nobody knows

at a red light a plastic bag gets
caught on your
heel
an extra accessory
some man, a blue sweatsuit and
powdered doughnut face
asks, "hey, hey
am i good looking enough
to be with you?"

but you keep walking, dragging
the plastic bag
and worrying
about how your hair smells and if
you'll be late
to work

The bag wondering
if it will go home
again, and never
the answer
" it's stuck."
she said, reached down and scraped it
off
and again
wet
it touched me
my hands, sopping liquor, dirt -

too grimy to talk about, but
we do
we can't help it, that feeling of fingernails filled
with earth
and girls cant keep secrets, don't you know
its just darkness
and doorknobs and
"is this his room?"
between bathrobes and bad
religion

collaboration
gt & wb

other lovers

I was the blonde, hoping for a
hard revolution
just watching the band
on friday night

most things wont come to those
who wait
in the town of forsaken angels
7/11 is the only thing
we can rely on

they shared a cab tonight
the driver blasted adele
and they frisked each other in the backseat
while remembering old
lover's
names

(please don't run away
little bear
this mornings water brushed seascape skies
are miles away
la vida sin ti )

everyone's
looking for something
stained lips, fat tips
wine & peanut butter cups
trace
flower imprinted thighs like
tired lace

suddenly you're moving in
the questions of how to shelve
our pasts
a bass plugs, plughs, plughns from a neighbors
studio, he and his girlfriend
sharing separate beds

here,
it gets so that
song lines, or random book recommendations
from strangers
are the closest things you get
to love

clutch

i wonder about you out in the world. if youre alright. what youre doing and how youre smiling and who's making you and just mostly, if youre smiling, if youre happy. if youre lonely. if youre still happier being alone. im sure you are. youve been solitary since you were born and you never needed anyone, even if they have slipped in and convinced you at times you do. you are a loner, a lone wolf, just like your daddy, nomading and when others open theirs you pull down metal gates, a waterfall of steel, to close off that sweet heart. i hope you have been able to forgive people. to forgive yourself for the choices weve made. the ones you had control over and the ones you didnt.

there are two kinds of choices, you know. the one the chooser makes and the one the chooser affects. choices can be done to someone, an assault. and then. they cant be undone. we make excuses, we plead i had no choice and mean it. i didnt know what else to do, and these are valid. sometimes life shoves us up in a corner and we have to box our way out, fists flying.

i never wish i hadnt met you though, sweet ness. i never wish you hadnt been born or pretend that i havent adored your smile since that first time. i remember that morning i met you, that room shook with love and i felt like, at that time i wouldve done anything to protect you, your soul so pure, so surprised. i wanted you to look at me like that forever. a nocturnal gaze. im sorry i let you down, there were times i never called and i spent a lot more time thinking about how i felt about you than telling you. and im sorry about that cause im sure it would have felt good to know. i hope youre getting everything you wanted. that youre cared for and careful and learn to let the world show you who you can be, let people love you, trust yourself so you can trust others. its the sweetest feeling in the world. i know your home hasnt always felt safe for you, so mostly, lovely child, i hope you find a home. in yourself. in your friends. i hope its strong and sturdy and warm and filled with flowers, open breezy windows and laughter, a pool out back, maybe a library. or whatever you want. because its dawning on me now that maybe thats not what youd want, maybe youre a different person now. one i dont know. so whatever you want. i hope you make a life thats all yours.

in the future, we'll meet on a street corner and i think (obsess) about what will happen. of how you will see me, of what we will talk about, of how i can talk to you without the first words being im sorry. or yours being why.

and i dont know. maybe its better this way. a giant tree in the middle of my backyard brain that i cant get to the highest branch to see neighboring towns, the future. i cant see what happens from the top. im down here, picking apples, shaking blossoms. maybe its better baby, that i dont know you anymore. that my mess isnt making your mess messier. i had such great plans for this, for the person i wanted to be for you and it just didnt work out, somethings dont, i know you know better than most about that. for now i am okay with the not knowing, because knowing is missing and wanting to change things that we just cant. i know the difference now. and besides, ive boxed you up ages ago, as im sure you have with me and all the old things i bought you and you tired of, so quickly. vow to be better, promise to love yourself, learn to forgive me and even on those nasty nights youll have alone at some bar in some future town talking with your friends, shaking your head, know that it gets better, that no one meant for it to fall apart, and that you always have a choice.

do the work

LA isnt as sad as i remember it.

walking the streets at night, stumbling against brick walls, fibers of sweaters getting caught on rusted lamp posts, jumping off curbs, avoiding strange pools of water leftover from last weeks rain.

it wouldnt be LA if there werent rivers of water full of unknown debris, she says, the santa monica pier in the distance, hair in her eyes, sun too bright, too high above us for it to be any sort of golden hour. whats wrong buddy, she asks, arm around my waist and mine around her shoulders. i cant put it into words, i tell her, i dont know, i say, and its one of those things you cant put your finger on, mercury under fingertip, it keeps slipping away.

