Shadow puppets dance
Only ten fingers on the ceiling
Regret this large bed.
I guess I finally agree.
It’s probably best you chose not to play with me,
I would have loved you.
I would have loved you even when I didn’t like you;
When you didn’t want me to.
When you didn’t love yourself.
I’d have taken care of myself, for you, and you, for me.
And I would have loved you.
I’d have listened:
to you breathing as you slept,
your thoughts when they were so deafening,
And your words quiet and loud, when you would share:
I’d have steadied your hands when they shook while you spoke,
Placed a hand upon your chest when you quietly raged about fathers and why their kids stuttersuck… all to choke down their feelings of humiliation and fear…
Kissed you upon every entry,
Every single tear,
Every single night.
Laughed in joy,
settled into rare silence,
gazed in awe,
and continued to glow
in your mere presence.
I would have. But yes…
Yes, it’s probably best you decided not to play with me.
Because I KNOW.
I would have definitely loved you.
dapples dancing through
blurred like wind
edges lost in memory
a temporal shift
the place where reasons haze
where I wanted to be
where you are
searching out my constant
382 is 1444
grasping wanting more
the fucking Witter factor…
questing for a restore point
Rose Hill? Latah? Helen Street?
half forgotten Arms of Ponderosa
seeking out the Coastline
drowning in the Fathom
the inevitableness of you
subsequent fear of losing it
an unavoidable event horizon.
“Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind”…
Always seemed like a terrible premise,
I wish I could erase it
as much as I never
ever want to forget.
As soon as I decide my memory is wrong,
it wasn’t what I thought.
I’m only remembering positive things.
I come across something proving I wasn’t.
It was real.
It is real.
It was possible for me.
Dwelling in the past.
Praying for a redo.
Scaling all against it.
How can an experience fix you
Yet break you
all at the same time?
I wish I could hate you.
Instead I hate me.
I have had quite the empowering and cathartic last couple of weeks chock full of epiphanies and cosmic 2x4s.
One, I shall not write into narrative for you voyeuristic vampires whom I love. It involves self growth and reflecting on past relationships.
But when it dawned on me, it went something like this:
Then, I read this on my FaceCrack wall:
A Wild Woman doesn’t want to be your Girly friend
Can you love me in the deep? In the dark? In the thick of it?
Can you love me when I drink from the wrong bottle and slip through the crack in the floorboard?
Can you love me when I’m bigger than you, when my presence blazes like the sun does, when it hurts to look directly at me?
Can you love me then too?
Can you love me under the starry sky, shaved and smooth, my skin like liquid moonlight?
Can you love me when I am howling and furry, standing on my haunches, my lower lip stained with the blood of my last kill?
When I call down the lightning, when the sidewalks are singed by the soles of my feet, can you still love me then?
What happens when I freeze the land, and cause the dirt to harden over all the pomegranate seeds we’ve planted?
Will you trust that Spring will return?
Will you still believe me when I tell you I will become a raging river, and spill myself upon your dreams and call them to the surface of your life?
Can you trust me, even though you cannot tame me?
Can you love me, even though I am all that you fear and admire?
Will you fear my shifting shape?
Does it frighten you, when my eyes flash like your camera does?
Do you fear they will capture your soul?
Are you afraid to step into me?
The meat-eating plants and flowers armed with poisonous darts are not in my jungle to stop you from coming. Not you.
So do not worry. They belong to me, and I have invited you here.
Stay to the path revealed in the moonlight and arrive safely to the hut of Baba Yaga: the wild old wise one… she will not lead you astray if you are pure of heart.
You cannot be with the wild one if you fear the rumbling of the ground, the roar of a cascading river, the startling clap of thunder in the sky.
If you want to be safe, go back to your tiny room — the night sky is not for you.
If you want to be torn apart, come in. Be broken open and devoured. Be set ablaze in my fire.
I will not leave you as you have come: well dressed, in finely-threaded sweaters that keep out the cold.
I will leave you naked and biting. Leave you clawing at the sheets. Leave you surrounded by owls and hawks and flowers that only bloom when no one is watching.
So, come to me, and be healed in the unbearable lightness and darkness of all that you are.
There is nothing in you that can scare me. Nothing in you I will not use to make you great.
