I Want To Be

The dragon tattoo that

wraps up and around your

body,

jets up your

thighs,

chicanes at your

hip,

and crawls diagonally up your

back.

I want to be those claws.

I want to dig into your

skin.

The only pair of shoes you

own

that you

never wear because bare is better;

sitting in your

closet;

waiting for you

to slip me on and tie me up.

I want to be that canvas.

I want to keep those feet warm.

The shelf with all your

books,

novelty items, and pictures of you

too;

empty during your

lonely times;

full during your

good times.

I want to be that wood.

I want to see your

good and bad times.

~Longevity.

Love,

Digress.

I Am Jaded

I can recall the feeling.

It was like an eight month

hang over.

There is little I can

do so

I salute you.

I only wish to do well

by honouring you.

Until then,

I shall turn

away from your grave

with a scrambled heart.

Love,

Digress.

Tomorrow looms

Is it so wrong to feel nothing? I feel no butterflies when we kiss(ed) and I don't want more hugs and I don't giggle-like-a-4th-grade-girl-with-her-first-crush. You crush(ed) me. But only partly, only a little more than I already was crushed by life-takers and 6 tattoos and brown eyes gone grey. I say 6 years, change for me. Become that perfection that can rescue me and fix this sh** and pull at the corners of my mouth until I smile I have to smile. Misery is always a delayed reaction. The journey goes as follows: shock (always first), laughter (because that makes it not real), (attempted) repair, ineedtotakecareofmyself, letgo giveup i'msorrybutican't. happiness? denial, bitter because i was so stupid to let you drag me down, imissyou he can't fill your void. misery. And there are two "you"s which is not the same as having only one. One from a history book. One, the other, an aching scorched tearing ripping agonizing.....void. A goneness that only YOU could leave. So I feel nothing. No bluebirds singing no homecooked dinners no butterflies. And I'll learn not to give in to the nighttime with its sadness and hurtyoulikeyouneverhurtbefore seductions. And what I want to know is when and how does healing start? Is it a self-starter or is it a choice one makes? I make?And tell me one last final thing, I want you to answer me this: did you ever deserve me?

June 5th 2007

"Our bodies are mere shells, containers of our souls." After reading this quote my senior year of high school in a book called "Tuesday's With Morrie" I was stunned with its accuracy. No matter how much our bodies change as we age, or how they may change when we get sick, it is what is on our hearts or our souls that is most important. And what was inside my Grandfather's heart and soul is amazing. As the oldest, I was chosen by my Grandmother to represent the Grandchildren, to tell from our perspective just how much this man meant to us and how the times we spent with him and the memories we made together will be forever cherished. For me when I think about my Grandfather I remember the first 13 years of my life living in his home. I remember him taking care of me, loving me, and simply being there whenever I needed anything. But what I also remember are the lessons he taught me. There are also three distinct character traits that come to mind when I think of him. The first being drive. My Grandpa never gave up on anything or anyone. He drove his Grandchildren to do our homework, help out around the house, or do whatever else was needed of us. The second trait I believe best describes our Grandpa would be strength. Grandpa always dealt with every new hand life dealt him with plenty of strenght to face it. We have all seen Grandpa face the challenges of this past year and a half with strength, but that was a public display, not the only. And last but certainly now least, passion. OUr Grandfather loved his family with a deep passion, always there for us, and never let us down. Even though most of us knew him as a man of few words, none were needed for any of us to know how much he loved us. All of these things stick out in my mind, my cousins also have memories. Ryan Kornack, the second born Grandchild loved the way that we always knew Grandpa loved us, and how he always made special time with him, whether to just have a casual conversation, or to spend a couple hours watching Grandpa's beloved Illini basketball games. Austin Kornack, the third born Grandchild loved the family time we all spent, like this past Christmas when we all made a trip to Colorado. He also loved the way Grandpa was there to help anyone that needed it. He remembers especially, Grandpa being there to help his family through a tough time. Dylan Kornack, Grandchild at four years old loved the times Grandpa would play with him. Benjamin, and Samuel Harris, the youngest two Grandchildren who live in Colorado are too young to share any memories with me, but they will always know how much their Grandpa loved and cared about them and cherished the times he got to see them. Dylan said it best when he said he didn't want Grandpa to be sick anymore, and no matter how much our heads tell us he's not suffering anymore, our hearts still want him here. But that't when I'd like us all to remember more words from "Tuesdays With Morrie": "Death ends a life, not a relationship."

