The subject was manifestation. I think it's like learning a new word, she said. You suddenly start seeing it all over the place.
So, that is how it was tonight. I knew I would see you. The word was riot grrl, and everything was set up for this manifestation. I recognized the back of your head, the way you sat and everything that radiated from your body. Perhaps I felt the resentment like lasers from your red plugs. I was holding her, leaning into the love that has become my sweet life... and I looked up just in time to see you make a 180. Perhaps it was the whiskey; maybe it was the friendship, but everyone instantly said "wow. what was that?" For a split second I felt guilty-- like it was my fault.... like I had done something bad... But then I remembered that it was all on you-- a resentment you hold tight to... A resentment born of your own sad stories... a resentment that surely kills you slowly.
It's sad really. I know it is yours to hold, but I still feel sad about it. I watched the documentary and thought back to the 19 year old me and you. I remember driving to the coffee house, hoping to meet some goth girl.... And I remember sitting down with my super goth journal, ready to write about the sadness that was my life... I looked up to see this amazing blonde punk butch coming to take my order. Nothing was the same after that moment. If I could point to one moment that defined the rest of my life as a dyke, that would be the one. You. The punk I never expected.
Fast forward 17 years, through heroin, cocaine, crack, booze, love and heartache.... and I wonder what we have manifested.... what are we manifesting?
I want to say love. I want that to be the word I see all over the place... but then I think back to the last year and the word that comes to mind is "shut down." The words of this documentary radiate through my stories, my veins, my words, my herstory. For a split second I feel guilty-- like it was my fault... Like I had done something bad... but then I remember that it was all on her-- a sadness she holds tight to... A manifestation born of a self-fulfilling prophesy of selfishness.
Fast forward 14 months, through cutting, whiskey, random lovers, weed, love and heartache.... and I realize what I have finally started manifesting....
The subject is love. It's what I see all around me, in me, and before me, I think.
So, that is how it was tonight. I knew I would see you. The word was riot grrl, and everything was set up for this manifestation. I recognized the back of your head, the way you sat and everything that radiated from your body. Perhaps I felt the resentment like lasers from your red plugs. I was holding her, leaning into the love that has become my sweet life... and I looked up just in time to see you make a 180. Perhaps it was the whiskey; maybe it was the friendship, but everyone instantly said "wow. what was that?" For a split second I felt guilty-- like it was my fault.... like I had done something bad... But then I remembered that it was all on you-- a resentment you hold tight to... A resentment born of your own sad stories... a resentment that surely kills you slowly.
It's sad really. I know it is yours to hold, but I still feel sad about it. I watched the documentary and thought back to the 19 year old me and you. I remember driving to the coffee house, hoping to meet some goth girl.... And I remember sitting down with my super goth journal, ready to write about the sadness that was my life... I looked up to see this amazing blonde punk butch coming to take my order. Nothing was the same after that moment. If I could point to one moment that defined the rest of my life as a dyke, that would be the one. You. The punk I never expected.
Fast forward 17 years, through heroin, cocaine, crack, booze, love and heartache.... and I wonder what we have manifested.... what are we manifesting?
I want to say love. I want that to be the word I see all over the place... but then I think back to the last year and the word that comes to mind is "shut down." The words of this documentary radiate through my stories, my veins, my words, my herstory. For a split second I feel guilty-- like it was my fault... Like I had done something bad... but then I remember that it was all on her-- a sadness she holds tight to... A manifestation born of a self-fulfilling prophesy of selfishness.
Fast forward 14 months, through cutting, whiskey, random lovers, weed, love and heartache.... and I realize what I have finally started manifesting....
The subject is love. It's what I see all around me, in me, and before me, I think.
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