small things

i wish for small things.
like the drill bit not to break.
for men to be as soft as the soil is here.
for cousins to smile.
i wish for small things like the equation between you and i finally being solved.
i wish for the spirituality in me to be found.
i wish for the pictures to never turn out better than what they're being taken of.
i wish men were as strong as these redwoods.
i wish for small things like christmas coffee mugs filled with tea.
for someone to remember me.
for the captain's chair.
for my body to be covered in my history.
for the future to come as slow as it wants.
i wish for small things like tiny fish on the end of my pole.
for my creativity to be rewarded even halfheartedly.
for criticism that means something.
for greasy pliers and softer sandpaper.
i wish for small things like the roosters giving up.
like my mother's ashes making it here safely.
like my brother knowing how much he's loved.
like my dad dying peacefully in his sleep.
i wish for small things like small victories and small treasures.
like smiles.
like handshakes.
like gestures.
small things.

like small things that are much greater than they sound.

ignorant little girls who shouldn't speak

i guess you could say i ruined thanksgiving last night...

got into an arguement about prop 8 with 2 homophobes (who happen to be my uncle and my grandma's boyfriend)...

and then about 9/11 with people who think that the news stations(abc, nbc, fox) are all legitimate in reporting the truth...

when i asked my grandma's boyfriend "what if i was gay...would you not want me to have the same opportunity as you? To be happy? to get married if i wanted?"

he said "homosexuals are gross...it's not natural..."

i asked him if it made any difference whatsoever in his life, if the gay guys up the street want to get married, and he said "yeah, it's disgusting and they just want tax breaks...marriage should be between a man and a woman"

i got so heated...that i almost threw my plate at the wall...

instead, i spoke in a quiet voice, and tried my damndest to show that he was wrong, bigoted, homophobic, and a fucking asshole to boot.

he then said "you're an ignorant little girl"...and told my cousin "you didn't vote, so you can't talk about any of this"...

her dad, my uncle, then said that "most gays, are pedophiles"
wwhaaaaaaaaat?!?!?!

i left with courtney, walked down the stairs, and just as i got to the bottom, i ran back to the top, went into the house, and yelled "OH, BY THE WAY, I STOLE THE MCCAIN SIGN OUT OF THE YARD"...

WE spent the night at my bosses other house(while his tenant is away)...i got high, drunk on champagne...and went to sleep...

- something new i'm working on.



i push my fingers into my ears as deep as they will go...
goddamn! i wish i couldn't hear myself anymore...
pretty enough to get the job, but not too pretty that there will be a distraction...
this old man's eyes are speaking of troubled times ahead. he will not let me leave.
except by the blade.
this scar's been here for 12 days too long, and i still haven't had a cigarette.
if i was a little bit stronger, i'd have one.
but i am weak, cowering before myself like a child before a belt...
i won't let myself go places.
because being late is far more scary than getting lost.
these creeks are carrying with them, my childhood disillusion and the sand which i bagged to wall up this...overwhelming sadness...
and we all need to drain out.

sometime.

progress

driving into town...
ivy hung down freeway barricades...
like my mother's hair hung down her back...
trucks rip through autumn leaves on back country roads, like i want to rip through life...
"this was her birthright," i thought...
not her home...
as i'm quite sure my home...is somewhere i have yet to discover...
the trees sheet the mountains to remind me of the past, and how much is left for me to find...
the wool is still over my eyes, but it...is so warm there.
small treasures and pleasures and only pausing to smile because this...was all...on the same planet...in the same country...one state away...
the family i have here...will teach me...in the best ways possible...and with sensitivity...how to be a man...they will teach me how to hunt and gather...how to fix a car...the right way to cut firewood...how to build a fire, and what time of year is best...
but it will be the woman in me that still knows when's best to burn...
there's something comforting about being this hot and not being on fire...

where i'm at

today, i'm in a place of slow settling peace.
i know now, that what i need is to not be able to see over the trees.
i need to lose mysef in the mountains, and cleanse myself clean in the american river.
a baptism a long time coming.
the journey thus far has been paved in angst ridden scripture.
holy words for a holey soul.

when do lies become the only thing we read as truth?
when does so much beauty in a town, make me see the ugliness in a city?

the manzanita dances to the tune of the sun.and i will follow it's lead.
i can't remember the last time i lied to anyone except myself.
people say i just don't talk about the truth, and that's about the same as lying.
but my heart is nearly pure.

it's been baked, and skewered, and cooked, and seared, and eaten raw.
what i have left.
feels good.'
feels real.

is yours.

i will forget

i will forget whatever it is that spilled from the lips of the fool that broke me into pieces.
i will collect them, and carry them with me in hopes that one day, this world will be what i need, and i'll be able to put them together again.
i'll hope that one day, i'll be able to truly see what's inside of me, and feel okay with that.
i need a home, too.
and everywhere i look...i can't find it.
it's hard to find a home inside the heart of someone who's not on your side...but it's not even about sides.
my side is the only one that matters.
i'm fearing the fall, so i'm not standing close to edges, and i'm not experiencing life as i need it to be felt.
i'm hoping that i find a home, and an honest love when i leave.
love of myself.
love for others.love.
just love.

because i hate myself tonight.

and i'm hoping with all my heart that what i'm looking for is as easy as getting there.

devilwoman

i'm fixated on just what it is that makes a man tick.
why fragility...such as human spirit...and the wind...
are not enough to make sense of it.
why we are all so selfish at the worst times to the best people.
why there is no remorse.
no apologies.
no hugs to those we hurt.
why we feel the need to "get back" at eachother.
why we can't leave well enough alone and get on with it.
with life.
with starting over.
fresh.
i've had my share of instances where i was willing to sacrifice the only thing i had, just to please someone.
myself.
and i've been disconnected, and retracted, and subjected, and affected, and i can't quite figure out how to get those terrible things that were said and done out of my head.
protect yourself.
proJECT yourself.
speak free verse but do it with a smile.
flail your hands around, reach for the sky, caress those breasts, and do it with emphasis, kid!
because your voice is too quiet.
make it so that god could hear you if he was ever listening.
make it so that that man that hurt you, can feel it through to his core.
make it so that one day, they'll all remember your name.
who cares about your face.
or your words.
or what you had to say.
but...you have to say it.
you have to.

stuck

he puts on the expensive cologne i bought him for his birthday last year so he can attract cheap women.
and my heart is on it's knees praying he finds happiness, and that i find mine, too.
we deserve it.
but it's seeming that it won't be found in eachother.
because the night is too long to get by alone.
but it's the way it has to be.