dominicvineoftheowls (dominicvine) wrote,


I move slow
I'm aware
I have become more cryptic

when I go to see my friend
there are storm clouds around me
of all the things I don't want to talk about
he doesn't want to hear it
and doesn't ask
he keeps his windows open
but does not make direct eye contact

there is rippling water between us

we walk quietly
holding our breath

I try
I make a loose effort
the best I can
wanting only to run away
knowing there is no Away
so trying to stay

stay in distance

in my attempts
I scream to myself
smack my face against my hands
and stomp my feet on the floor

while making measurements
proof of past psychic bonds make themselves evident
as I knew they always were
always are

there is no separation

I give up
realizing my attempt was faulty
he agrees
and sets about to make something better

I am aware:
Night vs Day
Talking vs Doing


opposites attract
squares lock together

he says I did it
though I only watched
making a stupid task difficult
keeping it interesting

is that my skill?

we walk
with fury
through the masses

get some food
he says
I should take that vacation anyway
(image of Richard's dying lover with oxygen tubes up his nose)
Take That Vacation Anyway

I'm filled with hate and frustration
it's novel for me
-feeling so offended-
I cradle it there
I don't want him involved

I think about friends who challenge
and am in agreement in concept
but challenge is different than
projecting shit all over you

I don't understand
and am unwilling to believe I'm as faulty as I've been described

I dismiss my friend
let myself indulge in rage for a moment

then distraction

I imagine
is that all addiction is?
indulging in distraction?
choosing, repeatedly, not to be present?
does it matter if it's sex or drugs or blogs or games?

another friend arrives
he's on another plane
we go to sit through a farce
and laugh our asses off

oh, life
thank you for the well modeled distraction


the night offers tongue
and beer
we talk
walk through the night

I outline it all:
what damages me most is graceless loving
I want to love without forgetting who we are
(or "please destroy me". . . which is it?)
it is in expecting the lover to do or be other than they are that makes my weak heart snap shut
cutting out all light and consciousness for days. . . weeks. . . months. . .

any of us would die in the dark

here's a mystery:
what saves me?

how do I stay alive. . .
Tom, How do I Keep My Heart Open In Hell?


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