And then there is this
Mar. 25th, 2004 10:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kjpepperI got this from Amanda, my sister/mother/complicated relationship whom I love dearly...
She was three weeks old when I first held her
Small baby voice and brownish pink newborn glow
Lovely baby smell
Eyes barely open to the dimly lit apartment
Of my new friend Stanley
My new friend cause he needed a friend to help him
My new friend cause I could see that he was scared
That night while I held the this lightness,this wonder in my arms
He had to make a call
He was scared
A pre-med student about to drop out of a prestigious school
He had to tell his family and hear the
Shock and disappointment and anger and final acceptance
The news
About this tiny little girl, the lightness.
Tonight I just got off the phone with my old friend Stanley
Sadness, tears, grief
My days of neutrality are over
Because the tiny little girl, the lightness
Now the young beautiful creative talented intense intelligent brown maiden
Built a cold unresponsive brick wall
Messages are passed out through a small opening in this brick wall
The brick wall has some very impressive graffiti
Beautiful graffiti, painfully directed graffiti
We can't seem to get any messages passed into that small opening
No messages into that small opening about
What troubles us, worries us, or even what pleases us
Messages sent to us, when they do come out of that little opening
Stick to essentials like money and needs and gifts
Reduced to the role of automated family structure teller machines
Recipients of messages about disappointment and frustration and deep-deep-seated Anger, betrayal and non-acceptance
My days of neutrality are over
Cause my loved ones are in pain and confusion
My graffiti on your brick wall is as follows:
I pray
One day very soon
The beautiful brown girl
Will start to pick apart the bricks
Ask the questions that need to be asked and not avoided
Find her truth
Forgive my old friend Stanley
I pray
That the beautiful brown girl
Will find a friend
Who can help her make that call
To hear the news and
Forgive her seriously ill mother.
I pray that one day she will read this graffiti and
Forgive me too.
Fuck, I feel so lost right now. And what's really scary is that the forks are starting to look massively attractive.
The thing I want to do right now is go downtown to Lucky's with the character on my icon in hand and tell them to inscribe it on my skin. Not on my lower back as originally planned, but on my shoulder, where everyone, everyone who could possibly, potentially love me and give a shit about me can see it and take warning. This girl is evil. This girl will hurt you. She's hurt others, you will be no exception. And where I can see it, and I can take warning for myself to be mindful of my actions, to never unleash the power I carry, to set free the distruction and hurt that nonetheless seems to follow me wherever I go. And I will sit and relish the pain of the needle, knowing it is pain for a purpose, and will leave behind a graceful admonishment to never ever do this again. I probably won't go today, though I want to very badly.
You once told me of a tattoo you wanted, a heart with vines twined around it, vines sprouting leaves that carried the initials of everyone that's ever hurt you. Mine are a.r.b. I'm sorry.
I'm going away now.
She was three weeks old when I first held her
Small baby voice and brownish pink newborn glow
Lovely baby smell
Eyes barely open to the dimly lit apartment
Of my new friend Stanley
My new friend cause he needed a friend to help him
My new friend cause I could see that he was scared
That night while I held the this lightness,this wonder in my arms
He had to make a call
He was scared
A pre-med student about to drop out of a prestigious school
He had to tell his family and hear the
Shock and disappointment and anger and final acceptance
The news
About this tiny little girl, the lightness.
Tonight I just got off the phone with my old friend Stanley
Sadness, tears, grief
My days of neutrality are over
Because the tiny little girl, the lightness
Now the young beautiful creative talented intense intelligent brown maiden
Built a cold unresponsive brick wall
Messages are passed out through a small opening in this brick wall
The brick wall has some very impressive graffiti
Beautiful graffiti, painfully directed graffiti
We can't seem to get any messages passed into that small opening
No messages into that small opening about
What troubles us, worries us, or even what pleases us
Messages sent to us, when they do come out of that little opening
Stick to essentials like money and needs and gifts
Reduced to the role of automated family structure teller machines
Recipients of messages about disappointment and frustration and deep-deep-seated Anger, betrayal and non-acceptance
My days of neutrality are over
Cause my loved ones are in pain and confusion
My graffiti on your brick wall is as follows:
I pray
One day very soon
The beautiful brown girl
Will start to pick apart the bricks
Ask the questions that need to be asked and not avoided
Find her truth
Forgive my old friend Stanley
I pray
That the beautiful brown girl
Will find a friend
Who can help her make that call
To hear the news and
Forgive her seriously ill mother.
I pray that one day she will read this graffiti and
Forgive me too.
Fuck, I feel so lost right now. And what's really scary is that the forks are starting to look massively attractive.
The thing I want to do right now is go downtown to Lucky's with the character on my icon in hand and tell them to inscribe it on my skin. Not on my lower back as originally planned, but on my shoulder, where everyone, everyone who could possibly, potentially love me and give a shit about me can see it and take warning. This girl is evil. This girl will hurt you. She's hurt others, you will be no exception. And where I can see it, and I can take warning for myself to be mindful of my actions, to never unleash the power I carry, to set free the distruction and hurt that nonetheless seems to follow me wherever I go. And I will sit and relish the pain of the needle, knowing it is pain for a purpose, and will leave behind a graceful admonishment to never ever do this again. I probably won't go today, though I want to very badly.
You once told me of a tattoo you wanted, a heart with vines twined around it, vines sprouting leaves that carried the initials of everyone that's ever hurt you. Mine are a.r.b. I'm sorry.
I'm going away now.