Answer

I say goodbye because I have to and because I'm tired of being your crutch
I say goodbye because the binging and purgeing isn't so romantic anymore
I say goodbye because I can.

I miss you the way you used to be, toes curled up and contacts out
I miss your bitten fingernails and buddha belly and hairy toes
Remember accidental candles?
I miss your cookie job as the mixer
I miss antisocial cuddle sessions

Too long, I've been here too long
stayed through too much, cried for so little
The instant I say goodbye I breathe, an expansion of ribs and organs and I'm alive
You killed me very quietly, sneaky like you are
You tiptoed over my traps and sank (victorious) into my favorite chair
(you thieved that too)

I say goodbye because I want to live
without you
I say goodbye because I'm no longer obligated to say
good morning

in with the love, out with the jealousy

jealousy have swallowed me whole,
this monster is gnawing on my insides,
take every vital organ away from me
little nibbles at a time.
Oh please, please take these
suspicious thoughts from my pea brain.
i pray that you cant see the ugly green in my eyes,
i cant help the red specks on my cheeks.
you relay to me that its stupid,
quit acting like a stupid bit..
a quick slap in the face,
reality check here.
get your head on straight,
rewind that clock back to a normal state
take a deep breath with every step
in with the love, out with the jealousy

Shattered

I'm remembering the day I told you you could keep me
Looked you dead in the eye and lied that I'd stay around
I'm remebering nights of touching and holding and learning
and new
I knew I loved you
knew from the first time I heard you laugh
it spilled like sugar onto a cupcake
like ages of tape being unwound from an 8-track
and backing up to when my heart was a virgin
I was a virgin with you
I hold your face in the palms of my mind
see you in every picture at night that tricks me into thinking
you're here
lover you're here.
in that picture frame that held our lips and the fan that you left on
I smell your skin every time I curl that pillow around my wounded heart
every breath I take is stolen from a wish
a dream
when I was your victory
you were my trophy my triumph over myself
I break my fall every day with your prison bed
I set myself free so you can feel through me what it's like
to have wings
you were my first cup of home made coffee
a brand new that could never get old
a new pair of shoes that went through the washer every day just to be able to look and say
baby I knew
I knew from the first shirt you wore and the way you ran
that we had a marathon to do
I knew how to learn my curves and fit them to you
Baby.
I see your stripes and you memorized my scars
tell me a scar story
Tell me where I'm from, and howcome when I come
to you
There's butterflies and unwrapped candies and cliff divers
There's a hole
an orface in the softest part of my heart where your body used to lie
curled up that way you do and I used to fit too
I used to fit too
And show me God, tell me how you met him how he tugged on your chain
Did you give Him my best
did you remember to tell him I'm sorry for giving this time away
If I gave you my ache would you find a place in the attic to store it until winter
when the flowers are gone and I need a way to remember this day
I've been opening presents I don't want and holding hands I can't touch
speaking truths and feeling lies never ever forgetting
your eyes
your chocolate eyes
tell me why do I breathe in your tears every time I say goodbye
why do I even try to say goodbye

Remeber your face the rest of my life

I saw a girl at Barnes and Noble,
She took my breathe away for the 4th time in my life.
She said "excuse me",
It was the second conversation we'd ever had.
She introduced her self once before but I don't remeber her name,
Just the tatto of a snake across her lower back.I wonder if she knew me,
or the shocked look on my face

Since I Die Daily, Daily Mourn.

Here, on fingertips, death resides

here, the anguish doth not subside

heavy with such mystery

falsehoods of such alchemy.

Enter death, an eternal breath,

to capsize youth and end distress

fortitude be yours, O sultan,

without a wince, you bring the silence from within.

Thou art the work of holy men

with little insight from within.

An auspice thou protest

so quickly, thou must lie to rest!

Hesitate not, in mine eyes thou

art fair and generous

granting mystery to the gangrenous

and wealthy alike!

O sultan, O sultan!

deliver from this world to thine

a message for those left behind

Faustian letters do remind

of days of old.

O sultan! O sultan!

here I lie upon the zenith of death

coffins for my eternal rest;

at my behest, my arms criss-cross my chest

upon my lips, a whisper of farewell.

