Status.

Chewing.

Chewing through my own fat.

Through my lips and teeth and cheeks.

Sore and swollen, but I keep biting.

Itch I just can't scratch.

I'm cradling a deadly thing, touching it.

Watching it.

I've got a pocket full of nothingness

For once.

Nowhere to go

But up.

My restless tongue pushes through my mouth

As if getting out would help.

Courage?

"...they gather their courage, and they give it a try..."
I sit on the floor of a motel shower, pushing a sliver of soap across the shelf on the bottom of the shower door.
I shuttle it back and forth a few times, and then rinse the soap slime from my fingers.
I take stock of my skin- sallow pale, instead of my usual milky pale under the harsh motel bathroom light. I'm the wrong color. I wonder if anyone else has noticed.
For something to do, I count.
43.
I count again.
42.
The shower spray is narrow, though, only comforting one side of my back at a time. I sway slowly back and forth to warm my arms.
I rinse my hair again.
The water covers my ears, and for a minute, the drops hitting my wet head are louder than my thoughts. They're louder than my confusion. My ears are filled in this instant with something other than a jumbled loneliness, excitement, regret, and insecurity.
I am thankful for endless motel bathroom hot water.

Here, There, Again

Ask me.
Ask me again.
Tell me more.
Drifting away again, washing up on some distant shore
Unfamiliar territory, but isn't this a familiar position, darling?
Always a little far away, a little off, a lifted corner
And veiled meaning.
A lilting song brights my spirits a moment here or there

My turn to disengage.
Watch me disappear.
Eyes shining, hold me still
Hold me here
Close and tight.
One last footprint left in the snow
Right where I thought it might be.

Ask me.
Tell it again, the story of that time by the lake
Mysteries we made out of mud and mist
Tales we twisted out of reeds and grass
Glass water, our only audience.

Somehow we grow closer, through this.
Somehow we get from here to there
One path or another, it doesn't really matter.
Sparks fly wide, in time or space but not both.

Minor keys rattle between my ears,
Through my grandmother's laugh, through a screen door
Shattering windows that never quite crash all the way down
Whispers tangle all together, their cool watercolor storms
Bring me to my knees again.

Trading in my hard-won tokens for winding strands of real gold
Few and wondrous
But I wonder whether I was better off with brass coins.
Whether my imaginary prize was more precious
Than the jeweled thing I hold


Third string.
Muted laughter.
Strangled meaning.
Nothing fits.
It's all too much.
The death of the sun.
Last march.
Orange defeat.
Splendorous.
12-bar Blues.

Going on and on.

I'm asking myself: what happened to my pinpoint focus?
My mad abandon?
When did I give up those little shards of God?
Is this a momentary pause?
A paradigm shift?
Simply a symptom of a greater problem?
I'm missing a big piece of what used to define me.
I am getting tired of people asking about my life as a performer.
"I'm taking a break." I say.
"Buying a house."
The truth is, my heart isn't in it and I don't know why.
It can't be completely explained by the brightness of the sun
Or by the opaque clouds.
Too sudden for a real change
But too sustained for a simple rest.
I don't choreograph in my head anymore.
I dread the steps it takes to get to practice my art.
I make excuses and waffle about, flapping my arms and whining.
I keep thinking that the energy will just come
That my old sparks of glitter and glass will appear when they will.
That this is just what I'm supposed to do right now.
But I'm afraid that if i wait too long, I'll forget what that
Exquisite crossroads looks like.
I'll have given up on my art, my passion, my dreams and ideals.
"The Show Must Go On", indeed.
Right?

Winner/Winter

Winner, winner, Turkey dinner.
Layers getting thinner, thinner.
And it's only start of winter...

Layers, yes. Feeling like I have two layers of reaction
We all do
And it's more or less a choice
Some days more, some days less,
Of which we see.
And which we feel.
Bring me light, bring me perspective
Show me, because the easy way out
My little shortcuts, prove less helpful
And more harmful
Am I improving, getting stronger or simply substituting?
Sugar for syrup
Rubies for sapphires.

The apple of my diamond eye
You gleam in your red coat.
I roll the words over my tongue, but keep them close
And silent.
Don't read too much into it, my silence.
It's not consent, nor even approval.
"Same" isn't always "Fair" I know
Though you're fairly a thief
Having stolen my thoughts so.

Open wide and swallow hard
This coping cop out really suits my style.
Resplendent in jeweled furs...
How can I resist becoming your accomplice?

Wasn't

It wasn't you and it wasn't me
It was just us, lying there in the dark
Never knowing what to say or how
Whittling away at the cold days and long nights
Carving out the moments to the end
You were a gift
But I couldn't take it
A tear, at the seam
Never fell so far.
Have to is a funny phrase
You're right, I choose to.
And so do you.
But it wasn't just you, nor just me
But the both of us, standing there in the kitchen
That turned, then, and walked away.

Want.

Left to choose
Forced to wonder
Forced.
Wandering between boundaries
Between wants and needs, we figure it out slowly
I rush headlong too often
Excited, steering too far into the weeds, sometimes
We all fall down
We all get up again.
We all spend an afternoon in the corner.
Tired, spent from a week's whirling intensity
Can't tell the difference here between let down and lonely
I've no objectivity left, no aloofness to save me
"I'm on my knees, and the water creeps to my chest."
I've started dreaming again, dreaming of water in pools that swirl about my ankles and thighs.
It doesn't choke me, just slows my way and is frighteningly still.
"I will hold on..."

Cant even fake it, left naked.
Cant even lift it, alright.
Take me over, I'll give it.
Drag me into the light.

The back and forth
The ups and downs
The fog that creeps up behind me and steals something precious
But always leaves me with more.
The flaming in and out that also leaves me with more.

Constant companion, does one of us ever win?