One Giant Failing Leap

I’m jumping off a long high rise into a cauldron of space
smashing my head into a glass window
full of tiny porcupine needles to feel the thrill in it all
This is what it feels like to go into a hyperactive shock
Jumping and moving and telling everything
all with shaky hands and twitchy fingers
tie me to an airplane and send me to the moon and back
and I would bow at your feet like a dog
This is what it feels to be already gone
three miles down the road
praying for a truck to zoom its way into my body
So I could catch it with my ballerina’s feet
and kick it into oblivion
like myself
into a place so deep and down that my bubble pops
and I’m lost in a moving nothingness
that consumes my skin like a parasite
starving for its next meal
When I’m all gone
but still present in every single last thing
that decides to wink
and show their Cheshire’s teeth
at a wife pricked with nerves and booze
while her husband stands two feet away
looking at the produce aisle as if it was his last meal
Growling to get to apples
ripe and plump and young
Much nicer than the saggy pears decomposing with age
I’d settle for floating again to nothing
as my crazy leg bounds across the table
like a jackhammer set on high
And that shoulder pain
pinching my testy nerves
and my flapping tongue
and my roaming eyes
always roaming
they never stop to take a rest
what for?
let me be that roller coaster
forever in loop
Dizzy spinning youths
until they throw up from too much regret
until it comes crashing down in some magnificent explosion
I was that clown standing too close to that inferno
I’ll get burned to a crisp catching a flaming child
in my fragile hands
Handing it to that lady begging for her child to survive
a hundred more children died
their screams melt into my pounding head
But I’m relishing in my dancing fingers
flying, crashing, burning
I’m already speeding up
washing the old out
and flushing my system with the new
The waves of energy leak through my pores
Makes them big and unattractive
Makes the boys run away
and gives the girls hives
I’m oozing yellow like a pimple
Then I finally fall down on red

 

 

 

 

Rambling of a New-found North Wind

Take a step in my direction

come closer,

no.  really look at me.

observe my fuzzy lines and changing angles.

Notice I havent yet faded?

I’ve just switched  my colors

from a solid green to yellowed, rainbow pinstripes.

I am different;

I am changing.


Sometimes, I feel like I am not who I am supposed to be.  Not that who I am is bad.  Just that I never saw myself here, not physically, but personality-wise.

So when I think about reverting, going back to the old me or who I think I am supposed to be; I reject the idea within minutes.  First, I think, ‘What a great exterior that would be.’  Then I realize just how unhappy I would be.

So, I am accepting the changing, the shaping, the unknowing.  I’m going to tumble where the wind blows me.  I don’t want to be tied down, yet I don’t want to be lost to all.   There is a sort of balance I strive for, which, I know will take a long time to achieve.  Somehow, it’s like I won’t be happy until I can follow my heart, but I also want someone to help guide me along the way from time to time.  It’s sort of a give and take.  It just isn’t as easy as staying still and stagnant, which I can’t do.

I don’t care that it might take years; I accept the challenge.

Since I was in junior high, I wanted to become familiar with every inch of land on this earth.  I wanted to feel every ray of sun and moon, and touch every drop of ocean and sea.  I wanted a new perspective because I knew the one I had was not the only one to have, and that bothered me.  I need variety.  I need change.

Before now–today, sitting right here typing this–I had been stuck on the past.  I was stuck on everything that had ever bruised or brushed me, good or bad.

I think I am done with that.  I think that from now on I am going to try to transition into a new sight, a completely different outlook on person.  I used to see all those cheesy quotes like, “It’s not where you came from, it’s where you’re headed”.  I would look at them and think, ‘no.’  But now, I find sort of a truth in it.  It does matter where I came from, but not as much as I previously had thought.

I am headed wherever I choose.  Not one word of my past will whisper my future, because if people can change immensely, so can fate.