You're Goddamn Haunted

I hate to say it that way. But you're goddamn haunted. You smell like the most beautiful tears of blood and you smile like a broken chandelier all goldish and glittering but too jangled up. You move like a rhinocerous sometimes like a heady heaving robot but with a swiftness to your shoulders that makes me wonder about your sadness. You broke inside of me before, in my heart, you closed the door, but you really sting now like a wistful diary or a graveyard full of spilled roses and banshees. You chalked up the last eight years to madness and then you just blew up into your own hurricane propelling and projectile sadness. You're goddamn haunted the way your hands scrape the teeth of the air and the back neckline of your hair bends and then falls down timber to the barren stripe of your back. And you feel like an old rope that is worn over the edge of the ship about to break but biting hard right now, never willing to give in to a thought LIKE THAT. Like you might break, like you already broke, like your beauty is all that's left in your paydirt world and then tables upturned bereft in your ghost house you split! And you rock. You rock like a teenager on too many drugs and needles and sex and feeble attempts to get crazy and be crazy and then you win. You better start thinking about this sinking that is happening. Because you're so goddamn haunted that some kind of portal poltergeist is going to come volcano-like out of THAT. And you got so much more to give so much more to live and you don't want to scare off the little kids, do you? Do you? Aren't you just that anyway? You lovely, you never, you please live and breathe you. You are goddamn haunted and once upon a time I wanted in that shack of fluttering spirits. But I think i can taste how haunted you are now from perfectly where I stand, and that is just plenty for me, I have done already seen haunted before, and even more than you know, and so I am NOT GONNA GO. I am going to stick to this living room. I am going to love my candy and my broom. I am going to kiss heaven and hold skin and love my velvet bed and my cat. I am going to go now, love. You will forever be in the heart of me.

The New York Lonely Times

It is Fall summer day. Like coats and tank tops, shorts and wool socks. By nighttime I am freezing my patootie off. By day, dress me up in sundresses and scores of sunglasses, jewels, cold medicines. Ranges of weather like this cause everyone to get sick. So I take 5,ooo miligrams of Vitamin C, and I wander the streets alone with my doses of Echinacea Goldenseal Yin Ciao formulas brewing lonely spells of weakness in my belly. I am trying to be strong, I tell them. I am trying my god damn strongest to be strong, but instead, I fall into bed at night bewildered and anxious about God, Jesus, Buddha, Beezelbub and all other archetypal figures that will haunt me. I pray now alot, with sweet words to pathetically beg for help in lonesomeness, "please god, where are the friends who would understand me and want to live NEAR to me, to come to my house EVERY SINGLE night and get drunk with either beer or love and run through the wilderness and jump into foamy ocean tides at midnight? I know my little brother, twelve years younger, is one of them, but where are the rest? I am still that same age as him really, 18, and wild and not changed by any bouts of jadedness and I just want to stare at the moon and sing songs out loud and climb to places where the policemen wouldn't like. Dearest God, I know you'd understand the good intent behind my wildness. Gratitude of everthing!" I also thank God- him/her- for the family I came here into, the wild romantic talented CRAZY family of actors and writers and dreamers that we are. My grandfather was diagnosed Schizophrenic you know, and so I think we get tinges of the voices in our heads, but still I am a true love.
And yet, here I remain, wandering alone. Realizing maybe quite importantly that any friends I ever leave behind are just as available to me as the next circle of friends. That not any particular group is going to love me any more than the last realm, and that they are all busy now, and have their own issues and forget about those adventures I MUST HAVE in my life. So I dream about them, all the characters, and when I get one note or one phone call, JUST ONE EVEN, that chimes in on the passion I crave, I am 1,000 times lighter! Today, in the midst of my double espresso americano I received ONE. How can one tiny note change your day? I was a zombie in the minutes and hours before. But one message, this ONE message, just a trinket really, just a drop-a- line, inspired me about more shows and www.gypsytownmusic.com, and all my talented friends, and future travels, and beautiful people who are kind to each other. Thank You. I guess a portion of my prayers answered. And so I realize, I cannot escape myself. I may move to new homes over and over, but myself there I remain. And lonely, and so Hopeful and optimistic that someday I will never ever be lonely the way I have had to be lonely this year. That I will know everyone in the whole world practically, or at least, they will know me. And we will all have wine or tea and fun and singing together whenever possible!