louder

it doesn’t hurt
my ears throbbing
the volume up
not loud enough
the song is unimportant
to the cause
just so much as it
beats in my bones
my heart is deaf
death is silence
my thoughts a rope
around my heart
I can make the pain forget
my stereo and I
hip high speakers
& some meaningless rhythms
eleven months
and I still can’t move
I’ve gone so far past
the streets we drove
so far past the half
standing tall
wooden ship we hid in
I am so much more powerful
than I have ever been
I can go to movies alone
I can be proud of myself
love is not such a dirty word
eleven months
I sit with the music louder
it just hit me & I had to hit back
hit you with the ones you hate
hit you back with moans
and guitar solos
snares and bad lyrics
if I can’t hear myself think
I can’t hear your voice
your condemnation
your curse
like I can’t ever go on
“never again is what you
swore”-but I will
use my attack
on your last hold
I WILL blame you
why not?
anything to forget
anything to hurt less
I guess the thumping
in my chest
is comfort for now
comfort I denied myself
for eleven months
comfort in beats & rhythms
melodies & bass lines
“I press my hands to my ears”

8-20-98

White-Lined Pages

Don’t feel much
Like writing here
White lined pages
Look so pure unused
Trying to reflect
On the same couch
Fan oscillating my hair
How is it I found
To be content still without
A soul mate
Absolution
Eight months away from
The last devastating blow
My heart still beating
Does pain make beauty-
Does pain and creativity flow
Through one line…
This is the way it seems to go
I sit and ponder pen and paper ready
My mind wanders somewhere
Out the window gone
I lose the will to write
Lose the words to describe
My heart steady
My life in control
I hope this means will not die
I still need to travel here
White-lined pages losing purity

8-15-98