Tag: people like us

Let the great world spin (25)

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Birmingham
I heard about a man
Who cuts his skin
Letting heroin in
to say it’s his body
I knew a girl
She closes herself emotionally
To say it’s her body
That was then
But
after all these years
We’re still dying in cages

The walkway
The one who smells bad
everyone avoids him
Like so much water
Around stones
Wearing the same clothes
Day by day
He just looked up at me
And told me about Korea
About his pain
While another man
Clean and sharp
But with hollow eyes
told me about
Normandy
And
After half a century
We’re still dying in foxholes
Trying to get it right…

25
Now I’m at my window
Is 25 halfway to 50?
midnight halfway to morning?
depression halfway to empty?

if I said
I want you next to me
But still crave
An empty window
To write in
Would you understand?
I feel, everything
Everyone
In a room
I feel everything you say
Before you say it
I hear it
In that space
When your eyes look at the floor
Then dart back at me
Just before you speak
And would you understand
That I’m not boasting
I’m not
Not everyone is like this
It is the most isolating thing I’ve known.
So I want you
I want your body
Your lips
I want to love you
Feeling every part of you
Reading you like Braille
Until you come apart …
But I’m still this person
I’m still me.
25
Somewhere
Between 50
And half empty.
Trying.

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People like us

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I really like your writing, she said
I relate to it . It reminds me of my relationship with my dad ….

Laughing I said , Well thank you. That means a lot .
Back then I wrote differently
You can find it if you look deep enough into my archives .
Darker.
This gypsy girl , in love with art
the world
philosophy
astronomy .
She was like the moon , parts of her were always under shadows
I asked her about it once
she said
“I don’t want to scare you away …”
We’ve been friends for a couple years now and she is getting married to the love of her life

I can’t help thinking how we all grow
How we surprise even ourselves
that even our darkest corners are touched tenderly by the sun
We are more beautiful for our scars .
Revealed like maps
for where we’ve been
We are stronger for we have climbed mountains .
We are wiser for we have seen the world .
We are understanding and love without expectation
For we have been hurt .

This is us , the gypsies and the bohemians , the youth .
Growing up .
We didn’t fit in .
We didn’t have a label .
We were numb
But we made it
We lived it
We’re old
But not that old
And we are still living
Free.
With expression and creativity .
We’re going to be ok .
Our children are going to be ok
I think it’s funny how we change
How we suddenly are no longer afraid
How we let people in
How we overcome ourselves
How we are suddenly
where we once
Could only dream of being
This is us
This is life
It’s not a fairy tale
It cannot be controlled
But it’s a series of events
A series of decisions
Are we strong enough
To go after the things we want ?
Yes we are .
Anything is possible .
And why shouldn’t we?
After all ….
This is our stories
People like is .

“A Lesson in Entropy”

“So, kid, you’ve got to live,
and not just that stoic existence you’ve 
been stomping trough all this time.
You’ve got to be kind,
you’ve got to fall in love,
fall out of love,
no matter how much it hurts 
 because my god,
it’s worth it. 
Don’t let the world turn you to stone;
you’ve got to feel.
And sometimes,
your heart will threaten 
to march right out of your chest 
because you’re so fucking full of it all-
of the people, 
the places,
the endless days,
the eternal nights-
and kid, that’s fine.
Be brave.
Courage isn’t measured by the 
number of people you’ve turned away
or by the counts of the nights you’ve 
spent alone because you refuse to 
give someone the chance to love you. 
Being alone is not poetic;
you’ve got to let them in.
Let them peel back your skin 
and waltz into your bloodstream 
and love them,
love them,
love them.
And finally, kid,
your life has already begun.
Stop waiting.
Chaos is already underway.”
– Emily Palermo, from “A Lesson in Entropy”

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Ghosts

“My shampoo smells like condoms …
Did they mean for it to smell like this??.”
That’s how she starts her conversations
I know she’s upset ….
We both struggle with depression .
And that’s when she usually calls
So I wait

She finally says
” I’m not one to love
But if I were
I’d prefer it be a writer
Because
If a writer falls for you
well….
you live forever .
And that’s what we’re all after
Immortality .
But I can’t settle down
I won’t be owned .”

She says I need to live before I die
She will not be owned
But she carries her demons inside
She still can’t sleep at night
I wonder if any of us will ever find the time to rest

Her value didn’t change
But you treat her like spare change

I don’t understand

Maybe
Everything
Everything is just an opinion
Maybe we change as we grow
But touch is our first language
It begins as the most honest
Essential form of communication
So
Maybe sex is not just
Skin on skin
burning
physical
Maybe it’s just as much spiritual
Two souls tied together
Close , intimate , open …
Committed to each other
But then they’re torn apart ..
We tear them apart
Leaving us empty …
Emptier than ever .
Used.
it shouldn’t be so
Maybe we are young

Maybe we shouldn’t play these games
Maybe then
she wouldn’t be on the floor with a broken heart and soul
Calling me ….

Maybe in a perfect world
It wouldn’t be this way …
And we wouldn’t be jaded
we could say what we need to say …
And trust what we mean .
Maybe then
In a perfect world
Everything would be different
we wouldn’t be swayed
We would live with passion
We could stand in the face
Of adversity
We would drive all night
And we could live free .
In a perfect world
We would live
We would grow
We would see the way it’s going to be
How it ends for all of us
In a perfect world
We wouldn’t carry these shadows
They wouldn’t haunt us in our sleep .

Love is electric Love is shadow

Lovers come and lovers go
Some are quick
Some get close
Only to fade away with yesterday
And we act like it doesn’t hurt
And we act like we don’t care
And we set our face like flint
Even though we’re losing pieces of ourselves

This is what we do …
Forced to set the wounds ourselves
And raise up walls
Because we can’t take it anymore
We’re getting older , we have to live .

And I wonder if you’ve ever been touched
By anyone who really cared
If anyone’s ever waited in the rain
Just to reach across the walls
That others raised

Time will pass soon we’ll be old
And what we held back
Will just be stripped away
So what are we doing here

My scars are very different
We’ve all been hurt
I’ll hold you
When you need it
When you don’t feel
Wild when you don’t feel free
I’ll stay close
Right by your side
I never sleep anyway
And we will live
In the face of those who come to take
We can forget this place
We can sleep away.