Right?

I write from all the heartburn. 
I write from solo states.
I write down words to help me breathe - the breath when I create.
I write to slow it down . . . the time.
I write to shield my 'cold.'
I write rhymes sometimes, no rhymes at all, the rhyme in rhythm and soul.

I write the voice that people hear when thoughts come out irate.
I write to give my thoughts some time when dark burns, I'm awake.
I write when twisted seasons change and hurt the process healed.
I write, sometimes I have no song, no friend, no woe appeal.

I write as patience passes by, I view my life in speed.
I write, no schedule or thing to do
I write this gaping need. 

I write to feel alive again, the 'going gets so tough'
I do not write these words to you and think it is enough.

Type what?

Type what?
What do you want me to type?
Happy faces???
Ohhhhhhhhh that type!
The type that makes you wait, the type that keeps your concentrate. 
Type to do the things you don't want him to do. 
Which type did we . . . experience?
Typing movements out in floor patterns.
Not carefully - bored by block, but boastfully breaking bounds
Its imprinted now - I see nothing else
What's written can not be backspaced~

I type the type I only dream of
and hug - what dreams may come?
Writing woes in video~
Each type like pen paper prints peeking out like braille
Type A? or Type B? Which type are U 4 me?
Which type am I - 4 (letter word) - U?

A type cast from the faces I've seen once before. 
Those journeys leaving closed, only locked-latched doors.
Memories that mode my moody mental state-
A type writer carefully punched, then space? . . . me moved to - literally, another state.
Yup! That typeface - that design - i shake my head and wonder WHY?
What? When? Where? Y and How?
Typed letters on my face?
C . . .  [D] - b - a - letter only to erase.

Hmmmmm how do you type? my name down your thoughts
I listen when you talk, but I don't 'walk the walk.'
I'm typed out by all of this! 
'A 4-page letter' not enough 
I can only type page by page, not nerves, but numbers and words

In age, my blog - my bird cage . . . I H.I.D.E. away with songs
Fright feathers frame my face . . . aaaaaccccchhhoooo!
Wait! what do you say? 
Ohhhhhh! [God bless you] 
but pause in thought before I type -  
I, B the 1 blessing you!

My demeanor is now pre-typed for the many days to come
'a love like . . . ' what? 
That types words
in dance, I held a gun. 

----------
2 days ago I watched you - on screen
And I watched you yesterday, remembering who you are
. . . only in my dreams. 

.Mate in Music.

I make believe my mate will be like every song I PLAY

the words remind me of Xscape, no more rainy days

I fall asleep to the melodies, indeed 'speak calm to me'

my diary melts modes of silent breath, Alicia I am, alive I'll be . . . 

The slower the jam, the louder the sound - as it hits my ears

I concentrate only by the way, the moment,  Jill feeds my fears 

I hike Hills in my mellow state

which cures the slightest ache

The sweetest thing I've ever known, my neck tilt side - I sighed a warm heart rate

Messages read aloud - no conference call, just me, oh me

my casual sitting still, I imagine. . . PAUSE - a small bit . . . free~

I call him when I'm lonely, laughing, hurting . . . cold.

He teaches my hum-a-along, Musiq passing pastures far from gold

I usually ask for guide as I sail from battle places

I harbor in my soul, tongueless speeches, no lucky Aces

(I hope no one is watching as I dance with him 

                                                                             so beautifully)

Please don't STOP the music(q)! lengthy lyrics craze after you

I bow down to your presence, BUT you lift me, morning due!

I can't help but play your songs, one by one, but on & on

I rock like Erykah in my thoughts, coming up with steady songs 

I wonder if Anthony understands . . . the point of present mysteries

I feel safe as I hear you, your handsome tone, I 'whooooooo' - your tune. 

The REject - Part 2.

I REpositioned my thoughts to something more appealing.
Eyes upon the ceiling, searching deep to find some healing.

I REconnected my mind to head out! push through new gates
watching my stomach ache, whispering words I viewed, I (h)ate.

I REdirected my focal . . . point in the right direction.
seeking 'calm in storm' from fingers fondling [text obsession.]

I REset present pastures I walked just wks . . . no more?
realizing the noble lesson that kept me no longer guessin'.

I REevaluated in the morning as most memories fade with sun
found 'love' in a body-double - who slithered inside my bed for fun!

I REsigned this post agreement I've given to myself
= To never drop lines in open spaces, the heart - keep on the shelf!

I REcreate my life, broken pieces in filled wine
dancing sorrow, mate in music, inspiration: let go of time . . . lost

I REaddressed my piercings with breath and things to do
facing happy moments shared, I never knew? 

I never knew. 

Bluebird 2010.

