[x]ember.

the ember grows cold
as you take your flame away from me
something still burns
when the thought of you occurs
yet i am spared my eyes
not having to see you
these tiny hurts
are but paper cuts on my heart
yet wounds just the same

[x]we move on.

...miss the sound of my voice
the feel of my eyes
the burning of my soul
the sense of being drawn
the overbearing of my heart
the power of my words
the beauty of our eden
the intoxication of our presence
the sparks of every touch
that very calculation in our romance
and, most of all -
the sophistication of my love

[x]hiding in plain sight.

shell shocked and numb
i walk the line between hope and despair
how quickly this all unraveled
these words my very blood
so what will happen
when i run out of poetry in this disconnect?
no longer have to see me hiding in plain sight
my will to power and weakness
yet she called me nonchalant

[x]just another scar.

i long for the day
that i won't have to look into her eyes anymore
when i don't feel the pain
that she doesn't even acknowledge
when this open wound
will be just another scar
and when this siren
will be just another flame
i long for the day
when i won't feel like this anymore

[x]benevolent poison.

what used to be tension
just feels like a lack of oxygen now
the weight heavy and hallucinating
is it still intoxicating?
or is it just hard to breathe?
gradual in it's benevolent poison
i expose myself to it slightly
trying to just let it go numb
let that part of me that was yours die
but there is no immunity to work up to
there never was an inoculation in the first place

[x]Shadow.

you could say
that this is a crossroads
when i clearly see the way back
but cannot glimpse the way forward
i stand in a my vast shadow
and in this eclipse
i just can't tell how tall i could have been

[x]orbit.

did i fall out of her orbit
or did she fall out of mine?
i take solace in the fact
that i won't feel like this forever
knowing that she wasn't the person
i thought she was
and i am spared
knowing that she never really knew me at all

[x]by definition.

like a ticker tape parade of ash
the paper still burning
words scattered and meaningless
lost like the momentum of gestures
this disillusion of progress
the inertia of my soul
must carry on past my heart stonewalled
cold logic takes back over
there is no big picture here
there is no mosaic anymore

[x]Year In Review 2009.

Song of the year - "Uprising" by Muse (The Resistance)



They will not force us, they will stop degrading us...
They will not control us, we will be victorious...

Well, well, well. It's been a while, my dear readers. I haven't posted anything on my website since September. I have missed you and writing for you.

Some of you are well aware of what has transpired this over the last 12 months. Some of you know part of the story, some of you know all of it. I know my tag line for 2009 was "Johnny Bronto Takes Over The World" but it turned out of be "The World Takes Over Johnny Bronto". 2009 saw me overwhelmed in more than one situation. This was my best year creatively, which isn't surprising considering.

I really wish I could be more forthcoming to you. However, for one of the first times in the history of my journal - these will stay my private disasters.

Let me put it this way - the phoenix in me finally died. I cannot burn with reckless abandon anymore. That part of me is gone.

Normally I would go through my resolutions of last year - however being that I completely failed at every single one of them, I will skip it. I tend to get caught up in myself and my life. This year I found myself absolutely lost.

Sigh. I really wish I could just come out and say it. I really wish I could just have full disclosure here. How strong I was at some points, how absolutely pathetic I was at others. This past year stretched me to my limits, and I cannot wait until it is over.

I learned a lot this year:

The grass is never greener...
If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck...
The quarry has to be worth the chase...
People do NOT change...
You cannot save someone if they have no interest in being saved... (see above)

Here are my thank you notes:

Thank you to my family for supporting me. Mom, you are the best.
Thank you to Margarita for being an angel and literally saving me from the brink.
Thank you to Jenn for listening to me.
Thank you to Joe for writing a book that brought me back to orb.
Thank you to Noel for everything you've done for me. You are the best.
Thank you to Nicole A for not letting me make any more excuses for them.
Thank you to Jessired for being a fellow ginger and a great talker.
Thank you to all of my ex-EBG co-workers for being awesome, I miss you all.
Thank you to all of the certain A's that were muses and sirens.
Thank you to Michelle for Z, and still talking to me even though I don't deserve it.
Thank you to everyone I may have forgotten to list here. It's 3:25am

I have high hopes for 2010. Here are my resolutions...

1. Peace and Quiet - 2009 was too loud. I'm 31.
2. Stability - No more fluctuations.
3. Progress - This T-Mobile thing will work itself out one way or another...
4. Creativity - I would like to start my first book this year.
5. Path - I know where I've been, I just want to know where I am going.

2010 - A little island called hope.

[x]The bullet and the phoenix.

the broken pieces of me
this pathetic offering
head down and cupped hands
whatever is left is yours
above all other things
it breaks my heart
to have to tell you that I'm not perfect

longing for the day
when this is all over
i will be out of this haunted house
and she will just be another predecessor
with the epilogue and moral
that the quarry
should be worth the chase
because I don't know
what I would have done
even if I had caught her

she warned me of the knife
that she held when I embraced her
she's evil and apathetic
the way quicksand could be called malicious
she leaves me to die
forever to swear
that it was my doing all along

my angel will always
have one percent of me
and this bar
she sets it so unfairly
for the rest of the world
and all of the love that I will ever have

what good is a hero
to a damsel in distress
that doesn't want to be saved
the roles we played
nothing more than the fabrications
of a poor soul
that made the grave error
of just wanting to be more for her

out of options
this all encompassing void
backs me to a cliff
this cinematic leap
of sheer lack of faith
saved by my angel
grabbing my wrist
showing me what a siren really is

depending on who you ask
she killed me
or I killed myself
the eyewitnesses live on
if only to know the truth of it
I am free finally
to exist and believe
somewhere in between
the bullet and the phoenix

the karma line of credit
and the ghost of you
our crosses to bear
I suffer this truce
only because
I don't have the energy to surrender anymore