Pseudo-Poetry

So...I've been writing what I'm calling poems? with a question mark and I've got a whole bunch of them and I'm not entirely sure what to do with them.  I'm planning a video thing that will incorporate some of them, but I'm still figuring out the logistics of that, so in the meantime, I feel compelled to post a bunch of them just to get them out of the obscenely long word document I've been keeping.  Here goes! 

I don’t want you

To ever

Read

These poems.

Or maybe I do. 
_____

I heard from Sascha

That you broke your collarbone again.

It made me think of how fragile you are. 
_____

Sometimes I’m surprised

When things happen to you

And I don’t feel them. 
_____ 

I fall for people easily:

Premature infatuation. 
_____

Sometimes,

The ease with which

I could touch you

Terrifies me.

The almost imaginary quality

Of the air

That separates

Our bodies—

Space

So easily collapsed,

Boundaries

So easily broken.

I can look at the stubble on your cheek

And imagine how it would feel against my skin

So vividly

That it shocks me. 
_____

I flirt because I’m ambivalent.

I’m not convinced yet

That I can trust you,

And I’m not sure

I ever will be.

I was flirting with you then

Because I wanted to make you squirm.

I wanted you to feel

As exposed

As I felt. 
_____

After we’d finished talking,

You lingered.

You gave me this look.

And there was nothing left to say,

Because we’d already said goodbye,

But still

You looked at me

In that heavy silence.

Fuck Peter,

That look still haunts me. 
_____

You think you’re a feminist because you make an 
Extra special effort to integrate

Female Artists

Into your lectures,

Because you recognize that the works of

Male Artists

Have historically been prioritized above those of

Female Artists,

Because you studied under…who was it?  Linda Nochlin?

Whatever dude,

You are hardcore perpetuating patriarchal power dynamics with your Gaze

Regardless of your supposed

Enlightened status.

I do get a twisted satisfaction though

From the knowledge that you Gaze at me.

You,

Watching

Me,

Watching

You--

It has a certain appeal.

I guess probably because it feels,

At first,

Like I have some power over you.

It feels fun

For that stretch of time

When it seems like that could be how it is.

But then something changes

And I remember that it’s not. 
_____

Why can’t I stop wondering about you

And the nature of your sleaziness?  
_____

You don’t fool me.

I see right through you. 
_____

Whatever.

I’m over it.

Mostly. 
_____

I’m a terrible liar

Unless I’m lying

To myself
_____

I’m not very good at

Being vulnerable

Unless

I convince myself that it’s

For

Art
_____
Maybe I’m exaggerating

My own potential

Significance. 
_____ 

It feels arrogant to call myself an artist,

But what the fuck else could I be? 
_____

I am just a person

Who has to externalize

The complicated mess

Inside me. 
_____

I read somewhere

That when we cry,

Our body

Releases toxins

Through our tears,

Resulting in a feeling of relief and calm.

I suppose

These words

That pour out of me

Serve a similar purpose. 
_____ 

Maybe these words have

Power

Maybe these words have

Meaning.

Maybe, because they come from me,

I have power, and

I have meaning. 
_____

Maybe these are just thoughts

But thoughts

Don’t seem like

Enough. 
_____

What

Is

Enough? 
_____

Sometimes

Words,

Images,

Ideas—

They all seem so weak.

I seem so weak.

The things I create are weak

Because I am weak. 

Or maybe

The things I create

Are strong,

Stronger than me

Because they are my weaknesses 
Transformed 
Into something that might endure. 
_____

Maybe you’re weak too,

Only you lack

The transformative impulse 

That could redeem you 
_____

I take

The fact that

Your scanned PDFs

Include the black space around each page

As indicative of

Your inconsiderate

And careless

Nature.

You lack a sense of

Aesthetic care

And practical decency.

You are a colossal disappointment. 
_____

This is about more than you.

It’s about my agency,

My power

To transform 
_____

You keep telling me

It’s not all about me,

But this has nothing to do with you.

Maybe you’re the selfish one

Because you wish it did. 
_____

You say I’m “so intense,”

And you say it like intensity

Is a bad thing,

Like I should be striving

To be dull

Like you 
_____

A friend once told me,

“I can never tell if you’re having a good time.

You always look like you wish you were somewhere else,”

And I felt bad

Because I knew it was true.

Someone else once wrote about me,

“Her enthusiasm is matched only by her skepticism,”

And I felt good

Because I knew it was true. 
_____ 

I’m so sick of waiting

For you to understand me,

For you to realize

That I’m worth

Being proud of.

Why should I need you

Of all people

To tell me that I’m worthy? 
_____

Maybe I’m nothing. 
But being nothing

Gives me the freedom

To do anything.

