Blue sky? Orange sky? Where have you gone?
The night has swallowed all the light, all the color, all the sound.
I want to go back to the place with the starry lights that brighten the sky in the dead of night.
Because where there are buildings there are people,
Where there are people there is life,
And the dead of night is always alive and the sky in the night is inviting.
It speaks to you with the simple moon, and in blue shadows under your feet,
And through the glowing lights in people’s eyes
Filled with pain, and sweet memories, and deceit.
They are ugly and beautiful and you can’t help but stare into…
They remind you of you
And you’re stuck
To them
Like glue.
An intoxicating, industrial kind
That poisons your heart and drunkens your mind
So you become forgetful, and free.
And in the black dark you can find yourself,
In city lights and laughter and the possibilities on the street,
In the people that you meet,
In the city’s reflection in their shiny cat eyes,
And in knowing that your eyes too can glow in the dark,
In the night,
In the city light.

Blue sky, or is it orange?
The day is only halfway glowing now
The sun is silently sinking down
Somewhere, glittering in the ocean.
My mind is filled with purple clouds
Exhaled through my nose as smoke
Dragon thoughts fly through the air
And over the world they FLOAT
Float float my boat.
Gently through this dream
…Sleeping pills have killed my thoughts
Isn’t it what I wanted?
I think I’m not alone anymore. Sleep is my companion now

The faithful sun yawns into the blue sky, orange sky, hidden beneath the black.
It blinks its eyes and slowly rises into the purple ocean of night.
The lights are shining in downtown Dallas. The pimps got their money so they can lay down their heads. Their broken girls follow as if they were dead.
Maybe there’s a voice that sings outside their window with shades drawn tight, dancing with the day and its bright sunlight…
Oblivious and dreaming, lost in the dark.
When the sun goes down and their eyes come up, they own the night by selling themselves.
Blue sky, orange sky, lights, and money

BLUE sky, melts to orange. Clouds fly like smoke.
The moon is rising over Dallas and I’m a million miles away
Stationary. I watch the night come in wonder.
Purple ghosts of memories and wishes whisper to me on the starry breeze
And I want to go, where? I don’t know.
To find the world where my love grows
In cities and buildings on streets and in people and in the blue sky, orange sky

Yesterday, yesterday. Why? I know before I do it that they will know, they always do. They feel it in the particles in the air that I disturb by my presence, my essence. They feel it before they see it. Therefore I have no way to pretend. I am another person, mentally indeed, as my insides become naked and I bear my heart completely and openly to the world, forgetting the safeness of my inhibitions. Embarrass me. Fuck all the formerly quiet perversions of my silence. When the claws scratch, when the waves of reality, the suffocation of sense and thought and memory begin to soak through the cracks of mind, I begin to care. Before that, floating in intoxication, I never care. Don’t want to. And, the alcohol gives me what I want, every time, never failing, always faithful.

I have turned myself into this desperado… Always asking always wanting always trashing my pride for my desire.

Drunk. In the attic because they said I can’t stay here anymore. Nobody knows I’m here. I was on the front porch smoking a cigarette when he pulled up. I raised my eyes and he was looking at me. He said, “what are you doing here?” His face was hard and his eyes were stone, cold.
“I don’t know… I can leave.”
“Yes you can. And you will, after last night. You will never stay here again.”

I would love to live somewhere else where I wasn’t a burden, I would love to live a life that was my own. But the truth is, I have nowhere to go. I have nobody…

I fantasize a lot. I picture it, I feel the gun in my hand, the stop or go decision and the power of a second. Now, I know my life is nothing. A grain of sand, a drop of water, a dying star amongst millions alive and thriving.

For tonight, can the moon be the sky’s beauty mark, can the ocean be a friend, can my words be sweet, and tender?

It truly is a war of good and evil. The world. My soul. I myself feel perfectly split down the center, like a tree struck by a bolt of lighting, laying open. Hypocritical as can be, burning to do what’s right while I drown in my sinful miseries. Good and bad, so bad. The good is a vision of who I want to be, blameless and desirable- a role model, even- and alive with hope. The bad tells me I am hideous in my heart and ugly to see, a fat and pathetic female; it controls my ideas of sex and love and opposite gender relationships; it tells me love is a lie; it will never let me forget; it tells me people are not worth helping but only good for hating; it is the anger that melts my words, making them something I don’t recognize.
Judgemental. Mean. Selfish. Small-minded. Unfuckinggrateful. I am everything I see and dislike in others. I am ashamed, and afraid, and not good enough, and unhappy.
This is what I am up against. This is what every human on this earth and every body to breathe before us and every heart to beat after us has had to, is, and will have to be up against. The sickness of evil. A nasty disease, it is venom stewing in the tough muscle of a heart, pumping into the liferiver with each beat.
To rid myself of the ever-present sting of this poison I must cut open my heart and bleed the bad out, until this me is dead and a new heart has replaced the old, clean and red and ready.
I can bleed here.