and so

i am not sure how i feel about the readings the other night. two of the actors did an amazing job performing three of my pieces. however, the performance of the final piece i had submitted, almost brought me to tears i was so angry with how it was done. i guess the one good thing is that i've come to the agreement that i need to be reading my own work so that people can hear my words how i meant for them to be heard.
lately i have been feeling split. like i am only living a half-lived life. the other half just drags behind me, unexplored, like peter pan's shadow sewn to his shoe. i need to stop grasping onto what the shoulds say and start taking what is wanted. reality needs to come home so i can stop living in what never was.

written 5.24.09:

company lost at the amputation
the drawer knob
next to the blue postage stamp
i cry into its corner
and close it on the sprout
i eat you in two bites
no need for the process of mastication
masturbation
like eggs sunny side up
where the whistles
become wall paper
and the man slides
his head through the gate
and coughs the gravel back
into the cement foot holes
under my carpet
laid by the woman
while girls cradled lost arms
and bookends creep away
her despair smelled like exhaust.