something like ease..

in these days of solitude i am learning
and i'm leaning in hard to the habits that have made this machine in me thrust forward in this attempt at life.
i recognize that i am not the most disciplined of energies
and my tendency to fall inward is most present in the absence of structure.
this can be a dangerous thing
as in it's wake it leaves me accomplishing little to nothing.

left to my own devices i will circle my thoughts
dream of big things then dissolve into aimlessly wandering in my here nor there.

i am no fool and recognize that my motivation is directly correlated to the absence or presence of sunshine.

a creativity that waxes and wanes
an attention span that loves to get lost in words-
i am a keeper of letters
and words
and occasionally anger, sadness and utter joy.

I'd have dismissed taking myself seriously years ago and given in to the earlier revelation that maybe i'm just crazy
but that was too comforting and i wanted to make that craziness mean something outside of my head.

i am amazed at how much talent can go to waste simply due to lack of motivation. i fear that my last words will be, "why didn't i do more?!"
i take it a day at a time and live by the ebb and flow of these tiny little fish swimming called emotions and they don't remind me that it's sink or swim-
i relearn this only when i'm coughing and choking and gasping for air.

i'm living easy these days just watching things go by at the speed of cognition and my center is realigning with something deeper in me- something that busy ate up and inattention ignored.

i am getting here
and i'm getting closer to the me in melissa
or
 was it adriana?

a driving will..

he says things are broken-
way past mending

i take a moment and wait for that last hammer to fall
and i wait until he finds the madness finding its way out of his body.

i remind him that there have been bigger obstacles
and even bigger assholes
than him

and i see his shoulders fall
and i see the fury ease from his eyes
until that lyrical lie he's been telling himself for years
finds it way into his head again.

i sit in the dusty spaces full- yet incomplete
and i wait till the latest dust up settles
and we tackle the things i never got to say to you
things maybe a little sister could have forced her big brother to hear
and i know we never got that chance so i'm a little more patient now
and i'm checking my judgement at the first admission of wrongdoing and weakness

 today it's me who's doing the listening
and i get a closer look at what it was like for you
being victim time and time again to the vices that always had you pinned.

today- 46 years ago entered the world a promise and an intent
that would lose it's way 42 years later.
i'm coming up on you now brother mike
soon those numbers will belong to me
and i'm gonna count myself through the days till i get passed the date you moved on
and i'm gonna keep on marching to whatever truth that i owe myself to claims me
unless i find it first

and i'm gonna send the messages on to you to fill you in on what you've missed

but in the meantime i'm gonna keep trying to right the man in front of me with whatever i've got
with as little
and as much that i know

things that  i never saw in you
that i never got close enough to say

and then i'm gonna try and tell it to little brother et
and i'm gonna settle the score to the things i could never fix
but never gave up trying to

and i'm gonna show him that things aren't passed mending
and remind him that he can choose to not be the asshole he's been
and he can start looking at himself instead of everyone around him
and see that finger shaking back at him

it may be a long shot
but it's really the only option i've been given
to make this worth what it should have been to you.

Fires in the basement of accountability..

I'm not asking you to rescue me
I'm holding on just fine
to the chaos around me
that finds it's way into my resting place

I know you can't expect to find new meaning when you only listen through the same old earphones; tattered
 broken and barely clear.

I tell myself that I'm more visible and more awake when I'm listening
but sometimes it feels good to let it go and give in to the visible lines that get lower on that bottle
that voice that gets muddled the more I give in to it's offerings

I am better and I am alive
and that is better than most of what I see day in and day out.
It's been a series of shocks and
rolling along the bloodied line of mistakes
but I'm still here and I'm still feeling the misty reminders showering me from above.

I've earned my keep in this place we call home
and though I may never hear anything but judgement rollin' off your blonde hair blue eyed native face
I've got plenty spaces to fill myself with before I go after the likes of you.

Someone's singing to me about the karma police
and though I hope to hear their sirens I sure do hope they pass me by
on their way to you.

These days I'm sensitive to the way we don't look at each other when we speak
and I'm aware of how the lines that connected us divert as they get closer.
I hear the broken when I see the smile
and I carry on when I see the doubt
and I question the intent when I see the forced intimacy
that has no place in these violent spaces we sleep in

A world that keeps the lights up bright
but the truth locked inside the
burned up churches that were never as sacred as they were secret.

A melancholy fire of blues, greens and oranges
that holds connection adrift
and a purposeful meaning prisoner.

If I can buy your trust
does that mean I can claim your virtue?


Flowers still grow despite the sun and snow falling all at once
they just hold on to their petals a while longer
before giving it up.

You clearly see the message has been lost by the messenger-
it's about tangents and
tantrums

letters mean something at the same time as meaning nothing
or
something that maybe you just don't comprehend?

Resistance

and then we are done...

4 two one and the days before..

4.21.15

I lose myself

I’ve lost myself 

again

and the act of looking out of dirty windows to a clearing, temperamental sky

only reminds me that I’m not sure what I’m looking for out there

Yet it gives me some solace

that I’m still eagerly looking outside

for something.

Today that something is you

it is some symbol

that you are still near me

that this day that the two of you were born means not that you are missing

but that you were once here.

Like a broken phone booth telephone I call the same number over and over again

and my father’s voice is never as happy on the day before

or on this day.

He is full of sorrow.

The day he arrived only serves as a reminder that he’s now missing his son

and his father.

I can’t help but feel the sadness again 

though I promise myself that these things will get easier

you know-

 the more my memory slips

and the more I carry on

but it never has

and I am not certain it ever will.

Numbers are significant

They serve as labels

and they serve as reminders

of something tangible

and something removed.

My biggest mistake continues to be that I am removed

that I am beyond the recent past 

and I am continuously surprised at how foolish I am to think I’ve got these sorts of things figured out.

My quiet serves as a reminder that inside I am burning

I am burning for things I do not know

spaces I do not know

that I may never know

and I am dissatisfied with not having a reason

a purpose

a way to justify getting into those spaces

without a trace

without anyone ever knowing I was even there.

Spaces that are bodies

spaces that are minds

and spaces where things that I do not share

are known.

I am a little lost in this translation of my most recent transformation

This woman who feels close to me

who knows me

and who I’ve grown into

is still aloof to my curious groping

Who is this I?

Who is this woman that I experience every single day

who carries my weight

who looks back at me

who rests her worries on my shoulders?

I’d like to tell her that it should be no surprise that any conviction of the heart comes with steep consequences

I’d like to tell her that the surprises that she thrusts us into always take more time then she’s got

or willing to agree to

to sort out.

It is days like this, 

weeks like these 

that force an opening

that force a reckoning

to any and everyone sitting quietly in the corners

known or unknown

And when I look out the window I recognize

that the clearing sky has turned cloudy and bruised once again

forcing me to go back to the beginning

The beginning that reminds me of you…