August 22, 2004 - 9:24 a.m.
smashing my way into a new kind of consciousness.
i realize that it is true..
all of it.
but none of it too.
***
So i take back the whispers,
the cute mute act,
and the high pitched giggles, yeah
i take them back,
i won�t avoid your stare, evade your step,
nothing of that kind,
won�t help you help me victimize
the only space that�s mine.
***
and then sometimes none of it matters
like when you're dancing your ass off to wicked michael jackson remixes and
the most improbably mix of danceable tunes
still
i try not to let myself get so sad about the shit i can't control
like stolen integrity
where i'd always planned to keep it pinned down
proud standing
tall and fierce
but somehow they always know
when you're just too sweet to see it coming
shaking it, off, forgetting and moving
on
and on.
living is like this.
***
yes, sometimes anger�s subtle, less rage than sad
leaking slow through spigots you didn�t know you had.
and sometimes it�s just
fuck you.
fuck you.
you see, and to me,
That�s poetry too.
(*alix olsen)
