Sunday, February 1, 2009

said the owl to the girl

day defeated.
day of hope.
constantly traversing.
and that's prolly the wrong word.
but it fits for me, i look like a dirty gypsy,
and this is a defeated day so
i don't care.

my red balloon of hope comes and goes.
in and out. here then gone.
so many things to pay off.
lots of missed chances because of finances.
and then encouragement from people who've been here.

(if you are a person out there that i owe money to.
just remember, i haven't forgotten.
i just don't have it.
and i'm sorry.)

i hope in the meantime, our friendship is sufficient.
but know that i understand, these are all hard times.

and weekends full of friends aren't even
withstanding me these days. which is sad.
but i'll say oh well, like always.

some days, oh so content in my little crowded bedroom
with my bed on the floor and magnolias and owls and
tiny versions of former roommates staring at me.
old coffee cups not rinsed out.
masking tape. and postcards. and poems. and flutes.
and books and my scarves that drape above me and
sometimes sit under the covers with me. and the papers
and journals and scribbles that live in my bed i sleep
next to these words and the pencil drawing of the large,
naked, nameless women and my piggy bank holding nothing.
i can be happy.

and other days are long days in the box office where i sit behind
barred windows, speaking to ungrateful patrons and backstage
to get food i walk past actresses with their hair and makeup and
silky robes warming their voices and i miss that world so much
but my break is over i have to go upstairs and later clock out,
drive home, change, look in the fridge, none of that food is mine,
and drive to azusa and watch seinfeld say goodnight and drive home
again to dark house finding my sweats with the light from my cell
phone don't bother to wash off the eyeliner i'm tired but i could
keep going if i had to. and i have to. and i know i can't pay rent
tomorrow. and that's when i get a text from (him) and it says
something like you're beautiful or remember when.. and it's
enough to get me to sleep so i can start over soon.

and she said, "we should write a book about post-grad life."
and i said, "please." and thought please can we go back in
time and i could read it before i graduate?


Tobin said...

oh honey...

some people like to 'talk it out'
some like to 'hug it out'
and some write it out >us, often

we shall panshmake and coffee this out soon enough.

jamie said...

yes, lets denny's this all soon.