emnoodlehead's blog

step into the brightly lit office room-
away from all natural light.
seat yourself at a beige cubical and
type at an empty computer.
have occasional awkward conversations with the
rude employee next to you.
pray that lunch isn't too far off.
shuffle into the break room without looking up-
that can cause more work from the boss to you. beware.
go back to your desk and tap tap tap tap
your pencil against the carpeted grey wall.
work more.
do less.
leave quickly.

sleep.

repeat.

I’m driving so dizzy that my tears circle my cheek
Before falling to my tense thigh.

The gas petal finds herself released because all
My foot wants to do is darkly tango with the break petal.

I dig deeply through my jacket pockets in order to find a sign of my former life.
All I find is dryer lint (3 months old)-
A little messy piece of a job not-so well done reminding me of
How imperfect my actions can be.

I roll down the window-
Jerking my shoulder in a circular motion hard so that fresh air
Can quickly fill my musty car.

A midnight breeze captures the lint and carries
It to a distant blade of deep green grass where it rests alone.

My former life was:
Before noticing every bottle in every room
Before a good day could turn so badly, so quickly
Before drinking became drugging
Before I didn't know how to handle myself.
My former life was
Before a little piece of dryer lint.

My stomach is tightening with

I was walking down a crowded downtown street
With a classic blue sky above my head when I recognized
Your skeleton figure ahead of me.
I squeezed the two hands I was holding-
The hands of two dear friends who I had (thankfully) met
After we broke up for the last time over a year ago.
.
"That's her" I said softly so that only
The two beside me could hear.
"Oh" one of my friends said.
"Yeah, can we go somewhere else?" I uttered
"Okay" answered the other.

I had only seen you a few times since that frighteningly angry day when
We said goodbye for the final time.
You looked better than I remembered.
Your hair was a different color but I saw you smile-
At some other girl’s pretty face.
The girl didn’t matter.
I hadn’t seen you smile in so long.
Do you remember that day when you asked me to fly with you?
I asked where and you answered with some
Lovable complement about my hair that we had just dyed red.
You used to smile, remember?
I do.

I'm trying really hard to not use the word
Need here because
I don’t need a drink (lie)-
I want
A room full open shiny bottles and girls dancing freely.
I don't need to get high (true)-
I just want the thick smoke to fill my thirsty lungs.
I don't need your bullshit (absolute truth)-
I want to forget about my own.
I don’t need
But I want very much (lie).

The only noise I can hear in this
Beige apartment building:
A pitter-patter of the rain as it falls, then echoes, Sounding a tinge into my mother’s metal sauce pan that is Still caked with a sticky layer from last week’s dinner of canned corn.

First rain of the month;
23rd day of June.

Walking past signs that advertise a life unwanted,
I make my way through the city,
Trying to find a small piece of home and comfort.

Living on my own had promised excitement.
Yet, as I listen to my roof leak,
I realize that this neon city has done little for me.
The quite loneliness of an empty population has only taught me how to listen to a low Rent fee drip with weather’s shower.

At my VYWC workshop the leader had us write a few mini-ideas and here are some of mine:

My lost words and actions
Never echoed the way I had imagined they could,
Instead they timidly sunk to a grimy bedroom floor
Where I know my arms will never be quite long enough
To reach them and claim them again.

One word stares determinedly at my beating breast
As if it could form a shape inside,
A shape of an emotion
An emotion that swims in empty lakes and flooded puddles.

The darker sun beats down upon the shoulders of a working class
Who have to punch limbs of Mother Nature
In order to feed the newborns and keep the aged.

I don't know how to write about this quite yet,
I don't know how much guilt I've added within the past few days
Where you have been gone and how much existed before:
Not visiting you when I should have
Not calling you on your birthday
Taking our dinner dates for granted.

I went to your apartment a week ago
To bring you a sunflower (they were her favorite, but I know you already knew that, best friends have to).
You weren't home, out to lunch by yourself again.
I walked away without much worry

I wish I had stuck around.

You loved me without question,
And I to you.

I've already lost most of my family in these past
14 years but I guess He wanted one more.

Now you are higher than this pen or keyboard shall ever go.
Please tell my grandparents about how sometimes
I'm still the little child they said goodbye to years ago
And remember how even though our veins ran differently
You were more of a grandmother to me than
She was around long enough to be.

