<br />
i straighten my shoulders, take my place<br />
in my environment.<br />
let the rain fall,<br />
let this all wash away.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-56448913418130000422012-02-29T22:41:00.006-06:002012-03-20T22:44:06.287-05:00cloud bloodsomeone (who?)<br />
i don't remember<br />
called it cloud blood and it's true<br />
today, after last night's hail<br />
tapping me to sleep, brittle<br />
against the windows.<br />
they predicted tornadoes<br />
running through the channel<br />
of the city. none came -<br />
my disappointment, instead.<br />
i settle in<br />
for another week in<br />
corporate hell, use<br />
my illicit nail polish<br />
to stain my fingers an<br />
unobtrusive shade, armor<br />
against the constant application<br />
of soap and bleach water.<br />
the chemicals leach into my skin.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-19530056950985428492012-02-21T22:53:00.002-06:002012-03-20T22:54:08.753-05:00the shamei do not<br />
miss you<br />
although<br />
i wanted tomelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-25655355265035576772012-02-20T22:37:00.005-06:002012-03-20T22:40:34.057-05:00clockfits & starts<br />
the ricochet forward, and<br />
fall<br />
backwards, languidly<br />
time lacking<br />
a center to cement to.<br />
the flying - faster,<br />
breathless<br />
rushing ache of it -<br />
and the dull backwash<br />
of hours moving sludgelike<br />
in the center.<br />
the years so fast,<br />
this month will never end.<br />
this week can't go by soon enough.<br />
only four hours<br />
before i can go. oh god. four<br />
hours - an eternity -melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-48105304500030735652012-02-12T21:34:00.000-06:002012-02-12T21:34:02.086-06:00[even if i hardly use them]i've been stockpiling<br />
razors again<br />
it always helps to calm<br />
my mindmelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-64886895628312325522012-02-10T21:30:00.008-06:002012-02-12T21:33:02.182-06:00distinctthe scars keep coming<br />
& the only thing that worries me<br />
is that others might<br />
see these marks i paint<br />
into my flesh<br />
and believe<br />
i'm too crazy to be competent -<br />
i've never worried<br />
about opinions,<br />
but it has occurred to me<br />
that my arms might<br />
paint a picture of a person<br />
far more unstable than<br />
i am today - i don't want<br />
people to see a mental case<br />
i want my arms to testify<br />
to my great will<br />
to <b>survive</b>melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-82165490653925002122012-02-01T21:22:00.003-06:002012-02-12T21:25:11.571-06:00full timethe concrete floor<br />
presses ache into my spine<br />
pacing the same spot<br />
for hours, giving others<br />
my time<br />
downing the free coffee<br />
to stay awake.<br />
snatched hours of sleep -<br />
never enough to wake in anything<br />
but a panic - the<br />
rushing, rising sun sharp<br />
against my windshield.<br />
they say to take my<br />
piercings out -<br />
of course<br />
i don't comply.<br />
i do not blend here,<br />
the tired girl<br />
rubbing her eyes,<br />
wiping the lack<br />
of sleep on her pants.<br />
order:<br />
latte, mocha,<br />
CD/S/L - NF<br />
americano, half-caf -<br />
rinse & repeat -<br />
the code of coffee.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-62522859335831209292012-01-13T21:11:00.000-06:002012-02-12T21:15:45.422-06:00markedi think there will be<br />
no part of this life<br />
that will not stain me,<br />
leave me scarred.<br />
my wrists ache in the<br />
morning, now -<br />
another reminder that the<br />
invincibility of youth<br />
inevitably wanes.<br />
i live in the in-between,<br />
the light and dark,<br />
the gloaming<br />
which makes me blurry, indistinct.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-39441317200097345772011-12-19T21:17:00.006-06:002012-02-12T21:22:06.855-06:00to pretendi met a fellow poet<br />
plying his trade, paid<br />
by the flowing wealth of Big Football,<br />
as we all were,<br />
playing the fantasy of New orleans<br />
for people who have their names<br />
on buildings, faces<br />
on alumni magazines -<br />
the types who never<br />
ended up with their feet<br />
in the gutters, to see<br />
the poets who<br />
perform on the streets.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-77350982195139363422011-11-07T21:05:00.006-06:002012-02-12T21:11:39.551-06:00louisianathe coolness of air<br />
poised over a swamp<br />
murky and green<br />
with gators basking<br />
in the remainder of the<br />
heat of the sun.<br />
now the air bites<br />
through my sweater<br />
and i wish for warmer clothing<br />
a jacket, pants.<br />
i'd kill for coffee but settle<br />
for lukewarm water.<br />
i smile when necessary.<br />
sneak away when i can<br />
find the time - i often wonder<br />
how i got here - this place,<br />
town, job - and<br />
i remember there is<br />
no reason, only randomness.<br />
only senselessness.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-11659149103977215082011-10-25T21:00:00.006-05:002012-02-12T21:04:55.345-06:00heroin[e]the slick needle<br />
slid out of its packaging<br />
i watched her ritual<br />
powder, cotton, water,<br />
syringe. she did it<br />
again.<br />
i wouldn't let her pierce<br />
my skin. took the rubber<br />
band, wound it tight<br />
tapped air to the surface<br />
a little squirt, a dribble<br />
of clear.<br />
my veins have always<br />
stood at attention<br />
for me<br />
but especially<br />
this night<br />
waiting for the sting<br />
a raw rush, i<br />
new to this world.<br />
i watched her eyes dilate, beautifully<br />
felt my own respond<br />
in kind<br />
as she kissed the perfect dot of red<br />
left behind.<br />
first try bullseye<br />
and i finally understood<br />
these hows & whys<br />
<br />
the second time, i<br />
let her,<br />
fascinated by the intake<br />
of my blood into the<br />
chamber, right before<br />
the plunge.<br />
she held her arm out for me -<br />
and i recall knowing<br />
that she was gentler with me<br />
than my hands could ever bemelaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-49662243592564671212011-08-12T20:57:00.008-05:002012-02-12T21:00:03.462-06:00new citynight -<br />
our walls are strange,<br />
and i am listening<br />
to the trains<br />
as they sing<br />
in harmonies.<br />
we are close<br />
enough that i can hear<br />
the clicking tracks.<br />
day -<br />
i stare at our<br />
inherited patch of grass,<br />
wondering where to plant my trees<br />
that they might root,<br />
something<br />
i never seem<br />
to know how to do.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-79586137930982752742011-07-06T00:49:00.001-05:002011-11-27T00:50:18.170-06:00youmake sure to lie,<br />
past your lips<br />
and straight through<br />
your teeth.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6411055919690998106.post-72135059334435496272011-06-02T00:45:00.000-05:002011-11-27T00:48:19.684-06:00gay as i want to bemy father paved the way:<br />
divorced my mother<br />
and learned<br />
at 54<br />
how to become<br />
what he had always been.<br />
i admired him, mired<br />
as i was<br />
in the dying embers of self-denial<br />
the three years<br />
of running away from pain<br />
encapsulated in the memories<br />
of betrayal.<br />
<br />
in that fear<br />
i betrayed myself.<br />
<br />
now, my father recommends places<br />
so wonderfully gay<br />
i marvel at the fact that he<br />
ever became this comfortable with himself<br />
at all.<br />
<br />
i stepped into this world<br />
wanting so badly<br />
to become a part of something<br />
bigger than myself.<br />
my dad<br />
the unlikely pioneer<br />
in this journey.<br />
i am proud<br />
of us.melaenishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08295219441455521954noreply@blogger.com0