Goodnight princess. Goodnight, my queen.

~.

Love,

Digress.

Forget writing, i lost it

we bleed without integrety,
And induce like celebrities,
we're paying for amenities,
as their stealing our identities
The clock stops, hesitating,
debating the moments its been creatiting and displaying,
Time waits,Unsparing,
Imparing the thoughts of preparing and staring.
defeat in my feet, and the concrete that they meet.
Trying to leave but your kiss makes me weak.

Te Amo

Is it sensible that pain can clense
purge
So many mixed tantrums float through the atmosphere
Breathe in. out. in. out. 10. 10. one...two...three.....ten
Ballsy
Chip on my shoulder.
You got it babe.
Broken like my words. thoughts. feelings.
I was ready
turn and walk, no talk, no tears, no words.
people, like natural disasters, have a way of drawing observers
Change change change
NEVER
I want you how I want you
But not forever
I wish
I'd let you go on forever
pero....mi familia
por favor mi amor, no mas. por favor.
I'd paint you away, secrets are better kept

Tribute.

With haste, the kiss we taste

strewn upon this bed are we

and that is how I shall forever see

shimmering gems of brown identity

along your body run the streams of time

slowly, I trace your outline

from head to toe

your touch is enough to sew together

internal feelings I cannot eschew

I stir, I plot, I seek a view

parting of lips force one to two.

Pound at my keys,

I am your harpsichord,

sounds sharper than the sword,

upon your mantel I shall rest

and the world I detest

until, again, I can invest

in carrying out your behest.

You witch--you siren--

coaxing me into oblivion;

under your spell, I have no decision,

but pursue your passion with precision;

enchanted, I am, by your beauty and poise

alchemise a lust potion--no!

your philtre bringeth pure devotion.

Here be we,

a genius of sweet alchemy,

and a man of great cacophony.

~Hansel und Grettle.

Love,

Digress.

1812 Overture.

Here, the lines are drawn

soldiers sing the battle song

'tis not the time for turning back

upon the field, creeds shall impact.

Down the line, the orders run

blazing blades in handfuls of sun

armour shimmers between the clouds

blood weighs heavy on these boughs.

Prepared, are we and thou not be

able to respond aptly to our victory

war brought by providence

'tis mine will o'er thine dominance.

For freedom the titans fight

clad in red, blue, and white

muskets and swords for what we want

for fire gives what the pen cannot!

Steady on steeds, we fight the decree

of those who built this colony

stand ready men; do not falter

for this land is of thine father.

Clutch the hilt and be not weak

the blade, blood, it shall seek

we will collide with destiny

out of death comes our victory.

Decimate and then some more

make them feel a ruddy sore;

little mercy at the trigger

for we shall bring the fire on thicker.

And in the night we shall war too

our aim and sight be true

until our goal is reached;

our governors impeached!

~Seventeen-seventy-when?

Love,

Digress.

Howl At The Blood Moon.

I set my top-hat down

on your

bed.

I walk into the room

with a grin made

of bullets.

Heretofore, I was your

enemy;

henceforth,

I am your friend.

Now the lead

is buried.

I let robins

in your

bedroom.

I break your mirror.

Love,

Digress.

Looking Indubitable

It is good

to sit

here on

my stoop

thinking about

litigation;

listening

to the neighbourhood

settle

into the

first clam

night of

spring.

And as I

take

another swig

of

the saké,

the neighbours

return

from a birthday dinner.

They carry in

a case

of beer.

Maybe

I'll be social tonight.

~Believe me.

Love,

Digress.

Only A Coffee Shop.

Hanged.

Shot.

Ambushed.

Drowned.

This is

self-destructive

at 

least I am

teaching myself.

I'll teach

you too.

While the

world is flooded and

the people

are ambushed,

there is

little

to do

but

wait.

We will

always be

waiting to be

Drowned.

Ambushed.

Shot.

Hanged.

~Celebration City.

Love,

Digress.