that last time in LA we were all still drinking and we went out to a warehouse party and watched the sun come up and drove drunk and rode the freeways and skylines and ate tacos and dressed too tight, too black and swore a lot and so some things are still the same, at least, not everything has changed. t and j and i had drove down in the truck, smoking cigarettes and stayed at some boys house behind a strip club on sunset and i see things sometimes, now, that i remember from that trip, that house in the hills we had gone to and laid in a treehouse in the sun, all of us together, our arms resting against one another, quiet, happy. it was the first time i fell in love with LA. i had been sad then, in my life, and LA had made me happy, i was looking for something and it happened, i remember going back to the city and things feeling different, brighter.

but its just me now. i have that lonely feeling i cant shake, but that only i can change. i dont want to get lost here, without my sister or anyone to pull me back up. i came here for a reason but its becoming less and less clear what that was. i thought i was following my heart but i should know better than that by now.

in the mirror now, above the sink, i look at my face, but try not to for too long, there are things i dont recognize and dont remember moving, happening, something has settled above my brow, a finality, its almost as if i have resigned that this is my life. i have stopped struggling, i have stopped fighting, that part of me, that part that felt fiery, is fading.

dont get me wrong, there are more magical days here than not. but not even santa monica, venice or the pacific ocean yesterday could cool me. not even the water or the air, that smell that i love could make me feel better. yoga helped, good food helps, laughing with mia was great, and the thought of you, out there, making beautiful things makes me feel connected somehow, keeps me productive but somethings gotta change around here. theres got to be more to it than early summer and tea and cigarettes. theres got to be more here, i keep thinking, we've got to push harder, get more serious, be more bold.

and by we, i mean, me.

i once said LA was a sad place, and i didnt mean it. i was just a sad girl, and every city has its dark side, every grey day has its comfort in covers. i can be brighter than this place, i can work harder than i have before. i can make this city mine. i have all the right tools.

know that i would do anything for you

read old posts. remember how good it was.

jarr tells me ill have that again. my mom says, while watching sound of music on christmas, i want that for you girls, that kind of love, and i lose it, i completely bawl.

i dont think ill ever have it again. and thats okay, right?

i tell jarr, when people say its better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all...theyre wrong. if you have that love, and lose it, there is nothing that can happen to make it better. youve known love, and that kind of love doesnt come around again.

lose your love

i havent written in weeks, not since ive been home. everything has distracted and overwhelmed and overstimulated and when i go to write anything it comes out some mess of emotion and i just start crying, kind of like im doing now, cause youre not here and it just doesnt make sense.

ive never been here before.

ive never, never, even those lonely months in san francisco, those weeks, months, those times id call people and think, if i get another voicemail im totally going to lose it, if i have to spend another night driving around with no where to go, no one to call, no money, that feeling of failing ( except that i had you), i never felt so out of place, out of sorts. nothing has made as little sense as it does right now.

i belong nowhere right now. i am aimless, wandering, i have so many options its frightening, as much as i tell myself this is all temporary i cant help feeling completely lost and out of control. the new year hits and i try not to think about it. i try not to think about what this year has been, what has happened, what it has changed in me. i try not to think about all the promises i made last new years, how different it all was, how last year i was in love and smiling so hard and thinking, this is it, it doesnt get better than this.
i run the streets of san francisco but everything feels dead here. everyone looks the same and i want to say that everything feels the same, because in a sense it does, nothing has changed, except that its all different; my friends are all gone, i dont have an apartment here, the other night i literally leave the hemlock and give him our old address before i remember i dont live there anymore, were not together anymore. i tell jarr as we get serious (and im afraid, cause we dont do this much), when i left, we were all here; ames, jo, liv, us, i was in the best relationship of my life. and i come back, and those people are gone, that relationship doesnt exist. its as small as the liquor store guy on geary saying long time no see, where have you guys been, did you move? and i smile, laugh, as i leave, no, i moved, he moved, its not us anymore. its just me. he seems sad about it, sad that things changed, i pat him on the back and say, dont worry, ill be alright.
this city, its not mine, its not ours, we dont live here anymore and thats been completely earth shattering for me. i cant live in sf again, not now, i dont know if i can live here ever, i dont know if this place will ever be safe for me.
i talk to r, a boy from home, that had driven me back to my grandmas house and sat outside it drinking icees with me at 2am and i told him that san francisco felt like regressing, and we hadnt even talked in years, maybe 5, maybe since high school and he just looked at me, across the front seat, heater blasting, and said, exactly, regressing, you cant go back there, it doesnt make sense to you there anymore. and i had barely told him anything about it, hadnt told him about the relationship ending and i dont want to use that as an excuse, because ultimately its not just that. its..
well, its me. its me now. its just me. and i dont fit here anymore. i want to make something for myself on my own and i cant do that here. on any given block i run into our old life and i have to get out of it, grow over it, move on. being back has changed me too. its reminded me why i left and let me know that what i thought i was coming back to isnt a city or a person or a life, its options, opportunities, beginnings.
its the scariest/saddest night of my life. im back in the states, something i had wanted for so long and im alone, im more lonely than i had felt in south america, thousands of miles away. its the only thing that feels normal. missing you is beginning to feel normal. being without you is starting to feel normal. its like i had to come home to understand. its like coming home was understanding its time to make a new home.