Maybe I don’t need you 

To understand me.

Or maybe I do. 

Maybe this is too

“Self-indulgent” to have 

“Universal” appeal.

Maybe I don’t give a shit.

But I do give a shit.

I’d like not to,

Because not giving a shit

Would also give me 

Freedom.

In an ideal world,

I would be nothing

And I wouldn’t give a shit,

And I would be absolutely

Free. 

But I do care

And I don't want to be nothing

And I do need you

To understand me. 
_____

If I stop caring what other people think

I’m left with my own thoughts and feelings to guide me

And those don’t seem right either. 
_____ 

I am

What you made me

I am 

What I make myself

Distraught

On both counts 
_____

Fuck these thoughts!

Fuck these feelings!

I’m so fucking sick

Of thinking

And feeling! 
_____ 

Can you hear

Your brain

Clicking

On

And off?

Scanning through thoughts,

Like records in a juke box?

‘Here’s one I’ll entertain.

Select.

Slowly set into place with a click.

Play.’ 
_____ 

I want everything

And nothing.

It’s hard to distinguish

Between want

And need. 
_____ 

I don’t know what

You

Want from

Me.

I don’t know what

I

Want from

Me. 
_____

I don’t just want you to take care of me.

I don’t want to be handled gingerly

Like a fragile thing.

Maybe I will break,

And maybe it will be your fault.

But I can be strong for you too. 

Maybe you’ll break

And maybe it will be my fault. 
_____ 

When shards of me litter the floor,

Will you know what to do? 
_____

I’ve forgotten how to find the good in me,

But something in your eyes

And your smile

Makes it seem as though

That’s all you see.

I want so badly to believe in

The me

You think you see.

I want to be who

You think

I am. 
_____

Who was it

Who said that

When two people meet

There are actually six people in the room:

The you you think you are;

The you you actually are;

The you you want me to think you are;

The me I think I am;

The me I actually am;

The me I want you to think I am.

I like how this idea illustrates the complexities involved in 

Human interaction.

I’d argue however,

That there are 

Infinitely more divisible incarnations concerned in 

This dynamic.

The me I want you to think I think I am, for instance.

Or what about the you I think you are?

Or the you I want to believe you really are,

Or the you I think you think you are,

Or the me I think you think I am,

Or the me I think you think I think I am…

Endless complexity, I say!  
_____
Liking you
Is complicated business 
_____

Who I am

When I’m

With You

Is not

Who I am

When I’m

Alone. 
_____

Not even I

Will ever know

The

Real

Me.
_____

I wasn’t pretending,

I was trying to inhabit a better truth. 
_____ 

I want you to notice me.

I want you to find me intriguing.

Maybe I’m trying to

Create

A reallity

In which I am

Intriguing. 
_____

Stop looking at me!

Look at me!  Look at me!

Stop looking at me!!

Look at me!!  Look at me!!

(In perpetuity) 
_____

There’s a fine line

Between

Attraction

And

Repulsion.

I oscillate

Back

And

Forth

With ease.

Equal parts

Swooning

And

Gagging. 
_____ 

I like how you listen to

Me

When I say things,

And you remember the things

I’ve said or shown you.

It makes me feel like maybe

These things I say and do

Could be important. 
_____ 

I like how you talk to me

Like I’m not crazy 
_____

I think it's cute 
How you say things
Like you mean them 
_____  
I hope you find my weirdness to be

Compatible with yours

I just wanna fall in

Mutual weirdness

With you 
_____

I cannot even fathom

How you must experience the world 

_____

I want to be reincarnated as a lightning bolt.

An instant of electricity,

Lighting up the sky. A

Terrifying,

Elegant

Force 
_____

This is important,

But I don’t know what it means. 
_____

I no longer belong

Where I used to,

And I have yet to find

A new place

To belong. 
_____

“Pain is not a lifestyle,”

Says the sign

In the window

Of the chiropractor’s office

In South Philly.

I disagree.

“Not enough value,”

The turnstile tells me.

Seems awfully judgmental

For a machine. 
_____

Are you my future?

Are you my future? 
_____

Some false notions

Are irresistible.

The notion of  “You”

Or

The notion of “Me”

Or

The notion of “Us”

And

The notion of “We”

The notions of “They”

And

“Their”

Versus

“Us”

And

“Our”

The notion of “Money”

And

The notion of “Power”

“Happiness”

“Victory”

“Success”

“Genius”

Why do we do believe in this crap? 
_____

When you’re feeling worthless,

Make something up! 
_____

Fuck everything;

Take a nap 
_____

Nobody cares

Like you do.

You can’t rely

On anyone else.

Nobody

Is going to

Solve

Your problems

For you.

Start believing in

Yourself 
_____