(Note: This is meant to be slammed and I'm trying to figure how to work the whole Podcast thing, so it is meant to be listened to, not read).

I let
The artificial raindrops
Cover me
From painted toe nail up through
My legs-those damn limbs that ran too fast for too long,
To my torso where you once held my hips not too long ago
And the drops keep going
Keep going
Through my head-where my thoughts don't just run,
They walk wildly.
The drops no longer listen to
Gravity’s serenade
But go from the tile floor up,
Reversing all that is
Expected.
Washing out
Each little
Dirty drop of liquid from the sky
That tickled
A twirling dancer inside of me who
Beats a drum,
With every hurt brought to her
She pummels the pain inside of her
In that
Steady
Rhythm
That never
Ceases.
Artificial rain
Washes away the
Real stuff
And the drum beats
On.

The clash of thoughts inside
My worn out head
Make me want to find a wall
And beat my soft skull against it
But unfortunately
All of the walls are made out of
Kind words that bend with every movement.

i have three sweatshirts on
and the warmth is rushing into my cheeks

i keep getting hotter and
hotter
but taking any layer off right now
doesnt seem possible

each one keeps me warm
and has all winter
but now that the summer air is
moving in I dont know what to do

my wise mother tells me that its okay
to put one away
but she doesnt understand
that really
its not okay
for me
and hasnt been for a while now

It's been an angst filled week
And one hell-of-a confusing day.

I didn't go to the midnight show that I promised I would,
Good friends and even better music
Didn’t sound alright tonight.
I'm not going to the party after either
Where twisting lights and bottles of empty joy
Fill their tiny apartment.
No,
Instead I'm sitting in an empty house
With R.E.M. blasting through an old record player that needs a new needle.

I'm in tears every other minuet
And trying to jiggle the liquor cabinet open
In-between wiping the wetness off my softly red cheeks.

You said that I could call you if I needed,
But you're at a sleepover
And I'm not even sure you can stand me anyway now
So instead I'll just keep banging on the cabinet door
Hoping that by some miracle this night will pass and this door will stay locked.

I want to do something
But all I can seem to do is wait until
I finally can’t take it enough.
After all, I haven’t forgotten where my mom hides the
Real

His shining silver mini van
Held me and my sweaty track equipment.
"You’re not a freshman" he said
"And you're not a junior" I retorted.
We flirted for a few miles,
The way two friends would when trying to pass some time.

He looked at me for a little,
The awkward pause that
Can be interrupted in many ways.
The car veered off to the side of the
Road, almost into a ditch.
"Are you two lezbo lovers?" He asked referring to the girl I was with when he announced that he was leaving the track meet's parking lot and that I should come if I wanted a ride home.

"No." I said straightly.

"Is she..." He said, almost finishing the sentence but not quite.
"Yes, but we're not..."I said, almost finishing mine.
He leaned across empty beer bottles sprinkling the floor and
Kissed me lightly, then hard,
Longer than I’m used to and faster than I wanted.

I thought I made it clear that I'm queer.

I thought he was pulling over to fuss with his i pod.

I thought wrong

You are the girl who
Knows how to swim in my deepest thoughts
And not drown under the tons of pressure.

You are the girl whose
Mother thinks I'm a scary American teenager
Who wants to convert her daughter.

You are the girl who
I spent all my little and big years with
No matter how distant others grew.

You are the girl who
I've seen cry over and over again
And who I have all the sympathy in the world for,
Still.

You are the girl who
I took naps with under the city’s big heavy sun
After long winters.

You are the one
That I haven't been able to stop
Thinking about
Ever since your He
Wasn’t as charming as promised.

We flirt (as always)
But I want more (again)
Are you ready this time?
Or am I just going
Back to my old delusions?

I chopped down the ancient oak tree
For you because you were
Too short to see over it
And a fiery curiosity is hard to
Turn away from.
Then, you grew
Tall
And saw too much with those pale blue eyes.
Now we'll have to wait until spring
So I can plant a sapling
To shade your heavy shoulders
From the obnoxious sun's rays.

My number has
Been called
Again
And my honor
Has been tried
Again.
I'm trying to
Find enough
Momentum
To get up
But its tough
When America’s obese
Children weigh
Down your chest
And the world's
Starving daughters are
At your breast.