14 August, 2012

Giving too much


The what-went-before
 gone finally let me go, 
or I let go of it
                  and just fell 
right on by the now
    the just-Be-moment
                 and drifted like a red balloon               high on the winds of the future
Escaped from my burden 
  to only gad about
  painting the frown red
        digging endless trenches 
        looking for meaning and Identity
 I cracked up a bit
    when I saw that sacred 
         yolk running 
                 down my leg
 you’d feel gross too
 if it was you 
                      doing the leaking
 I leaked it all
                       walking, 
                      standing, 
                      talking, 
                    running from the pain of being me
 I showed up wounded
                              and you clapped at my disfigurement
 Let you run fingers over 
        all the stories in my scars
I told you everything.
                                                 and then
                                                                       I had nothing private left 
                                                                                    All this touching
                                                                                all this poetry on
                                                               my private spaces
                                                                       lost to crowds with hungry faces
                                                               pleading peaceably
for some of my pieces back
                                                                                        Maybe I did
                                    stop collecting souvenirs when mom died 
                                                                  but
                                                 telling the whole world 
                                               where I wash my clothes
                                     won’t raise the dead-ends to overpasses

       I shouldn’t have 
                                  let you all voyeur in on me so often
       I shouldn’t have
                                  invited you all to watch me skinny dip
                                                                                  in a pool of my own fears
you were there in goggles 
for my last rectal exam
                                       but we went deeper than that though, didn’t we?
                                                                                maybe I took it too far
                                         when I said you could fuck me with a strap-on
maybe I said it 
just to make you love me                                                  more, or enough
       I should have taken better care of myself
            and thought a little less
                     about 
                   what you thought of  me
                                              that’s why I stopped shaving a face I can’t see
a little step 
in a hard-long-walk out
                               the suicides and slaveries are left behind
I'm not asking for permission
to be me 
                anymore.

for now,  
          sit tight
watch this meteor shower with me
                            like the world is ending 
                                                               all over again


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