*****instructions for reading (play these sounds in your head)


everything has a sound to me

*****(sound=radio switching stations)


the sound of my heart breaking into millions of pieces
with each new impact
the pieces keep getting smaller and smaller
i just keep picking them all up and stuffing them back inside of me
i hear the pieces getting jumbled
rearranged and disarranged

*****(sound=thousands of tin cans pouring into a recylcling center smasher)


thankfully my brain doesn’t identify the holes or growing discrepancies for me
the loss of memories is some graciousness of aging
they just get lost in the shuffle
the acute awareness of every little detail is buried
by my view of the big picture
i’m losing my edge

*****(sound=thousands of voices talking, unrelated sound bites playing simutaneously)


the sound of straight pipes roaring through the canyon
soothes my torn and ravaged soul
the sound makes my body remember
the feeling of 120 mile an hour wind biting my face
my arms around a man who is only happy when the throttle is wide open
screaming over black asphalt as far as the eye can see

*****(sound=straight pipes roaring thru a canyon)


my ears drink the gentleness of a little girl
playing beethoven on a slightly out of tune piano
softening my worried jagged facial expression
it gives me a break from worrying over Her
i drift in this oasis thru concerto #5
three or four times

*****(sound=an old upright being played, concerto #5)


the wild singing of coyotes howling
their bloody hunt arouses my heart
i feel the cool dark breeze on my naked skin
as my hungry soul runs after them
hungry, hungry, hungry
i could run forever

*****(sound=large pack of coyotes, very close)


they keep saying that i’m pretty
i don’t believe it
pretty is a liability that i can’t utilize
i can look at photos and air time
i see it but I still don't believe it
ugly is easier to wear like an invisible cloak

*****(sound=rodeo drive hair stylist voice, “what a fun fabulous look darling”)


i heard that I'm smart and talented
but I know I am going to turn into a monster geek
and fuck it all up

*****(sound=music producer in big lush office, “fabulous, luv ya babe”)


i don't trust anyone


my guts only remember the times
when i was told or made to feel i am butt ugly
having the shit kicked out of me
the bruises and the blood and the broken bones
hiding in a very little room so i could get a rest
from a war i could never understand or prevail in

*****(sound=use your imagination)


knowing that as soon as i were to step outside of that little room
which was inevitable
i would be beaten again until i was beaten down

***** (sound=knocking, pounding on a door)


my guts remember sleeping in abandoned buildings
when i couldn't just "camp out" on the ground somewhere
without getting raped
until i could conjure up a job and an apartment
being too young to legally be out on my own
all other options exhausted

*****(sound=bumps, furry little feet scurrying and creaks echoing in an empty building)


my guts hold the truth that drowns out the lies


you can call me overly dramatic but
i know you need to hear my screams ....
my tears, my laughter, my anger, my fear,
my dreams, my wonderment, my love,

*****(sound=rock band with female singer in smokey, loud club)


you need my song.....


i hear bugs talking
i know how bugs feel

maybe a delicious flash of being bathed in warm light
is the same as years
to us creatures that live so much longer than a few days

am i an angel flying into the light or a bug flying towards a light bulb?


*****(sound=flies buzzing around the trash can)


i...
must....
keep....
flying...
forward...

*****(lone piano wandering thru)

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