november 2, 2005

this is an ironic sort of hate...
...but not an uncommon one.

where i am filled with equal parts hate and love.
each a product of each other, a conjoined monstrosity.
(if one dies, will the other?)

where is the sense in this?
i hate you
(i hate myself)
for still having love for you

and it is this presence of love
that clears the way for hate.

you broke my heart.

degraded history and friendship.

without coherent explanation or forethought

am i worth so little?

this self-induced depression
(how else can one really write so plainly?)
is a fist thrust in my throat
so painfully stretching the esophagus in unnatural
(yet, imaginable) ways.

a groping of heart strings,
threads of memory and feeling,
to be woven into something articulate and explainable
and inevitably pulled apart to be forgotten

where does this leave me?

heart broken,
tugged in the opposing directions of love and hate.
a division even king solomon would not undertake

in the end, i am left to ask:
who are you to deserve my hate (and love)?

but then, who am i to give it to you?

november 6, 2005

an intense desire to run away
manifested in midnight miles
shin splints
bursting lungs
and tears disguised as raindrops

this is a recycled enlightenment

a continental journey traveled
and permanently i stayed
haphazardly homeless
fueled on impulse
an unexpected marriage of coincidence and desire

i left heartbreak at home (but not the potential stowaway)

[speaks] a stranded thread of soul:
build walls
brace for the perfect storm
embrace the emotion starter package (version 3.1)
and weather this unfortunate attraction

this is a heart-sponsored marathon

please, won't you come sit on my wall?
break it down
cry for the photo finish
and keep this silly girl from running
soon, there will be little left to run to

and i've only just got here.