How Am I Not an Alcoholic?

How am I not an alcoholic?  I've asked.  Often.  Facing a mirror.  In the Shower.  At the bar.  On a couch.  When I'm stupid.  To my closest friends.  To strangers who listen.  Like my emotional affair.  After the breakup.  A New Years Eve meltdown.  During the jazz crooning years. And my hiatus from sleeping.  In the darkest room. I can't seem to shake.  With the right spirit, you can pretend to know all the secrets.  Tell the ones you weren't curious about.   Poetry tumbler out of your mouth.  The kind that doesn't rhyme or isn't metered. Spilling fantasies on a silk blouse.  Head splitting into endless combinations of letters into words into sound under a paper umbrella and modesty tears everything apart.  But I dance better when I don't drink.

water ballet

Unable to perceive the shape of 

You, I find You all around me. Your 

presence fills my eyes with 

Your love, It humbles my heart, For You 

are everywhere.

A Vanishing Life

x: I feel lost.  I don't know how to make things anymore.  

y: Lost can be good. Without lost you can't find truth. Stay lost a little while.

Seen & Heard

Seen: Dancing in August and remembering it's ok to remember last August.

Heard: ... the "letting go"... people say this, but I've realized (by being so bad at it...) that one never does. You accept and love what it was. Hearts are thriving, pulsating, permeable things. They can in-love again if you let them. Be open.

Goodbye Spring

I fell in love with a predator. Cocoon living attracts that sort of thing. Spinning pupa out of control. Sun burning bright. I suffocated in delight. I fell really hard busting my pupa head. Those owl eyes feeding on a slippery mess. You'd think I'd land on my feet or tail or that soft, squishy part in the very back where I know what death looks like. I didn't. I didn't when I was writhing in it and everything grew moldy and thick. I didn't before my smoking wings flew me into the heat of dusk. I didn't because Spring has a pattern like a narcissist and I fell in like a parasite.

i can't go back

Words Memorial

We all make our choices. 

The hard part is living with them.

A Vanishing Life

Green like an Oli(ve)

Hard Transplant

"It's supposed to be heart. If it wasn't heart, everyone would do it.The heart is what makes it great."

It was a musical thing...

A Vanishing Life

The point of this exercise is to make memory your friend and not your enemy.  From one sensitive skin to another.

A Vanishing Life

Gratitude and fear can not coexist.  Thank you, Skipper, for this gem.

What I learned in September

Watercolor has value like the iron pot. The latter is solid. Round. Always waiting and doing what you know to be true. Making things so you don't have to. Full to the brim. The patience of stillness. There is risk in the other. Worldly. She flows and engulfs until you're drunk at the ledge, like wind on the first sign of summer's end. Hues dissolving to tears, seep into the bloodstream, stains on the ribcage, never leaving the in side of you as she disappears.

Just as a flower

spotless

Only Shallow

I read somewhere that love is the moment when we are released from God's image.  We can be our true selves without guilt or service.  Free.  In the same instance I read that we are born hermaphrodites, in a duality, and once it's decided what sex will be formed, love becomes an everlasting quest in finding the missing half.  Enslaved.

This will be my last prose for a while, I think.  Unsure because I'm a lazy addict.  A creature of too many habits with my sense of abandonment strong when something like swaying is out of sync.  I went under the skin this year and discovered what is beautiful, terrifying, human.  It had been a while... to find under the skin is where we want to be.

Let's pretend...

that it's the real thing
And stay together all night long.

Good friends...

walk with you in a park under the stars far away.  Force you to pose when you want to disappear. Make you create things that you'll probably never use just for the sake of being creative.  It's in your blood after all.  They remind you that to take risks by not pretending no matter what the consequence is to be alive.  Order cocktails and contemplate with tears in their eyes because they know how you feel and want you to know it, too. Call when you need to be pulled out of the water.  Even when you didn't know you were drowning.  Then again to be sure you're still OK. Maybe later, too, after deciding to give you space.  They send horoscopes even if you don't believe or a list that will make you re-evaluate your entire existence!  They make you laugh about your mutual insecurities until your bellies ache. You are home when you laugh together.  Schedule and reschedule until it's right because time shows us so few speak the same language.  Buy you wine in old New York. We can break rules there as long as it's done in style.  They tell you they love you when they want, didn't mean to, or shouldn't.  They are always hoping you're available because they need things from someone good like you.

Let it Seep