some words

"i could fucking die tomorrow...

fuck that

fuck you

fuck it all

i'm so pissed

not about the dying part, cause the point is it can happen
and that would be the canned laughter to this joke of a life...

hardy har har

grass greener there
grass green here
my damn grass is green, soft, roly poly nap grass
i love my field but i don't like your fence on it
er...or maybe it's not yours maybe it's mine
maybe i'm a time bomb
ticking
imagining fences and walls and gates
that are not there.
oh rules...i hate you
you and me have been butting heads since day one
i test you
and people cry.there is this polaroid that
i want to crawl into
when i look at it i can smell the room
hear the conversation
remember that feeling-
thatfreedomyoudidntknowuntilyoudidnthaveit
- i have spent the last fucking years
trying to lasso-
bucking bronco bucking me off
the more i resist
the more i get tossed...


man that's just it though -
i don't know
i
don't
know because the book hasn't been written yet.
the damn thing hasn't been written...
i keep forgetting that...
books, movies, songs, paintings
we've seen so many endings we forget we can write our own..
each and every day...
each and every day! get that- that is fucking amazing!"
my blue suitcase,
waiting patiently...
it's funny what you pack when you don't know
where you're going...
if you're going...

what if i leave
sit on the bed of a hotel room
watch television, drink a bottle of wine, eat my favorite food
cry hysterically, laugh hysterically, dance on the bed, braid my bangs, smile about what i wanna go do
make a list about what i wanna go do
wait

and realize

it was all me...
(cause you can't leave that behind)
  ~michelle

some words

I walk the line

soaked in thoughts...
scattered candy wrappers, chocolate taste still on my tongue.
i watch the returning cardinal - skittish-
my feet feel quiet and still
i await the drying out of
clarity.

"what?" i ask reaching for my voice.
i sound so far away.
"sorry, yes i'm listening"
i am far away. i don't even know where i am.
"no, i'm just watching the birds at the feeder"
my fingers are white and cold. i run them through my hair.
it's been awhile since i've fixed it. since i've felt i needed to.
"i think i'll go lie down for awhile and read"

i know today is this. i know tomorrow it won't be this.
and i know that a time from now it will be this again.
it always is. this, then that, then this again.

always on this line
sometimes i can run on it so it blurs
sometimes my knees are shaky and i'm scared
sometimes i wanna get down on one side
but
its never the right time -or- the right place
-or- the right me.
i have a map though and if i am reading it right
there is a place on this line where i have to get off
 ~michelle

some words

down the dark, wet, slippery streets I drove...
it was late
underbelly late

as I turned onto the main street
I saw a man
yellow, curly hair popping and twisting in the glistening, spitting air...
on a bike no less, acting like it's nothing

>>>--->damp, stinky cigarette flapping from his bottom lip
white pillow case giggling with goodies thrown cross his shoulder
one hand on the handlebars<---<<<

this is "it"
i said aloud
this is where i always wanna be
on the underside of rocks 
  ~michelle

some words

" My words pushed through her head, then crept across her eyes.
She didn't have to speak. I knew what she was thinking. Sick with silence my mind became a volley of words, tossing back and forth until one fell, then I spoke again.

What I said, I cannot recall, it was spewed out and empty- she knew this.
She was just as ready as I to be done with this conversation.
I turned and walked away, knowing that this moment would never be spoken of again.I crumpled, and tossed it to the ground, my shoulders lifting and falling into the rhythm of my step."
  ~michelle