On the train home with Hide and Seek on repeat. Close your eyes and remember the smiles of all of the boys you've loved. ("it's all for the best")

Over a year later and I'm still alive.

And you still don't deserve me.

The Best Parts of Lonely

"I wish that I could claim these words as my own but they've come from someone who understands this world far better than I could ever imagine."
-Jamison Covington



Left and Leaving - The Weakerthans
My city's still breathing (but barely, it's true)
through buildings gone missing like teeth.
The sidewalks are watching me think about you.
Sparkled with broken glass.
I'm back with scars to show.
Back with the streets I know
will never take me anywhere but here.
The stain in the carpet, this drink in my hand,
the strangers whose faces I know.
We meet here for our dress-rehearsal to say "I wanted it this way."
Wait for the year to drown.
Spring forward, fall back down.
I'm trying not to wonder where you are.
All this time lingers, undefined.
Someone choose who's left and who's leaving.
Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me:
a blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest,
the best parts of lonely, duct-tape and soldered wires
new words for old desires
and every birthday card I threw away.
I wait in 4/4 time.
Count yellow highway lines that you're relying on to lead you home

priorities

It's sad how quickly friendship falls to the wayside when you've got a new toy wrapped around your finger. I always tell myself it won't happen this time. That you've changed. Maybe it makes me stupid, naive. I just can't let go of the hope that there are people in the world who are better than that. I'll spend my whole life looking for someone who doesn't end up being a disappointment.

I can't stand that my mother has a meltdown every time we talk. 24 years and I'm done feeling guilty but it doesn't make it easier to hear.

we turn into monsters

There are so many nasty things in my head but they aren't ready yet. I want to break your sad, pathetic little heart.

Some friend I am, waiting for it to come crashing down. You should know better than to turn your back on me.

Thank god I am nothing like you.

I hear you turning your thoughts off.

"Oh, darling it's so sweet that you think you know how crazy I am."

Always keep them at arms length. I will never be taken advantage of again.

I'm sick. I'm tired. head vs. heart. We fight in the trenches.

the truth just sounds different

I never would have guessed that living with three other people would be so lonely. This month has been a tough one for me. I can't make a fist with the people I can depend on. Incredible talks with (real) friends have me thinking about social contracts and the last time I was this honest. Transgressions traded. I love learning about the darkest parts of people-it's my fetish for confession.

Finally finished The Neverending Story. Spent some time in the park with Bright Shiny Morning after work. Picking my way through Remnants. Bouncing in my seat waiting for Deathbeds. I'm afraid it's going to be a new favorite.

Humming along to the new As Tall As Lions and Third Eye Blind albums, The Arcade Fire, Brand New, Desaparecidos, and The Decemberists.

I have no idea what I'm doing but at least I'm not stopping. Always looking for those reminders that it's possible to live like this.

Goodnight moon.

"I just can't handle it"

The only things that are holding me together right now: Nikki and the new Radiohead song.

I spoil all my secret hiding (whining) spots. Too bad I prefer the click of the keys to the scratch of a pen.

"We never are what we intend or invent."

Quick life update via Starbucks internet.

Love the new apartment, learning to live with the new roommates. Wicker Park is just as awesome as I was afraid it would be. The new job is great so far. A bigger paycheck and no orange visor are just a few of the perks. I'm Fletcher's foster mom and that's filling the furry hole in my heart. If I made movies they would look like the performance parts of the new Jack's Mannequin video, "Swim". Swoon. Saw the Decemberists at the Metro last week and officially started my poster collection. Double swoon. Current soundtrack to my life: Brand New's "At the Bottom".

I've got a new name to whisper to my pillow before I lose the battle for consciousness. And the record skips.

the magic words

Never underestimate the power of an honest apology.

red letter day

Dressed to be left, indeed. Perpetual let-downs are wearing me out. I want to quit the internet and everyone that I know. Anywhere but here with anyone but you.

"I need a new crowd."

god only knows that I've tried

Watch the mercury rise. I want to cut all my hair off again and wear bermudas and tank tops for the rest of the summer. "They will talk..." Let them talk. Too bad you can't play baseball with imaginary friends. (Ghost man on third?) The 7:30 sky was magical tonight. Watching fireworks is like hitting the pause button on life. Soundtrack to tonight's bath: "Sleepwalker" on repeat. I think I'm going to climb Buckingham Fountain this week (with or without you).

"and maybe I'm crazy but lightning might strike me tonight"

"a trail for the devil to erase"

Employed x 2. It was an evening of easy celebration. Shopping, dinner, movie, bike ride. After a day of interaction with the world I always need to recharge with a few solid hours of silence in a dimly lit room. Think think think.

