BCB84

There is, of course, just one person I'd rather be spending time with right now. And likely he doesn't want anything to do with me ever again. I broke the poor guy's heart once, stupidly I'll admit. And now I'm crushed inside, to a slow painful death. Love, they say, is a double edged sword. The only problem is it can cut too deeply in both directions.

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Reckon

To say that I hide behind the word love is false.
To say that I am capable of hatred as expansive as my love is correct.
But I tend to show one more than the other.
The other, the other gets hidden deep inside,
and comes out on rare occasion to feed, to play, to experience life on the surface.
To say that you have angered me nearly as much as the person in question is,
for all intents and purpose, vain.
Yes, I love you. But not to the point where I have
so much invested in that care and commitment that
when you try, no matter how ineptly, to take a swing at me or my family
that I would try, willingly, to burn you to the ground
leaving you with only one small fraction of yourself
one long, slender shard with which to slit your own wrists.
Watching your heart break in front of my eyes
is bad enough, thanks.

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Mission Control

So I've been having very bizarre dreams lately. And combined with everything else in my life, it's kind of freaking me out. The dreams involve a child - my child - and I'm not going to get into any more detail than that because, quite frankly, those dreams and instincts are not something I care to tackle on a public forum open for the world to see.

TMI and bitching below in white text, because if you want to see it, you can highlight. If not, don't.
I am not saying these dreams are indicative of anything but the stress of my missing "little buddy", who has been MIA for a month now. Nothing, even professional methods of figuring these things out, is indicative of anything out of place (or in a place where nothing SHOULD be right now). But it's starting to freak me out.

And if that's not too much information for you, I've been freaking out because certain piercings of mine have been acting up and are all of a sudden very painful. They aren't infected, but a certain piece of anatomy, it would seem, was "clogged". I discovered this today and it is only adding to my panic.

...Someone just please bitch slap me and tell me that my body is reacting negatively to stress? It would be much appreciated.

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Puerile

So I'm here, and it's Christmas. I am not able to travel the 500 + miles to see my family. My in-laws are being royal douchebags to the nth degree. I did not get to spend even one hour of the day with the husbeast. I got to spend the day with the dear roommate, who as lovely as he is, kind of makes my poor little heart ache sometimes. It's one thing than another than the first and back to the second. I wish I could sort it all out and just LOVE, but that shit ain't gonna happen if not now than ever.

And so bad, fifth grade style poetry results.

Whispers of the raindrops,
so deceptively warm for December.
Figures of the nights flash,
just before my eyes remember.
Am I dreaming, am I awake?
How can you tell,
How do you know?
Whether the spring rain
is going to turn to snow?
Just let it go. Let it go. Let it go.

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Meet Me By The River's Edge - The Gaslight Anthem

See I've been here for 28 years.
Pounding sweat beneath these wheels.
We tattooed lines beneath our skin.
No surrender, my Bobby Jean.

We've been burned by all our fears.
Just from growing up around here.
Our father's factories marked our cars.
While Eden burned against the stars.

And Sally said, Sally said.
I can't take no more regret.
It cut us deep, into our souls.
Came and climbed into our bed.
And Sally said, Sally said.
Meet me by the River's edge.
We're going to wash these sins away.
Or else we won't come back again.

You know I had these ballroom dreams.
That, as a child, came to me.
I was a boy in Grandma's arms.
A mother's pride and a wounded heart.
And I was full with fiery wonder.
You wore Audrey Hepburn pearls.
You were the only one who understood me then and the only one who will.

And Sally said, Sally said.
I can't take no more regret.
It cut us deep, into our souls.
Came and climbed into our bed.
And Sally said, Sally said.
Meet me by the River's edge.
We're going to wash these sins away.
Or else we won't come back again.

And now I drive the 101 on the California night.'
And I'm amazed at all the stars beneath that old Hollywood sign.
And they waltz, A BALLET ON THE BOULEVARD, to a place we never kept.
And I'm not sure if we belong here, if I ever really left, or If I can go home.