A wild woman is not a girlfriend. She is a relationship with nature. She is the source of all your primal desires, and she is the wild whipping wind that uproots the poisonous corn stalks on your neatly tilled farm.
She will plant pear trees in the wake of your disaster.
She will see to it that you shall rise again.
She is the lover who restores you to your own wild nature.
(c) Alison Nappi 2015
The I saw this and wanted to go run. Dafuq, right?
This is all on top of a windfall at work, in my bank account, with my kids, with my love, with my friends, EVERYTHING. On top of the world and it is strange.
By an odd coincidence, this week your tattoo is getting covered up;
Under the ocean it will be.
Reflectively, my time with you was the happiest
I’d been until now, a true peace I have found, it
Eluded you I guess.
Dreamed you hadn’t died, that you were in a caved in hole but watched you climb out on the news…
That reverie, I like to think it was you coming out of your darkest place, crawling toward the light.
Honestly, I learned so much from you, practical and emotional you taught me many things.
Echoes of his six word story come to me late at night
“Bullies are just very sad people…”
Understanding of you came later,
Life and love are funny that way.
Looking back, my own ignorance was bliss…
Even the most negative memories somehow benefit from it;
The lens filter of time.
*I doubt they will play this for you, but I know you always wanted it at your service so I will post it for you here.
Love and Light.
And I thought of you today,
in a comparative fashion.
It made me feel nostalgic;
To reflect on what must have
my tertiary period;
cause that mud was so deep
It covered your brush guard and bowtie.
And I remembered everything
Things I wish I’d forgot
Things I wish I hadn’t reframed
Eidetic pictures of
Red flags I painted over
Made into romantic pirate flags
And I wonder what he smells like
Will it remind me of you
Evolution’s early warning system
These days I naturally rest around DEFCON III
(That’s just yellow these days)
And I was just recently informed
Only 2% of women recognize that color
You men, you don’t.
You go straight from blue to red
How fast depends on the green
Green like the quarter panel of your truck
With the slider I floated in and out of
Just to get you a Miller
Goat trails and water bars, right?
And I guess innocence was bliss
But this one surpasses those credentials
This one has photographic evidence
Proof that he was there
In fact, he’s already here
In ways you never could be
Not a bootleg version
Some recording you picked up or
trucks that you wrecked
like stories you retold
And I just don’t swallow anymore.
And in those thoughts, I find myself again looking at the results of particular decisions and paths that I have been feeling unsure of lately. But in this examination with the benefit of hindsight, I find that I am ok with my world right now.
*Forgive my vagueness in the forthcoming thoughts, but I really don’t want to expose anyone’s stuff on my blog.*
For example, we all (in my experience anyway) want to do things differently than our parents, whether in a huge way or a small way. Sometimes, we find ourselves as parents seeming to repeat our parent’s mistakes or even doing things “worse” in our perception. But after a crisis, with the added layer of experience and evolution of thought we sometimes can look at something we think we were doing wrong and realize we did it right. We just didn’t know it then. Perhaps something that your parent did and exposed you to, allowed to happen, taught you to teach your children something different that people found particularly developmentally inappropriate, something kids should not be exposed to in order to save their innocence of thoughts. But because you taught them, because you told them something earlier than the experts suggest: you taught them to address a problem rather than to hide it and allow it to permeate their childlike minds.
Perhaps in another situation, what you felt you were teaching your children was to be compliant and to be passive aggressive, and called it “choosing your battles” like your mother taught you….But what you were really teaching your children was to maintain and be strong until they had the proper fortifications to change their own path.
And yet in another, maybe you thought you were giving your child an easier path, teaching them nothing but to look for an easy way out or to depend on others to do “it” for them, but really, you were teaching them that there is no set way to do things and there is NOTHING wrong with doing things different from the masses and asking for help to do it since there are no directions for this method. This is the very definition of change.
In fact, nothing has ever changed in this world for the better without someone doing something outside the “norm.” Take heart people who are movers, shakers, boat rockers and/or parents: You are probably not messing up. 😉 You are simply doing something different, which is scary. BUT not necessarily wrong. Take faith that in the future you will understand the choices you make today and the path they lead you down tomorrow. You are cutting a path for others. Embrace your machete.