Absence (by Rebecca Chasteen) Friday, Jan 30 2009

The absence
is just unsettling,
not unexpected,
aching,
but in no way misunderstood
the reaching desire
crawling under my skin,
twisting around in my head
is dangerous,
unthinking

I miss you

All. The. Time.

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Breath and Skin (by Rebecca Chasteen) Friday, Jan 30 2009

I am nothing more
than skin and warmth and breath
hair falling down my shoulders,
across your stomach

I am legs wrapped around you,
hips moving
I am accepting you

your name on my mouth
I am no different right now
than any other

neither are you.

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Parking Lots (by Rebecca Chasteen) Friday, Jan 30 2009

Sometimes,
when I should be doing something else,
I am walking through a parking lot,
towards you,
I am everywhere we’ve been and some places we haven’t.

I am bent over you,
whispering only the truth,
wrapped in years,
and I am wanting it to find a place in you to anchor down
so that if I never have this chance again,
you will have it.

Nothing is the way I would have it be
except for the truth
it’s the only thing
I can give you completely
I need you to take its weight
And let it keep you from ever being too far from me
I need you to let it lift you every place you ever want to be

because I can’t

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IHOP (by Rebecca Chasteen) Friday, Jan 30 2009

I want more to be said of this than
misstep, mistake, emotions misplaced.
I don’t want this
reduced

I hate I’m always sitting by you
with all I have partitioned,
attempting to maintain,

It’s obvious
it’s too late for some things
and we always have words left waiting,
while we jump around this.

I keep attempting
to stop being so selfish
and leave you alone
but I have such poor self control

And I try to be light,
to focus on the beautiful part-
but the fact you exist
keeps breaking my heart

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language capacity (by Rebecca Chasteen) Wednesday, Jan 14 2009

i think we are so funny, the way we communicate in codes, undertones and overtones.
analogies, metaphors, similes. every conversation
a new chapter in our spark notes. i take a good
half a day reviewing and extracting key phrases.  we are magicians
with words and we can create every illusion we choose and then
sandwich it silently into the things we lay out with our tongues
or fingers

we don’t omit anything, we send the soundless words on the backs
of the most rational and acceptable sentences, we mime emotions
we won’t bring up because we have yet to find a way to arrange them
just right with letters and vowel sounds.

occasionally,

after a late night or death scare or something equally inebriating, we
form our lips around all the things we have worked so hard not
to say, and we damn the repercussions, and the next
moment we return without speaking to our corners of the world, it is
the cautious language that keeps our distances safe and weaves
our lines of history into a durable, almost tangible
truth.

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Boxes (by Rebecca Chasteen) Wednesday, Jan 14 2009

Don’t build boxes
with the impression that you can take everything
you want for your life, contain it-
seal it with packing tape and label it
with a Sharpie.

Life never leaves you holding the same hand long enough, as soon as you pack it up, it’s
not yours anymore
and,
there’s not enough room
on a label
and it would get marked over anyway, box reused till the cardboard gives and you’re
looking at your feet covered in debris of planning and belief

…and…don’t build boxes
around people
people in boxes are illusions, you can’t box anything that grows
you can’t box tidal waves or flames or anything…isn’t it obvious
that box
is a bad idea
for you too?
you burn light into dusty corners and crash on shores, leaving tokens of your journey, you
move
you
are not an illusion
I told you…don’t build boxes

nothing
worth anything
will fit in them.

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Never leave the good stuff sitting on the shelf (by Rebecca Chasteen) Tuesday, Jan 6 2009

I’ve always wanted
to get my hands dirty
when I love,
when I live,
when I work
throw in my heart
feel a little hurt

wrap myself up
in everything
work my ass off to make something change
and last
make beauty
from an tainted past

leave pieces of myself
everywhere
reveal myself
layer by layer

learn trust
earn trust
have the confidence
to open up

never run scared
be there
in the moment
love my self
and own it

wear my wounds
with wisdom
and peace
know when to be strong
and when to be weak

keep going
when I want to give up
live for living
and not for stuff

grow inside
but never age
hold it all together
and still be crazed
and laughing

pour myself out
take the risk
seek forgiveness
know how to forgive

spread my wings
with my roots intact
make my own decisions
about fiction and fact

make something
of everything
except what I let go
make use of what I go through
and everything I know

do what I love
and not what I’m told
challenge stereotypes
break a few molds

live a life
that will testify for itself
and never leave the good stuff
sitting on the shelf.

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The Toxic Collection (by Rebecca Chasteen Sunday, Jan 4 2009

Snake Bite

I feel your anger in your hand on my face, you have countless ways
of making me feel guilty, of making me feel worthless
you obligate me with your need and I don’t think anything

is worth this

glass at my feet, vodka dripping
plaster on my shoulders, in my hair
remnants of the one wall you manage to break through
I can’t do this

I shouldn’t be here

with you screaming at toddlers who cry out for you
all the time,
telling me to never come back inside, and leaving me
with all the responsibility-
it’s not okay

I’m war weary, I’m not connecting
I’m just drifting
I’m just waiting
I’m just dreading

coming home

——————————————————————
t(ou)rnique(t)

while you weren’t watching
i carved out something
just for me
broke so much i got set free
i’d say thank you
if i didn’t almost hate you
you won’t find what i’ve hidden
you can’t take what’s not given
i cut my skin with that glass and sucked the venom
i’m not dying here- victim
i might not look any different face to face
but i’m out, i’m safe.

———————————————————————-
Turning Point

I’m not guilty.
I’m not sorry.
You can’t make me
feel anything.

I’m not scared
when you yell,
when you’re in my face
saying things
you chose specifically to hurt me.

And I don’t care
when you turn cool,
indifferent,
exacting on me the punishment
of not being worth your emotion.

Because I see through you
and I won’t allow you any part of me
to mutate,
to mutilate,
to puppet or parade.

I’m not yours
and
I’m not afraid.

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Debris (by Rebecca Chasteen) Sunday, Jan 4 2009

I keep thinking
someone else’s words
lyrics
songs
will
work out the kinks
in the words I can’t say,
the sickness that washes me away

now I see the waste
and I can’t get past this place

I’m covered with debris
it’s dirty air I breathe
I don’t know how to be

I feel high for a minute
epiphanies turn to epitaphs
I ache
anger
disgust
I can’t shake

cry to convulsions
mind still bent
begging someone
never speaking

fear digs in its heels
regret goes in for the kill

I’m covered in debris
It’s dirty air I breathe
I know what’s expected of me
I just can’t get free.

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I can’t move (by Rebecca Chasteen) Sunday, Jan 4 2009

I can’t move
after talking to you,
after saying so little.
I just stare,
I just close my eyes
to make everything disappear
because I don’t want
you to be where you are
(it’s always too far)

I run pens dry
sorting through it all
and still things don’t fall
into the right places
(if there are any)

For all the times I talk to you,
there are countless more times I wanted to
And every single time I walk away,
I’m fighting the pull that says “just stay”

I go through the motions
after being with you,
but underneath it all,
I can’t move

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