And Sally said, Sally said.
I can't take no more regret.
It cut us deep, into our souls.
Came and climbed into our bed.
And Sally said, Sally said.
Meet me by the River's edge.
We're going to wash these sins away.
Or else we won't come back again.

No retreat. No regrets.
Meet me by the river's edge.

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I Can Only Be What I Am

I can only be what I am, dear readers, just as this medium of cold unprinted matter can only be what it is. But this cold and unprinted medium is precisely a reflection of what I am not - cold, sterile, angry, bitter and full of hatred.

I am, no matter how unfortunate it may seem, quite the opposite of those adjectives so carelessly used to describe me. I am the person who will not let those she loves - friends, family, strangers, even enemies at times, want for anything. It is contrary to my very nature to see those I care for in any way hurting. Don't believe me? Ask how long I tried to be civil to my rapist. Almost four months.

I am a whole and loving person. I cannot help the way I was created. I am a person capable, and nigh, more than capable, of loving more than one person. I do not blame genetics, I do not blame upbringing. I do not claim something as intangible as my soul. But it is what it is. And I have found myself apologizing many many times lately for doing as I do - that is to say, loving.

I cannot change the fact that I love any more than I can change WHO I love. I cannot change these feelings, for better or ill, regardless of how I try. I have tried to smother them, dampen them, transmutate them into rage, hatred or a seethingly blind fury. And still in the end it is what it is.

To lay out my ideal life is to claim the stuff of fantasy, of legend. A life so implausible that it would never survive in this world. I want, plain and simple, those who love me to be in my life. No more and no less than one another. I would like to be able to give myself freely in every capacity to those I love in every way, shape and form. To create a family with those, to create a life, a home, an entire lifetime with those I love. Most of all, I wish not to have to apologize for it. Because if there is one trait I can stand to lose, it's the overwhelming apologetic nature that I have.

And I am done apologizing for what I feel and how I feel it and whom I feel it for. To be forged from the same fire as I am is to be unabashedly and thoroughly unashamed of what and who I am. To be who I am is not to claim indifference or indignity at the hands of others. Everything I touch, I change. Imagine a pond, calm and serene. Throw a rock into that pond, and there will, for a time, be ripples upon the surface. When the rock has settled to the bottom of that pond, the pond may appear the same as it always has once the ripples have subsided. But it is forever changed. I am that rock. The world is my pond. And every ripple I make eventually subsides, but things are never the same.

You may look at me and see nothing worth looking at - a sorry little lump of a girl who can, at times, barely speak above a whisper. Who can, at times, barely seek to look beyond the passions of her heart. You may see someone who may look thoroughly unable to achieve the things I have already achieved, to feel what I already feel. But to do so would be to sorely underestimate me.

I have my dignity, which I have all but sacrificed. I have my strength, that which is mine and mine alone and that which was passed onto me through those who have come before me. And it has all but diminished. I have my love, and those I love, no matter how tenuous it may seem at times. I have my heart, which is ever capable of mending and changing itself to accept the circumstances, regardless of what is thrown upon it. I have an all consuming, raging desire to make a difference, make people understand, make ONE person understand. To change. To help. To hope. And those things are so intrinsic to my nature that no matter how hard others try, or no matter how hard *I* try, they cannot be stripped from the very essence of what makes me, ME.

I will not apologize any longer, friend, for feeling how I do to you. I will not apologize when I say that at one time, I felt I loved you. I felt I could be the one to work out the pain, the sorrow and the anguish you feel. I will not apologize that I was disappointed when you said that I could not be all that you needed me to be. I do not regret that I still wish you could understand that I could easily fill that void, meet those goals, hopes and dreams and give you all that you wish to have in this world. But I, for one, am done apologizing for it. Because it is who I am, and it is what it is.

And I am no longer ashamed or afraid of the gods and idols that I have made. So leave the words, leave the worlds, let it all hang out and let go. I'm done with facades. I'm done trying not to care. The cards are all laid out on the table, and I'm going to play the hand I'm dealt until i can no longer hold those cards. Because, in a nutshell, that's life.

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Just give me what I need,
say the words to make this all right again.
I don't know what I did,
to earn your anger
or your animosity.
But I'm sitting here alone,
all alone again
In the dark
wondering what I did
to make myself the target of something so awful
when it used to be so good.