You are my assasin

Walk all over me, stomp that heel and turn that *click*
Baby when you hurt me it fulfills me
It reminds me that I'm the better person because...
I'd never do half this s*** to you.
You bring out the best Christ figure I've ever seen,
a martyr....a masochist
God, what I wouldn't give to throw you into my heart, let you drown in our misery
What I wouldn't give to hear you say you're sorry.
And you love me.
I don't wanna hear her name I don't wanna see her face...next to your soul....too close
You drag me down down down with you, and I go willingly
because baby we belong together
you'll see.
One day you'll wake up and see me sleeping and realize
how much you love me, you need me
I set the dull throb to a Katy Perry song and it sooths, like hydrogen peroxide on an infection
You're like pulling out a porcupine quill
like walking through the desert in bare feet and climbing cactus
....like piercing my tongue with a safety pin, snorting fire ants, chewing tin foil
You're the worst person with the best intentions I'll ever know. God I love you.
I'm your puppet, baby....
cut my strings.

Let me tell you about my hands

They all hurt. All 8 of them. Each with to knuckles crying for an ice pack to alleviate the throbbing pain of this morning’s consciousness. I hesitate on their dying plea and make fists, assessing the extent of which I felt like my life was over last night. The blood stains leading down my right palm to my pillow case prove that he was the one that questioned my ability to feel alive last night, but clearly after he could take no more punishment his brother stepped in to take the finals blows before I passed out awkwardly on my kitchen floor. It’s euphoric to feel the pain creep up my arms to my elbows. I learned a while back that it’s easier to make excuses for broken fingers than for cuts on legs that a just a little too straight. And besides, every bump every day reminds me that for some reason I still love you more than you will ever know. I think about writing the brick walls and wooden fences a thank you note and laugh. Thank you for all the times you have been there for me. Thank you for being strong when I am weak. Thank you for never breaking down on me. It makes me happy to know that all my life cement walls will be with me to pick me up when I’m down. Realizing my fingers have nearly convinced my eyes to cry, and my mouth to scream I wearily open my freezer door. I grab the bag of frozen peas and ice pack and feel relieved as they numb my knuckles back into nothing.

why it doesnt matter whats in the glass

“He doesn’t love you.”

“Shocker.”

“Then why do you bother?”

She spun around on the stool and shrugged her shoulders. Her dispassionate eyes suited her apathetic tone. “Maybe I just do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She looked down the bar at an old man hunkered over a whiskey sour, staring hopelessly into it like he was search for something. “It’s better than nothing, that’s what it’s supposed to mean.”

“But it isn’t significant.”

“But it isn’t nothing.”

She grabbed her messenger bag and dropped a couple bills next to an empty glass, looking back down at it. “You know why that glass is empty?”

“Because it’s not half full.”

“Exactly. Something isn’t empty or half-full because it’s missing something. It’s that way because you drank it, which is better than watching it sit there staring back at you. It doesn’t matter what it’s half of if you never drink it.”

“I see.”

“No you don’t.” She said, grabbing a tattered brown jacket. “But maybe someday you will.”

Then she sauntered freely out of the bar. But that lack of weight on her shoulders was also because she had nothing to weigh her down. I didn’t know whether to pity her or applaud her.

I am more than this.

Too often I find myself huddled in an overly hushed basement, garage, backyard, caught up in a mess of vodka shots, second hand smoke, and a few puffs of something quality that everyone will hit but me. I make up for the lack of a high with a few more pulls from the handle. And soon I grab onto that oh so familiar landing. The one where I can rest my feet comfortably, although a bit wobbly. My mind is gone, so I feel safe. It's not me that's moving, speaking, thinking, so I can relax. There's no way any of you could judge me in this state. So I continue.

It usually hits me about an hour in. I need someone. I need to feel someone's presence close to my body even if it's just a messy fumbling around behind the blackened end of a bathroom door. I need someone here with me. Because I am not. Because I left myself somewhere between the liquor run and the seventh game of flip cup. So I need someone to reassure me. 

Touch me, say my name. That's all I ask of you. Remind me of who I am, who I forced myself not to be and tell me that I'm beautiful and I'm all you want. I'll eat it up with every slur of your syllables. I will take you in and drown who I think I am inside of you.

And then I wake up and feel nothing again. I am back to myself. Just a little headache that a few hours of sleep can fix. I forget my alter ego, the exuberant. I take a deep breath and realize that I wasn't myself. It was her last night, she let her guard down, she gave up her morals. Not me. I would never do that. 

But how long will it take for me to use up the last of her, and have nothing left but myself...