Shams' Muse

i keep pulling at this string that is a stitch holding together two otherwise gaping sides of my flesh in my mouth, the raw wound between. with my tongue, i pull at it and touch it tapper sur les nerfs, en francais. everyday, in my heart tapper sur les nerfs.

in dreams i can break free and you can hurt me by writing a sign that says: Go away.

my identity is so much a me that I am floored you have the same name.

a sad eyed lobster in the tank is waving its banded claws at me, flagging my attention. Save me, he says, save me. I turn away. I am so sick. All these packages of flesh and bone, as I am a package of flesh and bone. I walked along the streets in the snow which is now up to my ankles, and black fish are swimming in my blood. How will I make it through the last half of my life, I am afraid. I am afraid to be alone now. I am afraid of my future. I am going to live to the end of my days and will have done nothing to last beyond myself. They say that a teacher can never know just how long he matters. But I do not worry about my posterity as a teacher. I worry about my life as a strand of DNA. Am I to be the last of the great line that made me?

what is it with boys? boys who like girls. this is the boys i know. rachel, rachel, rachel. and i am ho hum staring into the galactic space, who are you? they go rachel rachel rachel. and i am ho hum what was your name? did we talk about that... oh now i remember. yes i remember now. and then they swim in my blood like a virus and i wake up one day sweating and shaking with some kind of desire for the boy who poked and prodded me to some kind of attention. Yes, what is it with boys? the day i notice them is the day they yank my hair and push me away, push me down, push me to the dirt. and then i follow them arms outstretched begging and crying for their attention now that i don't have it.

Come on baby Finish what you started says the song and me too. Come on baby. Come on and finish me.

feelings are like nuclear waste. there was a reaction that created them and they glowed colors unseen, unknown, eye candy. But then the decay begins. Bit by bit, the glow fades as the feelings turn into a grey, lifeless, dangerous mass. Causing irreperable damage at some cellular level in my brain circuitry. When I think of you, I think joy, then pain. When I think of you, I think joy, then pain. When I think of you. Nuclear waste does not go away by will. It goes away through time, as it decays into something else, or dissipates into nothingness. And so with you, and so with my feelings.

I thought I liked gertrude stein her poem was so creative so clever and then it went on too long.

i tried so hard so hard i tried what was it with you? did i do something? did i steal your thunder break your heart kick your knees out from under you douse your fire ash in your drink kiss your best friend lie to your face piss on your lawn? Whatever did I do to you short of be nice and nicer nicer and nicer and nicer and nicer until I had softened completely and I understood that this punch to the face was you punching you and I could be even nicer by standing in your shoes and taking the blow.

song is in my head again and again don't know what you mean in these words but i'm pretty sure that you're singing a song i understood really well a few months ago. is it the melody or the beat or the bass? i don't know, but it pins me, pins my mood. so here's what i think you mean. i'm going to tell you what you mean. nothing you can do about that.

I am starting to see the truth like a tiny flame in a dim room, and its making everything slightly yellow and brown. Better than black and grey. I'm seeing what I didn't see, sharp corners and all the tacks on the floor I've been stepping on and screaming. You aren't the person I want you to be. I painted you so beautifully in my mind, and gave you a medal of honor, a badge on your chest that could reflect my own eyes back in copper. I've got copper eyes If I think back hard, I sat alone a lot and waited. Maybe it was only good the first time and the second. Only logarithmycally did three become nine.

i can not believe that you bucked the trend and did not call me as everyone said you would. everyone said you would be back. i think i put my faith in that, because it let me go forward into my future, and was some kind of secret security, that no matter what future i had, i would get a chance to revisit what was left undone. or, if not undone, what was left me bleeding. haunted by what we never finished, i guess i did those things alone and you were a dull blip on the radar, not so important anymore. until you decided to slam shut one more door.

i've got something worse than swine flu, seems I can't get rid of you. I'm infected with something in my heart, haven't forgotten your hands in my hair, on my back. I'd rather be sick and done with it a week later, puke my guts out in a bucket on the floor, and smell and sweat and stew in my own miseries for a week of hot and cold sweats, feeling lonely. It'd be over after a week, maybe two, and I'd rise from bed a little bit frail, pale, frazzled. It's so much better to be really sick than to have this disease. I need some kind of cure to get you off my mind. Do they have a shot for that kind of thing?

teach me teacher teach me anything. i can't teach you what you will need to know i don't know what you will need or what you will know. the world will not be the same now, ever again the world is so tilted, so introverted that i can't listen to the sounds of birds can't listen to the sounds of the creatures beneath the ground. those were the old ways of seeing and no one cares for that these days.