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Hiatus

Brain took a shit on me due to some issues around the house. "I Promise I'm Not (that) Crazy" will return shortly. In the meantime, read some lyrics.

She Wants Revenge - "Tear You Apart"

Got a big plan, his mind's set, maybe it's right
At the right place and right time, maybe tonight
In a whisper or handshake sending a sign
Wanna make out and kiss hard, wait never mind

Late night, in passing, mention it flip to her
Best friend, it's no thing, maybe it slipped
but the slip turns to terror and a crush to like
when she walked in he froze up, leave it to fright

It's cute in a way, till you cannot speak
And you leave to have a cigarette, knees get weak
escape was just a nod and a casual wave
Obsess about it, heavy for the next two days

It's only just a crush, it'll go away
It's just like all the others it'll go away
Or maybe this is danger and you just don't know
You pray it all away but it continues to grow

I want to hold you close
Skin pressed against me tight
Lie still, and close your eyes girl
So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close
Soft breath, beating heart
As I whisper in your ear
I want to fucking tear you apart

Then he walked up and told her, thinking maybe it'd pass

And they talked and looked away a lot, doing the dance
Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there
Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare

They took a step back, thought about it, what should they do
Cause theres always repercussions when you're dating in school
But their lips met, and reservations started to pass
Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last

Either way he wanted her and this was bad
Wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy
Now a little crush turned into a like
And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her

I want to hold you close
Skin pressed against me tight
Lie still, and close your eyes girl
So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close
Soft breath, beating heart
As I whisper in your ear
I wanna fucking tear you apart

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Sometimes you have to wonder
When you lose something or someone
Was it ever really as big of a deal as you
Ever made it out to be?
Maybe its for the best old friend,
if I kept me FOR me
Because as much as I love you,
you are never going to understand
You will never be able to see,
Exactly what it is
That makes you special.

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Solitaire - Verse, chorus, verse, etc.

This game of solitaire is mocking me.
And I'm not sure just what it is you see
in her.
I've got four aces in each hand,
but you're not the kind of man
who would make a gamble just to play.

So what is it that I've done so wrong?
Why is it that I've tried so long
To make you understand?
What is it that I've done so wrong?
Why is it that you've come on strong
And left me standing
in your dust.

I couldn't be more wrong for you,
And you couldn't be more right
By the time the hurt sinks in
I've realized that I am not your friend
But someone you mistrust.

Why do you do these things to me, leave me standing all alone?
Why can't I make you smile, just chill you down, to the bone?
Why can I do no right, and I'm always wrong?
And why you'll never hear this song?

Chorus
I've waited each day
Just to hold you once at night
One single kiss
And it's over...goodnight.

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An Open Letter to Myself - December

Dear Self,
You've really gone and done it now. I'm not sure any part of you remains that isn't tortured, hurt or scarred beyond belief. You really screwed the pooch on this one, self. Nice going. You'd think you'd have learned by now. But that's okay. Because self, you've always had this nice little feature where you can erase the parts of you that you don't want known anymore. And you don't want any of it known anymore. The compassion, caring, love and kindness are all going into that nice little box you keep on reserve for such situations.

Can I say I'm glad, self? No. I fucking hate it. But it's necessary and absolutely crucial to your survival. You have alienated, pushed away and run off everyone you could even remotely call a friend, lover, or family member who isn't related to you by blood or some convoluted sense of pride. Can you count, self? That leaves you with five people total.

Sometimes I wonder, self, why they don't understand. Why they can't get how you are, why they aren't even willing to listen. I wonder why they don't take the time to try - because frankly, self, they killed off the best thing that they will ever have without ever knowing it. It's gone, done, dead and buried and there's nothing anyone can do to stop the path you have now set into motion.

Your mother in law is a royal bitch who cannot understand how her son has come to love someone so different from her own ideals. Your sister in law is the biggest junkie known to man, and cannot seem to understand that, yes, it is possible to love more than one person and that, god forbid should she ever find someone who can put up with her shit instead of immediately shoving a cock down her throat just to shut her up, that she should be so lucky to be able to ALLOW that person to take the time to do what they need to do. And that you write the textbooks her happy ass will be buying for her short stint at ITT tech before she flunks out because she was found dead in a gutter from a heroin overdose brought on by some bad shit that your uncle and aunt in law supplied her.

