confession

today i got home and parked my car. i went into my room to shake off my day. i did a good practice. it changed me but my craving did not cease. i walked around...i walked to the bank...i went to nature mart...i did the ultimate pace around the blocks where i live.

i ended up at the counter of the liquor store. maybe you know where this is going by now.

i asked for them. today was special edition: they came in a tin. oooh. affirmation that it was meant to be?

i slid into my SF skin. my late teens, early 20s, the me that walked around lake merced, the me that let herself get stuck in a weird relationship, the me that would make life long friends, the me that made copies for people and worked in retail. the me that would struggle to feel like she was home in any other city. this version shook hands with someone who knew better but was able to look back with pride, ownership and grace.

wiser hands pulled a cigarette out of that pack like the first time.

wiser hands wearing her love watch and mala beads,

who now lived down the street, is finding love, is working hard at what feels like everything, is growing her hair out, is letting go of what needs to go and letting in whatever's right.

she is a teacher now, who has lovers but will drop everything for just That one,

who is steadiest on her bare feet and looks best in her undies,

who feels like all she's learning is to unlearn and teach others to unlearn and be their unraveled selves and love it.

wiser hands stumbled a cigarette out of that fancy tin and

lit it up.

two brown eyes watched the tiny orange glow of their own personal sweat lodge.

lips sucked in the smoke.

almost immediately a guy on a bike asked for one. he had a good eye. he must have done that

often...waiting for more like her.

we bend the rules. we are authentic. we get the point across. we go full circle when we least expect it and it feels good.

doing laundry and being captured

i need a spin cycle

then a good go-round in the dryer.

i might not live through it, but at the very least i will feel

fresh, hot, and cuddly.

in this madness i celebrate my craving

to be squeezed... held captive in a mountain of bed sheets and hot laundry.

i dream of that capture:

i'll be busy, real "busy" doing things like sorting through books and papers,

pretending to care about mail that will end up in a pile,

when i am tackled against my will (but not really),

grabbed, tickled and

kissed, execution style.

the rifle of your warm mouth, exploding my face,

will not rest.

i will be bound and gagged ( i can take it).

bury me in all the silence that results in the muting of all this earth noise.

send a live-feed digital account of my being held prisoner to wherever i was

before i was with you.

the lighting will flutter. i will give the camera a peace sign and thumbs up.

peel me back and light me up.

somewhere out there

you are my heaven and i want it now.

sometimes i forget

sometimes i forget

sometimes i forget

how secure i was,

how captured i was,

how good you felt,

how right things were,

how my reality showed my dreams up,

looking in the face of desire and fantasy and told them to take a hike,

and everything was justified.

now i justify nothing.

there is no need. i feel stripped.

returned to this home

and though my things are glad to see me,

i forgot how to use them.

i wait for a bell to wake me up because i cannot feel you reaching in the morning.

i am a strange prisoner now,

sitting here amazed at how free i felt while being gripped so tightly.

los angeles

i am off limits tonite.

this whole "tough guy" act starts to wear on a girl who's a hopeless romantic living in the part of town where couples go on dates and walk their adorable dogs down the street while holding hands.

there were a few repeating patterns to today: garages, defeated men, and awkward moments.

i wonder if i'm a healer because i've crushed a man's soul so mercilessly. i don't ever want to have to do that again. now i see women treat their men badly and wonder if they've forgotten that they were the world to him once. i wonder about relationships and miss feeling close to someone. i am letting myself drown in this feeling tonite. if my heart were a mouth it would be chewing foil. i felt this on the freeway. i almost lost hope on the drive home tonite.

it's not as simple as i thought. not that i thought it was simple to begin with, i guess i'm just less comfortable with this gypsy state that i'm in. i've never missed someone this much. i know how men can still feel good and not be the one you really really really want. i want to spill my guts just to get a reaction. i want to hide in my bed and only peel myself out of it when he's ready to love me. i don't want to become someone so independent that they rule so hard at their job and forget how to lean into a cuddle or close their eyes when they kiss. i can't. i might be incapable of those things, thank god.

the thing is, i found someone that i want and right now i'm sick of waiting, sick of trusting, sick of being alone, knowing that i cannot settle, knowing that this is just passing, but i want to cry my way out of it like a four-year-old child.

i don't care if there's danger in it. i just don't wanna feel like an idiot. but hey, that's life.

i've done stupider things for lesser men. i have learned that maybe some people don't get scared off by bold enough behavior.

i want to get so tiny.

i want to hold on and cling.

i want to scream into my pillow and have the words pop up in his sleep.

i want to throw a fucking tantrum about it and have that be it, BUT NO, i have to dive into my emotions to grow from this.

in the process of making the path to my breakthroughs, i've discovered these feelings. i am happy but feeling everything. i am the unexplained. i know that maybe i'm alone in this...by choice.

to the dude, to the chick, to the yogi, to the voyeur: all y'all can suck it.