Not so proud of what's in my head lately. (You wouldn't know it from the way I sling it around on the internet.) I've always loved the idea of "revisionist history". Makes me want to re-read A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius even though I'm not sure I even liked it the first time around.

I'll say it too, but you've got to go first.

Let the daylight in

Woke up to a Jack's Mannequin morning. Made a tasty breakfast. Got all prettied up. Evening out with the roommate. Got an interview. Spent too much money. Shared a sundae. Made plans with the best friend.

Today was a great day.

They happen often, I just forget to tell you about them.

better than fine

Let's throw caution to the wind for a moment and just be happy.

Made my mark beside some x's this evening. Secured a place to lay my head for the next 12 calendar pages. I can't help but feel that I'm on the edge of something big.

5am bedtimes are getting the best of me. Racking up the miles on the pedal-powered Buick. Trying to keep my head above the clouds.

the back porch poets and the parking lot gods

Losing the last of the first burn of the season. Can't help but feel that it's a bit symbolic.

Most of my trips home have lost their charm pretty quickly but this last one was hard to end. I really am lucky to have such an incredible family. I miss too much while I'm away.

"I never knew that about you." Rich words, considering that everything that you know about me can be gathered from a social networking website. I know that you don't think of me as a person with any depth or intelligence, but you could try not to act so surprised when your expectations don't match reality. You really were my worst mistake.

I should have been in bed hours ago. The internet brings out the worst in me.

You're a few years overdue

It's been too long since we've spoken. It's a comfort to know you're always here when I need you.

I catalog my years by the loves I have and lose. I broke new ground last August that resulted in an abuse of undeserved power and the destruction of a friendship. I got into less trouble when I kept my hands to myself. I thought it would hurt more to learn firsthand the things I've been warned about my whole life. My pride is my armor and my closest friend.

I spent last night with some of my favorite people. There's nothing I love more than being surrounded by my smiling friends. They saved me and they don't even know it.

It's time to re-evaluate. Keep that head high. 24. Can't wait to screw this up.

"I've got a nomadic head"

It's a horrible feeling to know that you've become everything that you hate. Where do we make the distinction between strong and stubborn? Mostly, it's just wounded pride but these days it's all I have left.

"I think your bruise was understated"

I am four days into my summer vacation and I've attended two parties, finished 2 books, gone to a show, and played catch in the park. Before the night is over I will also have watched two films. Not a bad start, if I may say so.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about a lot of things. There is one matter that I need to attend to before I'll be able to focus on anything else.

I'm a couple paychecks away from a new camera. The sky is breathtaking tonight. I can't wait to take photos again.

I think I'll spend the day exploring tomorrow. 77. Skirts, finally.

There is no place safe.

Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.

Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.

Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.

Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.

You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.

You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.

You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax.

Don't bother remembering any of it.

Let's stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.

- 'Antilamentation', Dorianne Laux

Sometimes you have to be your own hero.

It's been a quiet couple of days (mostly because I'm keeping my mouth shut). It's a hard thing to love people, to give yourself to them, because when they leave they take part of you with them. I'm horrible at goodbyes and these will be some of the hardest I've ever had to make.

I never want to forget a minute of this.

All my work for the semester is finished.

Some things that are keeping me from falling off the earth:
folk-pop piano rock, Blankets, the city in bloom.

The best of me is hidden somewhere that you'll never find.


Mostly because you don't want to look.

scraped knees

I can't be good all the time.
Lately it's been tough being good at all.

Sometimes I want to say or do or know something so badly that it makes me uneasy. I want it so intensely that it makes me afraid to get it. This is the opposite of a goal. It's a shameful addiction.
I've been lazy. I've let hate and frustration and jealousy overpower the love in my life and that's not the person that I want to be. I made a commitment to myself not to succumb to the weight of the world.

Time to let go of this negativity that's been clouding my head and heart for the past few months. It's time to find my center again.

Revisionist history

I've said too much.

I don't know how to fix this.

"This is the circus. Everybody's trying not to go home. Nobody's saying goodbye."

I wish it didn't bother me that you won't miss me.

