Have Been Had

I have a choice. I can sit here and think about those nights he carelessly kept me up with metal music, or I can keep the memory of that time he played guitar to my little cousins as a bedtime story. I could think about the insults from his cruel mother or about the day I deeply cried for the death of his cruel grandmother, something he probably didn't do. I can think about the poetry, the poetry or the lies, the lies. I can keep the memories of our first kiss lying on cold cement overlooking the bridge; I thought he would change his name to Cody. I can choose to remember that time he told me to wait so he could study or the time he didn't like it when I woke him with sexy lingerie, whipped cream, and honey. I can chose to remember his passion on the backseat of my uncle's car after my cousin's wedding or his sharp coldness on the backseat of his parent's car after his sister's graduation. I can think about the night we stood in his parent's warm living room and he told me he wanted to tell them right there that he wanted me as his wife, or I can think about how he is letting me walk away forever. I can keep his sister's single bed where first times happened, my childhood bed where first I love yous happened, that glass room lit by the fireplace at the crazy lady's house, that dirty hotel we went to after I had nowhere else to go on my birthday when he ardently came twice in a roll. I can keep Sugarloaf Mountain, the sandstone color of the Wrangler, the hard ground we slept on in the tent I built at our campsite, the safety and comfort of our bright candle-scented apartment in Morristown. I can keep all that. I can throw away the days he woke with a bran new idea of who he was, driving me to five million different directions, gradually losing me more and more at each sharp turn, gradually leaving my trust steps behind us. I can forget all those times when he'd act silly and childlike around his silly childlike friends and the ignorance when he'd be too lazy to help me out around the house. I could erase the memories of when he made me GHB thinking it would turn me on; I always thought he knew better. It's painful to think I spent hours making him a smiley face chart to help guide his intake of his mysterious prescription drugs I never really understood why he had to take in the first place. You are my angel he would say, who did this to you I would ask, and I'd rock him to sleep as he'd cry from all those damn headaches. I can always chose to love Old Village Inn where we went to eat burgers after midnight, where he'd lounge singing Frank Sinatra, and where he told me about his grandfather and we made out for over an hour on the couch. I can even let Linkin Park, Sade, Candlebox, Jeff, Dave, Black Label Society contribute to all these memories. I can think about the time he gave kickboxing lessons on the terrace of my apartment in Brazil, how he loved the waves of my Praia Grande, how he's actually a really good dancer and I loved when he'd really let me teach him and we'd grind in our underwear, alone in our room. He thought it was so cute how small my t-shirts were when he folded our laundry, I thought is was so funny how he never wanted to throw his endless old beat-up t-shirts away. I wonder why he always goes back to smoking when I'm not around, I wonder where our recipe book went, I wonder if he still plays far behind and if he realizes how ironic the way it truly fits us now. I sit here and I have this choice, and in the face of all that I have been had, I chose to remember and let go of it all.

Disfigured

I can't even count these wearisome days
Not even these bumpy years
I have this persistent fear
Trapped in my gutsy throat
People are getting drunk and high
I just sit in awe of their misery
Human how easy it is to be ignorant
Dreadful how fast I can feel loneliness
Among so many great lost souls
Searching for these meek moments in vain
I am just too used to being leaned and stepped on
Learned lessons these people never will
It's not that I am any better or any worst
I just manage to face things tough as steel
It's true that today I often begin to wonder
If fears will stay tangly as they are
I hold this possibility that this might be it
My best friends just might be these disfigurements
And I need to rest in peace knowing that
I am just as damaged as I allow myself to become

Sex

His flirty stare embodies ardent sex
A spider tattoo crawling up his leg
I want to touch it and suck it
Let myself become so bad

The tea I sip is directly from China
The flowers sit red at the kitchen table
I’m remembering who gave them to me
He who warmed up that cold heavy day

Zebra and Tom meow their way between my legs
Carefully, they tangle my tired walk
It’s funny how cats are so selfish
They remind me of certain people before him

My socks pink and purple butterflies
My skin dry from the strong heat
My dirty thoughts digest this reality
Of all the possibilities yet to come

The day where the moment will arrive alone
Quiet when I’d let him reach under my shirt
Let him press his thick pressure again my leg
Until a kiss satiates all that yearning sex

I keep creating pretty images of how it’ll be
To fell that passionate for a man again
Not having to wonder where it’ll all take me
For I’d only want to live just right under his skin

Right here, feeling his smell on my lips
Mixing his culture with mine
Holding his tight cheeks so tight
Pulling him gently deep inside

For the first time in a long time
I get this high off of a smile
I long for when he rushes by me
So I can feel the tension building between our bodies

Where could I have known
That this mess would lead to this release
A longing so simple and deeply-seated
A chance to sex so incredibly needed

Positive

Tonight is in an oily paste of ugly gray
I prayed for this day
In which truth would awaken my tears
So that I could live on with no more fear

But he kept pulling me back
He kept tugging me back

So many times, I had already let him go
There was no way for me to know
He had the power to blind such intelligent minds
Or how easily he'd press a button and I'd rewind