Self, are you worried that they will read this? Not in the least. In fact, I think you welcome it. Because they set in course a path of motion that made every ounce of love in your body turn to hate. Every seed of nurturing compassion turn to the urge for destruction. And in the process, allowed someone you love to care naught for even a moment how it would harm you.

Harm you? yes. You were stupid self, and allowed yourself to be harmed. But no longer. Because that part of you is DEAD.

Goodnight self,
Your friend,
Caitlin

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I want so badly to be cold,
to hurt you,
to wound you.
And I can't bring myself to do it.
I sit here and sob,
apparently a spoiled little girl who has lost her toy.
Unfortunately you were never a toy to me.
Just someone I loved.

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You can't even talk to me,
won't even look me in the eye.
Can't offer comfort,
won't offer love.
Why is it always like this with you?
Break my heart in two.
Two more.
And two more again.
I'm left broken and lying on the floor
Holding the mess
created by you.

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Fuck.
You.

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DLA

Once again, I put my trust in you.
Trust that you would not hurt me.
Once again I gave my heart to you.
But not once more will I do it.
A quick and easy distraction,
that's all you'll ever see me as.

And that's fine.
You can distract yourself now.
Because.
I.
Am.
Done.
With.
You.

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12/01/09 - Make it Break so I don't Have To.

In a dream I shall feel the world.
Through splendid cities pierced with light;
mad with love, my tears float very slowly;
It lies in wait! for more than a thousand years!

Contained in the vast ether, floating
and waiting to reach you on the dark lilac waterways.
- with a cloak of ignorance, to place love in the rose, and not the thorns.
My heart has murmured its ballad.
Whence does he come? The sky is hell red where all the stars above
between here and there are sleeping,
coddled awake by the ferocious howls of She
who has lost He.

Slowly he turns his head,
Body streaked by the heavy wave
of sorrow that emanates from her every soft sob.
Under the light of this darkness, with barely enough
of a glow to make the tracks of tears
glimmer on her cheeks;
And the pain that holds her heart, sparkles.

Weep on her shoulder,
Mount her very soul.
Your love will; in the end,
devour her again.

Into the ferocious tide a scream that could tear you apart rips the tide
whose sobs realize incredible, far away vistas
of sour apples pale-eyed pretentious pieces of ass
The hookers on south Main, and the mothers of the world
Don't weep. She was stupid.
Didn't she realize that
in antique dreams that were scented twilight,
and flavored with the dust he left her in,
I hung there, watching it all.

Together we waited,
waited for him to realize
That she was the best he could wish for,
the most he could hope for. With her, he would want for nothing.
But he'll always want more.
And she'll always have less.

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Frostbitten butterfly wings

Sugar's fading in the basement
seeing red starry lights.
Drowsing in the remains of confetti
in strawberry pinks and periwinkle blues.

Mama's in the backyard
In the blood stain'd orchard
with her feet resting
in a pile of gold and glitter sand.

Sugar's mind begins to wander
to the time she kissed him,
the countless thousand and one times,
her black emerald, pulsing in the midnight breeze.

Burn the world, as it melts away
Into a seafoam hued watercolor painting
And take this sickly bile colored sky
away from here.
It doesn't belong here.

And neither do I, Sugar thought,
her legs beginning to pull her up,
ripping flesh from the viscera beneath
as she pulls herself from the honeysuckle floor.

Mama's languishing,
in a pink cranberry lace nightgown
and a bottle of Jack in hand,
watching the horizon
for the next atom bomb.

The flowery ghost of the old chintz wallpaper
grinding to a halt,
the whisper and echo of countless screams
a million and one screams,
holding her to the floor.

Sugar left that night,
Sugar left that night,
but not through the front door,
But not before,
the frostbite came on butterfly wings,
making her unknown again,
unconscious again.

Sugar left that night to a land of sepia hued dreams.

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