Love Poem 2002 - Mary Fons

this poem is for the pillow clutchers/for those looking into the imaginary eyes of the person who fills their mind with sugarplum smiles/for those who have a cannon of dreams ready and waiting to blossom/for the men and the women who want to be understood in that way that only someone who kisses you can understand you/this poem is for you.

this poem is not for the desperate/the pathetic/the lame/the loser/not for the one who hasn’t gotten laid in awhile/not for the one who says they’re “choosing not to date” for awhile/there is no such thing/this poem is for the people who cannot bring themselves to admit that they would give their right leg for any length of time with the person on their mind.

forgive me/I am not a brave woman/I do not know what lurks in the hearts of humans and I don’t really want to know/if what’s there mirrors memories I show in my face on bad days it holds kisses that are long gone/people who have disappeared/and passions that have faded into the ether of the past/nothing lasts/that is the one lesson this coward can say she is able to teach.

this poem is for all those who wish to say “I’m sorry”/I’m sorry I couldn’t love you/you deserve love/I’m sorry I couldn’t give something to you/you deserve to be given to/I’m sorry that for every person that loves somebody/another person just doesn’t want to/and sometimes we’re the lucky ones/right/we get to feel sweet truth in the night/the bodies we reach out to are miraculously there/but I know the despair that comes when they are not/I know the long nights and the doubt and the fear and that crawling back to a womb that just isn’t there/I know intensity’s address and the letdown that rents there/I’m sorry for it/it takes years off your life and it cannot be avoided.

and some times these little words are crutches for the crush that we feel/so this poem is a pathetic vehicle for me to tell you/each one of you/that I love you/in so many ways/in the same ways that stay up nights and days/dreaming up the perfect way to be there for someone/meals you would cook for them/poems you would write for them and the things you plan to say when they say no/well I love you/and you will never know how in the slight of a magician’s hand we could’ve been lovers and grandly in love/could’ve changed the whole game/written words on the horizon/changed the compromise/but you will know something else instead/bitter as bitter ever gets/more bitter than a rotten peach pit/more bitter than a child’s most terrifying nightmare at night/you will know that I don’t reflect what I see in your eyes/will share some banal recognition/some cordial understanding but have I mentioned that I love you for not lying/so many people lying all the time/I hate them/so I love you/and you will still go home alone/and that is very hard to do.

for all the humans with love for those who aren’t their lovers/I love you.

and so the poem ends because we know that it will/but before it slips away like everything else/I will attempt the only words I can think of that are a fraction as good as a kiss: when you reach out at night and find not someone/but the cold grey light of day that wakes you up like a slap/like a curse/like an insult/I love you/when you stay at home thinking of those who are long gone or those who are getting kisses from someone that is not you/I love you/for those who want what they probably need and whose bodies are starving not for food/for me and for you and for all the people who never knew or understood what you would do for them/I love you/I love you/I love you.

- Mary Fons

As badly as I want to, I can't take back the things that I've done. It's a heavy burden to bear alone. Talk me through this. You never have anything to say. (Taking no action is also an action.) I never feel like I have the right to be upset. I play my happy, funny, friendly part while I'm sick to my stomach and ready to snap. It's always about my shortcomings. What I don't have, can't be -- for you, for everyone else. Is it selfish to think that everything is my fault? My head is a mess. My heart is a mess. My nerves are a mess.

I wonder if it will all come back around one day. Probably not, but it makes me feel a little better to think it might.

the time between

Under the weather, the weight of the world. I'm tired of talking to the wind, the walls. Times like these make me wonder if I was better off before I knew what I was missing. I want an honest voice to set me back on course-I keep choosing dead ends. My best efforts haven't changed a thing. A fistful of failures with one thing in common: me.

I write you poems in the shower door steam.

Do you do this on purpose or are you really that oblivious?

"When you hurt people, they begin to love you less. That's what careless words do. They make people love you a little less."

You should watch your mouth.

I've got 3 years of higher learning to help me understand communication differences. Unfortunately, that doesn't make this any easier.

"What do I have to do to get you on my side?"

Try, try again. I need a new hobby, this one is losing its charm.

return to sender

Things change with age. I've been thinking a lot lately about the evolution of my reactions to situations in my life. 23 has been a good year for me. I finally feel like I'm getting to know myself.

That saying about girls and boys and sex and love couldn't be more true. I've always been a giver. I admire people who aren't afraid to say what they're feeling, who are brave enough to ask for what they need. The waiting game is one that we'll never win. I'm a product of fairy tales and the womens' movement. I want the best of both worlds and I feel guilt from both sides.

Let's hide out under the covers. Everything matters less with my face against your neck.

I am not afraid of what it takes to glue you to my side.

These days are strange. Reflection. Rumination. Do you ever wonder what you would do with your time if you DID figure it all out?

You win some and you lose some. What do you want? I don't want to choose anymore. Door number 1 or number 2? The lady or the tiger? I always pick the closet, but hope that we can live there happily ever after.

That feeling that will not be named has me on the defensive. I'm painting you as the villain, but the allowance for the intelligence and foresight that this fictitious plot would require is granted begrudgingly. I've been known to fight dirty.


