Monday, February 28, 2011

do you want a receipt?

last night I dreamed big

photographs of growing up
spread across a red wall

a childhood, exposed to light
in a controlled manner

woke up tomorrow,
February’s 6 am blues

whistling trees, birds with ambition
it's the first it could be the first,
something

Sunday, February 27, 2011

don't believe in ghosts

my father's beard, blank pages
white out, the smell of

trouble at the dinner table,
correction doesn't come in a bottle

white sheets, no good
shoes will get dirty so easily

little girl, skinned my knee
my mother said to believe in ghosts


children should be seen, not heard
squeezed my knee to make it look worse.

places and people, people going places

STAY COLD, Massachusetts
walking through the pieces of a broken 7-11 sign,
I remember- the sun in my eyes at eight o clock
the color of independence day
STOP FOR A SECOND to see the puppies
a store window- Allston, Massachusetts
two dogs, chained dreamers
it's beautiful here, don't you see?
(we are not puppies anymore)
go ahead, shake hands with winter
you've got yourself a deal!
stay cold, stay cold, stay
HERE, Massachusetts
dreamers, on display

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

HOW HAVE YOU BEEN, HOW ARE THINGS?

Don't know what time it is, too busy running out of it

EVERYTHING IS WONDERFUL, EVERYTHING IS GREAT
We're together now- it's August
can't look out the window, it's beautiful out there
SHUT IT OUT
slept through autumn, missed something
tired of looking at the sun, tired of-
tired, so tired

September sun- don't exist
3 am, two missed calls
(didn't miss them, just you)
I couldn't do what's up/what are you doing/how are you
(NOTHING, WE'VE GOT NOTHING)
clumsy, will not last
HERE I AM, STRANDED
sleeping in your clothes,
a ghost was here, maybe
so strange amongst your things, bare legs, bed too big I think but-
(I forget)

WHAT IF-
I don't say the right things, I'm worried
that I'm too busy worrying about saying the the right things
can't really say, not can't like shouldn't, can't like
(I haven't found the words yet)
oh, I love you much more
than I will ever be able to say
(I haven't found the words)

midnight in November-
"I won't let you leave"
you walked out the door,
THIS IS MY HOUSE, YOU CAN'T


Shaela is playing the guitar and I'm thinking-
what a dumb fucking girl I am
head in the clouds, a million books I shouldn't have read
imagining someone like you, glasses.
WHAT A DUMB FUCKING GIRL.
Ugly inside, can't look at anyone- they'll notice
tired of people asking, tired of people talking.
Little birds can't look at me;
shut down, go through the motions-
drugs, give me drugs, where are you?
Alright during the day, running in circles
forgetting myself, nothing to say really.
Maybe that should make me nervous,
it feels pretty good.
(I FORGET EVERYTHING)

I just, don't know what to say
I don't think there's anything to say

Must be nice, growing up with people-
living in the same places.
Really nice, sticking around.
(this is easy, I bet you're so busy)

FOR HALF A SECOND, EVERYTHING IS GREAT
So I talk about it, then blink-
it's bad again
Look at you all, doing the dishes-
don't look at me for reassurance
I haven't got anything for any of you.
Exhausted, someone says
what did you do today,
how have you been? I think
(I DON'T WANT TO SHARE ANY OF THIS WITH YOU)
sorry, normally I give myself to everyone but I'm tired of it.
I'm so tired of it because look what happens?
Judith gets peppermint in her coffee today,
Triple venti soy laughter, the business man
as dry as foam-I say "shit's shit" about Christmas.
I like him from this distance, behind everything
(at least I know now)
DON'T PUSH IT, GET AWAY
here we all are, here we are every day together.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, ARE YOU OKAY?
(everything familiar pushed inside a stranger)
oops, I confused your friends with mine, it snowed
that night we forgot about what if-
WHAT IF YOU GROW UP
(WHAT IF I SHUT UP)
what if I let you stay?
it's not so great but still-
better than the cold of this house or any morning alone.
I found letters from the summer last night,
they made it seem understandable


February, fucked in the head-
thinking about terrible things, like milk
(non-fat, 2%, whole, no please, no)
GET UP, STAND UP
GET UP, STAND UP
I haven't felt beautiful for a very long time

Friday, February 18, 2011

oh yeah?

WE DON'T BELIEVE IN BEING SAD
well then, stop making me so fucking sad
I've got brave ankles,
walk faster than all you winter joggers
giving me headaches with second skins
EYES older than you, Boston
got a freedom trail, oh yeah?
let's go ask the east coast about
swallowing you whole, teaching you
about the ocean, laughing
when you realize it's too cold to swim
all of the seasons make use tired, so
TAKE A SEAT, HAVE A DRINK
it's on me

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

it doesn't matter, I'm too worried about what you don't say out loud

so, what can we learn from this
I learned that you introduce yourself,

(my name is shaela)

using a voice I have never heard

sorry if I'm jumping ahead, but
there's a storm coming, and I'm looking at it
your hand is raised,
and I wonder if it's because somebody asked-
who is the most beautiful girl in the world?

boston

You don't need New York City to make me fall in love with you

buy me the Brooklyn Bridge,
make it fancy
this time I can wear lipstick
and a sparkly dress,
trick them all into believing in a city behind my eyes
where I am walking so fast
you might rather ask the train to dinner.

Let's keep this up until we're drunk enough
to confuse ourselves
with other people, you can be the one back home
who knows how to get used to things like the TV
being on all of the time,
and sports.

He thinks of Boston as a town and takes his damn time waking up

forgetting about white noise,
he stands there like a deflating balloon, mouth open
quietly letting everybody believe
that he is loud.

Later-
he gets a phone call from a bathroom somewhere in New York City,

I've grown tired of getting used
to things so please let go of my feet,
I'm no good at holding still.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

I dreamed about new york again last night

Yesterday, you said
“I feel like getting back to myself, “
we sat still for hours talking about moving

The purple tape player sits on a stack of maps
paused on directions out of reach,
wish we could go back

You’re alright and terrible at the same time
but part of me is afraid to listen
I’m sorry I can’t pick you up

The shower stays on empty, and so
we grow cold, waiting.

Monday, February 7, 2011

we care

woke up on the wrong side
can I help you?
I can’t help you
did you say no whipped cream?
I don't care
ANYTHING ELSE
yes, I'm stuck to the window
turn around
what are you looking at out there
walk home with purple fists,
what are you looking at