His time here has gone
I put up this unbreakable barrier
I defended my dignity in battle
I wrapped my past in silk paper
And gave it to the angels
To keep it far away so it looks pretty
To strengthen my endless soul
To make memories an escape
To hold on to the belief in everything good
That could cross my path every day

But he kept calling me back
He kept holding me back

In fake words he would sing
And useless smiles he would bring
He is cold murder in disguise
I hope he dies as many times as he lies

I feel a soreness my heart could not imagine
A waste of the years melted within
Let me try to speak of happy things
And let me convey a light
I want to learn to inspire
Only positive aspirations in sight
I did the right thing
I opened a door to unleash my fears
Faced a lioness and a demon
Walked away a clean weakling
Willing to grow again

So now I let him go
And I can let him know
That my image stands holy
My nails bitten and my limbs bony
My head severed half way
My legs wounded from this decay

But I am sane and protected
More alive than a newborn
A gentle touch he can never feel
A cradle he can never rest in
For guilt will one day eat at him
His heart a flesh of his dirty blood
His eyes a wink in the wrong direction
A polution to warm affection
A breath stained with grease
A lover who doesn't deserve
To feel loved in the least

This is it, I've had enough
I've had more than enough

Of this worthless boy I'm speaking of

I get up, I walk, I fall down... meanwhile, I keep dancing.

And this is my life.

I woke up this morning and there was nothing to do but to stay under the covers, crunch into a little ball, and feel lonely. Those are the moments that can catch you off guard and actually make you feel human. Not a robot pumping iron everyday out in this crazy demanding world. Oh, here I am again, playing around in the land of the free, home of the brave.
And people talk about this all the time, how life goes round and round and everything happens for a reason and you should keep your head up, stay positive, learn from your mistakes. Keep up like robots, warriors in famine, hunting for fullness, glory, love and passion as if it's springtime all the time.
And all I want to do is write, listen to music, and let these tears go. I find myself in a little perfect cage, warm, roomy, safe enough to rest and feel so incredibly small. At least I always manage to find my way, my spring, every few years, and the ice slowly melts into my little palm.
I am always saying a lot but seem to be saying nothing. I hope people understand. My head can be sick and I can select the worst people to stand behind me. This silence when everyone speaks wishing me the best without knowing what I need. I rather listen to foreign slang I could never identify with than to listen to these inner screams and desperate calls which torment me in such clear nights. Some may comment how I'm lost and how I need roots and I need a diploma and I say I need comfort and honesty and guarantees.
With nowhere to trust, to feel real, to learn how to dance, there is no living, there is no feeling that conceives anything that belongs. My play on words veils a mystery sitting at the tip of my tongue, and it cant explain in language how much I feel the need to love.
All the turns life makes in order for us to find where we belong. Its long journey whose songs speak in a baby's innocent laughter, in a mirage where your lovers hand gently cups your breast, in the caring eyes of a mother singing her child to sleep.
And that's where I want my life.
People can talk about the way it should be, how goodness is inside us all, and flesh can grow from scars. Living it is a whole new estate, and trembling, my heart still questions, still stalls and breathes heavy faced upon it.
I want a new topic to write about, a new sense to my days, a new life to my dreams.
So I don't need to wake up so lonely and bleeding, and I can welcome the rain and drink its sweetness. So I can see the cold as a means to summer and as a silver strand making me yet more divine.
I want a new love that cherishes the moments in which are quiet and still, alone in an embrace, in the face of my naked skin teaching what it means to leave all inhibitions behind. I want my summer of slow streets and sandy toes, a breath of fresh air, clean and pure and gentle and kind. A touch that numbs my lips to sugar, a life given to the mastery of my eyes, and softness to my face when I wake up safe in loves arms. I want a love that lingers where I lick, a mix of first and last, a trading of nice things you do from your heart every day. A love that brings out my best, my smile, makes me dance with sex and taste sweaty all the time.
Combine every warm chest my rest has ever known, every mouth I kissed, every finger I sucked, every dinner I cooked, and underwear I washed, and make it real again. Make this love deserve my senses and my wishes and make it real again.
Bravery, strength, attitude, beauty, truth. Its all been growing steadily; ready to be released once new love is ready to enter and to caress my side.
I can see it outside, in the about to snow sky, in this place where I can see the grayish blue through the dusty window and I can snuggle with little kitties of hope. The loneliness a certain peace, allowing me to forget everything that was, and letting everything that everyone says about love and happiness wash my insides. I wash my insides; I clean my soul of all the dirt my love left behind.
I get up, I walk, I fall down... Meanwhile, I keep dancing.
There is nothing left to do but let myself cry and work and laugh again and draw new conclusions about everything that I was, am, and will become from this.

And this is my new life.

