introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K

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in this heat

-27 days til nobody likes me - second of august-start the coundown

"you know its true, we're both the same. in a storm of words we get lost in what is said."~voltaire

i've been giving some thought to how things have taken a turn in my corner of nonspace. where there were poems and lines of impromptu freestyle, there are stream of conciousness essays and letters and memoirs. i'm too young to have memoirs. i want to return to the purity with which i began. i need this for me again. its not a pep talk or a love letter and it is...its paradoxal. its not a thank you card or a reminder to take your medicine. its selfishness and eyes and heart and beautiful emotions and ugly aggressions and a girl's eye view of a world unfolding. and so i follow your lead on this one, darling boy. you had it right and reminded me of the focus...reminded me of the reasons.

that having been said, i don't see how i can NOT talk about the things that happen around me and tear at my thoughts and insides. that having been said....

i don't know if you know how many poems i've written for your inspiration and the way you make me feel and think and be. i don't always feel like you know if you realize how important you've become to me over the years. i try to tell you but i know it makes you uncomfortable. sometimes, its like trying to get you to rub my belly and ask the wise jabba a question: impossible.

this one is one i want to share with you because i think you need to start realizing. mark, this is for you.

FIRE TOWER

i don't think you always remember

that i'd be broken into a million pieces if

you weren't here to laugh with me and

cry with me and

take those mindless drives in

loops on the highway and back roads and

listen to songs that

you put onto some cd and named with one word...

and even though they weren't always songs

i could sing along with,

they always seemed to be just the thing....

they always seemed to be the Salve.

i don't think you always realize that

if it hadn't been for

some of those visits and drives,

i might not even be breathing this moment in,

fallen victim to the predator of

my own thoughts and driving firey emotions that

burn inside me like

blowtorches gone wild.

sometimes,

i cannot be contained and

you put me out and

get me into some semblence of control.

you have been

the stones around my fire pit

for so many years and

i don't think you even realize.

and now its your turn

to need the borders and buckets of water

to purge you as

your flames and saddness rise up

to the very tops of your trees....

and sometimes

i get the feeling as though

you've set up a roadblock

that won't let my emergency vehicles

come racing towards you

to the rescue.

sometimes,

i get the feeling that

you like to let me watch,

standing so close

with all of the help i have to offer.

sometimes,

in the heat of your self-imposed slow-roast demise,

i feel my brow singe in frustration

as the sparks fly

in the same trails

repeating and repeating,

the flames licking the same paths

and crackling in the same rhythms

every day,

the story never changes

and you won't let us help you

write new chapters.

sometimes,

i think you'd like to let it all just burn down

to nothingness,

not even leaving us the black crumbling ash

to fertilize the grounds of our tomorrows.

yes,

sometimes,

you are like a forest fire

that won't be put out

for all the good it would do you.

yes,

sometimes,

my most peculiar friend,

i wonder if you ever realized

what it was like for me

to hike along your trails

and learn the curves and bends

in your heart and

i've only just begun to explore your mind.

sometimes,

my most cheshire of aquaintances,

i wonder if you realize

how very much you've meant

along the way.

and i sit here now,

and listen to what you say...

i read the words you write

and i hear you call them friends

and hear you say you're having so much fun

and hear you tell us what you'll wear

like you're autumn leaves

dancing on wind.

but i won't be fooled...

those reds and yellows you wear

are not the truths of fall

but the fires of exchanging

one amusement for another,

just another thing to pass the time

to fill the empty space in your clearings.

don't you see that they are

as temporary as the tempermental clouds

that roll overhead,

promising rain one moment to cool and soothe

and bringing lightning with the storms

that only ignite more of these dark thoughts?

don't you see that these drinks

aren't keeping you hydrated

but breaking the bank and

masking the alarm at hand?

i don't think you always remember

that i'd be broken into a million pieces if

you weren't here to laugh with me and

cry with me

and i sit here

as close as you'll let me approach

and i watch you

slowly

willfully

destroying yourself,

convinced that the lakes are dry

and the rivers spent

while i stand here with buckets sloshing.

let me put you out.

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.what came before. - .what happened next.

a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017
baseball season to football season, abbreviated - 25 september 2017
the doodles - 11 july 2017
at arm's length - 4 july 2017
like a sea-mammal needs a bicycle - 30 may 2017

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