Bluebird 2010 - I saw you today. When Sara B and I met, it was one of the best moments of my life. You made my best friend cry. She was leaving. I was leaving. We both were about to live 2 separate lives. I just didn't know at the time that Bluebird of 2010 was 'the end.' You never think that "this is the end." We hope moments never do, though it did. If only a bluebird could become a white dove - I could send it to her with love. 

In Bluebird 2010 - we were back to back. I had long hair? Braids. haha Wait! Was there snow? It was after class - a messy one - an emotional one - a 'michael jackson one?' - Smile. Oh! That song . . . the improv selection for the night - super slow. Even though, we were approaching our last days . . . that class, those songs, carefully thought out. 

We packed. We wrote letters. We changed our minds.

Bluebird 2010, I never taught you again. The memory. The time. It couldn't be recaptured. It wouldn't have the same feeling. It wouldn't be . . . blue. :)

What do we do now my little Bluebird? Archive? Press Replay? Maybe one day  we can dance the dance we danced so well. 

--------

Dedicated to Arsineh Ananian. 

Giving thanks?

My chest burns rapid thoughts.
My eyes squint, forehead ponder.
My breathing deepens slowly.

I quietly groan.

A brief second I encounter, every occurring waking moment.

I pause. I sit in silence.
I quietly groan.

The holiday rush of people in fallen leaves, and moments -  seem like flashbacks on bare back. The leaves are falling pictures . . .

I pause and quietly groan.

I wonder what it feels like, to have this cheerful glow - the fallen snow is soon behind - the season I remember most. The season is what changed me - my hand draws quick away - I can only stay a little while - watch midnight turn to day.

I pause and sit in silence. I conjure up the some words - cleaver if I may, together giving thanks - I happen to pull away. My eyes are burning now from media picking my brain . . .

I pause and sit in silence, quietly groan, breathing 'space.'

I wait to hear my soul. I thank the quiet murmur - I applaud and give myself a pinch if wide awake.

------
work in progress.
12/12

IGNORants

Ignorance.
Ignorance is bleak?
Ignore me as we speak.
Ignorant being.
Be careful with your ignorant behavior.
Behave no more from that word - ignore
It made you sore
Me sore
Me Soar!
Soar high -  I couldn't come down; I ignored your message.
Your messed up message . . . 
Made me mistake meanings of mass destruction
Massively long texts 
written like pages, flown by paper airplanes
repeatedly painfully taking pricks at my skin
Again and again, this sin, this sin

To send or not to send?
That is the question. 
Quick answer = let it burn before you bust into babbling beatings
Control your being by being . . . still
Quiet
Breathless
Be . . . 
Before you ignore

Ignore me?
Why me?
Ignoring is oh! so boring!
I guess your heart stopped in snoring
You fell asleep? Is that the story?
I guess this sleep lasted till morning.
I wake up, you've still ignored me.

Next day. Forget I'm lurking?
Listening by phone to alert me.
the A B C,  the 1 2 3
It's Oh So blimpin' easy! 
Forget the key that sends to me?
I, no longer have the patience
the time
the will 
the power
I've stayed up every hour
waiting . . . burglar, prowler!

Fascinating control you have
remotely no change in channels
. . . still sitting by the TV
Can you PLEASE send blank to me?
Record-breaking Guinness Book
: the least buttons typed in ages
I've aged since you ignored me last
This bliss you must be seeking?

Excuse me? Excuse me? 
Hello? Do you hear me?
I'm on the other side
1 - 800 - swallow your pride! 
---------

work in progress. 

Behind the Scenes: HIDE.

HIDE.

Heal Inside Doors Engraved . . .

We sometimes HIDE as a protective shield for ourselves. We hope that if we HIDE people will begin to see us differently. We've placed this band-aid over our pain, in hopes that when we take it off - the surface has already healed itself.

DOORS are like walls - walls we put up as a coping mechanism.

ENGRAVED is exactly what it is: a cut, something permanently fixed in. 'Cuts' cause us pain and some pain is not always easy to alleviate. It may leave a permanent scar that needs HEALing. . .

We seem to retreat INSIDE. It's like finding a coin in the far corner of your sweatpants pocket. To dig down deep inside is considered HIDdEn territory. We retreat into quiet and secluded places, in order to withdraw, move back into ourselves, change decisions, paths, plans, attitudes. Revealing the inside pocket - like a fist into an open hand.

What happens when our 'behind the scenes' is 'open to the public?'

Outward Damage Grazes Gates

: The DAMAGE we once felt is no longer like a deep cut - it's barely touching the surface, barely causing you pain. It has become a minor scrape only GRAZing the skin. (Helping you to move on) The doors we once closed are now open GATES to a new feeling . . . a renewed sense of self . . . experiencing emotions all over again, laughter maybe? (the best medicine). The retreat is now over and we begin to 'live again,' OUTWARDly express . . . 

DISCLOSE.

NOT hide.