youve come full circle and now youre free

ive made the separation, he says, laying next to me in bed, his chest against my side, one hand holding mine and i feel defeated because this means im lagging behind, i havent fully separated and i thought i had. im surprised its so easy to hear him say.

if i had i would have made my flight back to santiago. i wouldnt be here thinking this was something to fight for, id have realized there was no longer a struggle, no longer a fight.

he says, we need to have a serious talk about this, words no one wants to hear and i can feel him in the darkness, brace himself, exhausted, (hes thought something through for once), im sorry im being so blunt, he continues, his hands still holding mine, but i stop him, remind him, this is how it has to be now, you have to say what you mean, i just dont know how you can mean it when you say it that way.

i dont cry for long or very hard, just tears that make a quick escape and are gone, wiped clean and absorbed into his sheets which smell heavily slept in but not just by him and its unnerving.

you still taste like beeswax, he had said, smiling, (my heart breaking) over drinks at the corner bar we had gone to my last night in BA back in april, what i didnt know would be our last night together, and i cant help think of when we used to smell like that, our kisses. the tin of burts bees he had given me on the ride to the airport in february, 7am and raining, youll need this, he had said. and i had, i used it all the time and it never seemed to get empty, to disappear, and i used to think it was magic, like us, filling up and keeping me safe.
when we broke up i set it in the sun on my desk, in the window, let it get buried in my abalone shell under jewelry and coins from all over south america. i tried to forget about it, about him, that smell, i let it go rotten in the sun and somehow that seemed appropriate too.

i finally got to touch you. something i have been thinking about for months, wanted to do so badly some nights my own skin ached and i scratched at my arms and struggled with the sheets and sweat your name in tiny beads down my back. i felt for the first time what it was to long for someone, my body felt that word for months. so many days i thought of what it would be like to see you and then there you were and it hurt to be near you. stomach churning, skin pricked up, eyes burning everytime they met yours, not longer than a few seconds at a time. it hurt to be near you, that was all i had thought about and now i just wanted to run. run. run.

my last day in buenos aires, i go to the zoo and holucaust museum while i wait for my bus back to santiago, the only two things i can think of that are more depressing than leaving my ex boy on the streets of a city we were last in together when we were still in love. i try to get distracted, feel sorry for the animals, try really hard to feel upset at the pictures of people, entire families, with such looks of desperation but i cant and i feel selfish which makes it all worse. i sit in the botanical gardens by myself and cry, big gasping hollow loud sobs until my chest aches, people stare and i just keep taking pictures of cats.

how is this my life, i keep asking myself? how did it all go away so fast? is the question i couldnt bring myself to ask. how did it just slip away?
i know i couldnt have done anything differently although i sure whould have tried if i knew, if i thought it would have made a difference or change his mind. its hard to tell its the end until it is, and then its just the end and its terribly sad.


the last night you had put a pillow on my lap, layed your head on it and slept. i ran my fingers through your hair, which is long now, longer than ive ever seen it, and i pressed my palm over your forehead, scratched your neck, massaged your temples and it was such a small, seemingly insignificant thing but it was so meaningful to me. how many nights had we layed there, just like that, how much did i love to touch you, to watch you sleep and smile and curl up closer to me. the ease in which two people who really know each other can just be, just be with each other is enough to break me. i pulled my hand back and went back to my book. you only stirred slightly before falling back to sleep and i didnt touch you again until morning.


i leave him again on some street corner in buenos aires but its so very different this time. i dont cry because im so desperately sad without him, or because i dont want to leave, or because i cant wait to see him again, because i love him so much i cant stand to be apart, or because i think what we have is so special and amazing and i cant live without it. i cry because i know it will be the last time i do this, the last time i leave him in BA, that this is where that love stays. i walk away and i turn myself off, my heart just snaps shut and everything inside of me changes.

i'll never forget anything, hes telling me, hands on each of my shoulders and the wind whips around my face and im grateful for sunglasses and the street traffic distraction as he searches for something better to say and there is nothing, its so terrible, were just memories now, were just old apartments and kisses and promises and stories well tell to other people. things well always remember but never feel again, things, that after time, just become things, spaces to be filled up by new memories, new people and so many things well most likely forget and it seems its already begun.

you used to say forever, remember that?