crib tour

 

Spent my last dollar getting to the beach

What is the harm in calling yourself what you want to become? Maybe saying it out loud, maybe faking it until it is true?

It won't hurt to try I am just scared sometimes, that's all

so, I am a poet now. 

You don't always have to be born one. I decided by the seaside today. 

I can be anything as long as I am by the ocean. I'll be anything if I feel at home. 

Every drop in the sea is a lullaby to an infant. Every grain of sand, the work of a thousand men. 

The seashells stoned from the thrashing around. That wind isn't very nice and if I didn't feel it against me constantly, I'd dare say it didn't exist. How else did the tide drag all those shells to my feet? 

My feet. Those I do like. Those I think real. Because I am real. I'm not always what I want to be, but I can say I always exist. 

The mermaids, they do not say much. They can smell your desperation to speak with them.

Smells of desperation with underlying hints of doubt, they will tell you nothing.

Offer them shiny things and ask before drinking the water, they'll throw you a line.

I want to be like them. Waking up, mirror in hand, gawking over myself. My mind made up. 

The sea tried to kill me once when I was seven. The mermaids stole my family heirloom ring. 

All these things and still I would spend years in the muck that is the beach. 

The billboard beer selling venue, a dollar, another another another dollar

I spend my last paycheck on the gas to get there and the mermaids know that. 

I saw starfish the size of my head. 

I forgot what kissing feels like already.

It is better that I forget. 

Mermaids don't date; they are simply infatuated with themselves. 

That better suits me. 

That is a poet if I knew better. You'd have no way to prove if I knew better. 

Today at Sea

Today at sea, I saw my reflection in the murky tide

I saw a version of me I cannot hide

If there were a woman there 

She would have cried

If not for the deep siren's lullaby 

And there, in the sky, I saw something new

A beautiful feeling 

A hope for you and I

I pray to the sea, asking this to stay

Let it be true

 when i am in a good mood, the world seems to be in the same state

 I feel deep green today. I never thought green was the correct color to be associated with envy. Envy feels yellow to me, sickening. 

And to think you made me exude that color, even once. I feel much less angry now. Last month I spent preparing for spontaneous combustion. It is spontaneous. 

How could I even begin to prepare for something like that? 

That got me thinking that there is hardly a thing someone could have shared with me in my adolescence that would've prepared me for all of this. You are supposed to have life happen to you, regardless.

I went to an adult party. I never feel like the youngest there. 

Green feels dazed and illusionary to me. Never envy. 

The shower floor is like a mother's womb. 

There I lay, back in the cycle. 

I Just Never Stop

The moon is full tonight. The moon aligns with Leo's constellation. I dream a little deeper.

My dog cries because she knows I am leaving soon. I don't know how to say goodbye. 

Today I walked the shores like it was the border of the Universe.

I danced with the seafoam like it was a lover across the room.

I got drunk, sat back against the hotel room wall, and I prayed a prayer so heartfelt I may have invented a new way to pray. I love to pray now. I really do. I'm not lying.

I like things that I swore I would never like. Tomatoes on sandwiches. Gin. Company in my home. The point is that you can't swear to remain. You won't. Something might shift and seldom do we intentionally make that change. I keep thinking. I just never ever stop.

 

A sleep where you dream

 I have been seeing my younger self in me quite often recently. 

Sometimes she'll peak through or channel through me.

She makes her quiet appearances, only when she feels it is safe to.

I was always like that. Always testing the water first to make sure it was okay.

I think myself careful.

When I laugh, I can hear her and when I cry, too. 

She loves all the music my mom used to play on our frequent trips down and up that mountain.

That mountain that made me.

All I have to say to her is thank you and I hope she hears that gratitude. I wish I could go back and visit her as the woman I am now. 

I would let it be known to her that she has a lot of love and peace on the way. Those are things she seldom felt in the way children should feel all the time. Love should be second nature. 

My hair was so long, and it hung perfectly and delicately over my slender frame, which I would later learn to loathe, and even later, embrace.

She'll see the world and she will be allowed to, without restrictions or walls in the way. 

She will learn to breathe into every moment, and she'll have outside influences, like steady friendships, that will aid her in learning how to do so. 

Whenever she peeks through, I greet her and tell her she can come out and play. She is reluctant, of course. 

It is nice to look back and know where you have come from and what you have come away from. 

If she met me, she'd bounce of the walls of her own heart. 

That may just be one of the sweetest feelings the universe has to offer. Feeling like the person you are now is a person that that little girl would just die to evolve into. When you go to bed feeling like that, you sleep a sleep unlike any other.

It's a sleep where you dream, and you dream well.