The Unsure

I hope he recognizes me
smiles when he sees me smile

A brave man
Would he be ready to face the unsure,
to be happy

Hiding behind this mask
I believe he knows
he's not gone away
having me living inside

Off to the seas, swimming
is this light
blinding my smooth darkness
stored in his destiny

May I laugh one day
when he tries to make me laugh

A strong man
Would he be ready to taste me,
to let it linger and trust it

We'd dance Carnaval at night
folding the memories
taking little notes of our embrace
resting our ocean on a white beach

My name is hidden in his poem
written with his index finger
on the sands of Newport
washed but not erased

An upper hand has a say in this
when there are signs all over his road

A deserving man
Would he know to read his heart,
to practice its religion

There is a hardness in our path
a roughness caused by my feet
a challenge chasing close by
stalling yet strengthening all we are

He is like a rain crying to my rescue
a wish made to me by a shining star
a song I compose everyday
the only peace that could end this war

Motorcycle Diaries

Such a good movie. If you haven't seen it, go rent it.
It's 2:22 am and I can't fall asleep. I have to teach early in the morning, I wish I wasn't so restless. Deep in my mind, I see flashes of memories when I start to close my eyes. I bite my nails feverishly, uncontrollably, I thought I was over that. They looked so perfectly feminine last week. Now they express the ugliness of my altered state.
I can't stop thinking about the month of May. What a gorgeous time in my life. Magic. Dream. Pleasure of the senses. I thank him for that month.
I miss the feeling I used to get while riding on his motorcycle, how stress seemed to melt away as soon as we took off. I remember holding on so tightly to his waist, feeling the cool through my clothes like air conditioning when it wasn't even summer yet. We had no doubts, no expectation, just lived for those moments of adventure and impulsiveness.
The freedom I felt inside, my thoughts had no beginning and no end, I just focused on the road ahead, on the speed, on the curves, on HIM. Trusting him completely to guide the way safely. My hair smelled like gasoline from the exhaust and his skin tasted like the leather from his jacket. I loved being so close but only being able to communicate the happiness I felt through my hands. Gently tugging oh his long tousled hair peeking under his helmet, massaging his back and tickling him while stopped at a light, even putting us in danger when I played with his nipples while in motion (hm hm). How did we lose that trust? I miss it. It was too perfect. No words needed, it was simply natural.
Riding with him took me places I will cherish in my heart forever. Brooklyn bridge at night. Fireworks at the Pier. A whopping 125mph on Route 280 in New Jersey, what a rush! Memorial Day at Long Beach, NY. Summer storm through the streets of Manhattan. Rowing little boats in Central Park. Downtown to "Azul" to eat chimichuri. That lounge with no name where we were the only people in the audience, we drank a bottle of red wine while watching the cool guy from New Orleans play the exotic country guitar. Endless memories flash constantly.
I don't want to forget that we were once beautiful and more in tune with each other than the moon is with the tide.
The smoothness of the motorcycle, the constant low vibration I felt on my seat, the heat that permeated from his body and from the asphalt reminds me of our dancing, of our sex. Our chemistry unmatched. I don't have to explain why. I just do not, ever, want to forget how powerful my love for him once was.
I give into my eternal memories of the month of May, a month of living a dream in complete bliss.
I hope he treasures it as much as I do.

Keep On Smiling

"Keep on smiling, my dear
'cause moments like this
always find their way to dissapear"

The wind bangs my shutters shut
and raindrops sound like baby syllables
as I keep smiling, I keep writing
I keep believing I am a blessed angel
fallen to cover the earth in petunias
I can't help but keep on living
I enjoy the cloudiness of my sky
knowing that with wise patience
a bright yellow sun will shine
away all these cries
that form my own rain inside,
my stain from this dead awake.

"Keep smelling the orchids,
keep on fighting for your dream,
keep on smiling, pretty girl"

I'm a woman filled to the brim with woe
bright in taste, dark in color
soft in touch, strong in words
often lost
in haste

"Don't leave it spilling to waste.
Keep on smiling, baby
and dancing these worries far away
from that perfect face"

I'll try to carry this love
to a place where no one can touch
so I can stare at it just enough
to keep my smile
knowing I've reached the top
and I've been nothing but real and true
I've given all of my soul
but wasn't careful of where I let my beauty lay
so I watched it burn to a solid strength
and became a warrior dressed in petals.
Now, I can stare out into the storm
and know I've learned
from all the mistakes I've made.

"So Dre, you keep on smiling
all this sadness away.
Trust that bleeding is OK
as long as you know how precious
your sweet blood is.
Just wait, a gift will come,
a sea of red roses
that deserves to caress your bay "

Yes, there will come a day.

My Music

You gave me music
life, blood, and all its glory.
How gorgeous were those car rides
singing off key
in the Wrangler with the top down
you taught me music
and in the quiet warmth of our bed
you played me your songs
you brought this gift to me
like you knew I was lost before it
you guided me with notes
laced me in your melody
I will be forever thankful
for you gave me back my life
you gave reason to my life
thank you for giving me strength to fight
for inspiring me to relate to lyrics
I didn't know how talented
the world out there was
until you
I didn't know how powerful
my silly words could be
until there was you.
My love is a mold
around all that is you
and all the music my heart makes
I dedicate back to you.