I like the way this makes my head feel.

I don't understand the attraction. They've both got high hopes for better versions of each other that are never going to come. People who think they're always right can't find room for improvement.

shut-eye

This weekend was amazing, I'm ashamed that I let the actions of a few overshadow all of the fun that was had.

To you: Thank you for helping me forget it for a few hours.

Sometimes I get tired of pretending like nothing bothers me. I deserve a better class of friends and I think it's time I started looking for them.

I don't know why I even bother.

I have no idea what I want.

I didn't quite say all that I wanted to.

I'm not afraid of you and I like that I don't have to be. Drunken advances are discouraged but sober ones... well, I didn't say anything about those.

Clearly I need to go to bed before my fingers get me into trouble. Have I ever mentioned that I don't like sleeping alone? This could be so easy if you let it.

Elevator Love Song

I speak fluent Chinese fingertrap dirty talk,
and not just with the bottom-feeders, the trough-eaters.

I am the jam to your jelly, loverboy,
and I write you bullshit love-letters on restaurant menus and bathroom stalls.

I hear the change in your pants pocket, can nickel and dime your libido
as skillfully as any back-alley Aphrodite – I'm your 'x marks the spot', baby.

My brilliance as a schoolgirl rebel debutante
would stun you.

I ride the motion of the ocean the way we ought to,
i.e. on my own. A ménage a moi, really, but I don't mind.

I can't complain:
I've been able to trace your hidden wallet, even when you stash it in the damn freezer.

It's gratifying that I can always
wake up before you, slide out from your side of the bed, down the fire escape.

Soon, an early morning liquor binge, white sun breaks out,
I roll over on my ego. I am atomic, so radiant that I melt your eyelashes.

I'm a siren humming filthy lullabies into your ear. An enigma of my age -
but I don't have to be.

A few years ago
I saw you, leaning against my apartment building, swaying like a broken ladder.

And the night before last you pinned me to the wall, plucked orchids from under my skirt,
my thighs buzzing, neon lights; your callused hands, rough as the sidewalk we stood on.

-Melissa Culbertson

Today I decide who's deserving of what.

backstabber

Sometimes the only thing to do is confess. Oh, what a mess we've made. Impaired judgments on both of our parts. Drunk on different kinds of chemicals. I never meant to hurt anyone. I'm still new to this game and I haven't figured out all the rules yet.

But still-

We got off to a bad start. Let's try again.

We'll both take it easy.

Goodbye, you. You were a bigger part of my life than I like to let on, but it never wrecked me when you left. We were a portrait of two people who couldn't have been more wrong for each other. I know that I don't get a second chance for first times, but I still have the most important gift to give. I hope that you find what you're looking for before you hurt yourself or someone else. All I see when I look at you is a lonely little boy.


I don't know where to start. This teaser of mid-spring weather has me feeling contemplative. This city is most beautiful at night after it rains- when it's humid and shining like glass. Today feels like 'grapevine fires' and I wish that I could read your mind. Or figure out what's going on inside my own, for a start.

I couldn't have said it better.

"You’re a good friend with a bad tendency to get in over your head."

Trials

This is what a criminal must feel like in the time between the act and the apprehension.

Crimes

I could never hurt you the same ways you hurt me. I had to get creative.

I never have figured out how to become immune to the guilt.

This isn't cruelty, just self-preservation. You have a mother and I don't even humor the notion that you ever sleep alone.

You have so much to learn that I can't teach you.

Kind of funny that less than 24 hours after you apologized to me you let me down again.

Some things and people never change.

resolution.

Change is here.

Today the era of hope was ushered in. I've been making my own changes in the past month as well. I reconciled with someone that I hadn't spoken to in 6 months and it feels so good to let go of that negativity. Last night another apology was accepted, and although that wound is still fresh, I'm happy to say that I was strong enough not to spit back the words that I knew would rip you apart. I guess that fighting is in my nature. When I'm hurting, my reflex is to fight back with the most terrible words I can conjure. Dealing with my feelings in a more constructive way is the most difficult task I've ever set for myself. Sometimes the most simple words are the most true: Two wrongs don't make a right. What is right isn't always easy, and what is easy isn't always right. I can't control the way other people react but I am in complete control of myself and I'm constantly becoming more aware of the way my actions impact others. I can't make anyone change, only try to be a good example.

So I will continue to be hurt by you and many others, I'm sure. I'll use each blow as an opportunity to better myself. I know I won't always make the right choice, but from every mistake I promise to take a lesson away.

And most importantly, I will never let fear make me a prisoner. I'm going to keep loving with all my heart because to do it any other way would be a lie.