citrus

i'm packing up to head home,
but home is where the heart is.

and i'll be back

after many messages, of course.


~-~-~-~

i'm wearing that string of beads around my neck: the red beads with one silver heart that has courage written across it.
i don't typically wear heart-type jewelry but my mom gave me this necklace and i love the way it nearly strangles me and stands for strength in my own beating organ.
must have a brave-heart.

most of my belongings are stacked in piles in one corner and others are still scattered about.
when i'm done here, when i'm finished for the time being with feeding my thoughts into this little white box, i'll squeeze that pink elephant and listen to it coo, then i'll put on music i've fallen junkie to and sing and hope these beads help choke tears so ready to well inside my eyelids.
i'm so ugly when i cry, blood shot and glassy eyes, bags swelling red beneath them, lips curled in attempt to break an oncoming wave of emotion that before i was keeping at bay.
dammit.

but it's so good.
this city loves me. i love it back.
and it may not be the end all be all,
what is besides life itself?
it's a stone between now and another tomorrow,
though i still have stones to step to get here.

i feel strong. and vulnerable.
i wrote some things while roaming around but not as much as i'd wanted to keep in ink.

today i feel so tiny and yet so big
insignificant but empowered.
a sardine on the subway and still in my own world.
unable to express my overwhelming gratitude... stifled again with appreciation for what 'luck' has seemingly bestowed upon me

so much to say and no one way i could articulate what it means to me.
so so often.
i will hide it inside like i like to do.
a seed planted with good intention. the sun always rises and there's a storm in my soul. plenty of love in the forecast to help it grow.

~-~-~-~

tell it to the judge, man
tell it to your motherless reflection
in a sock and one shoe
after the great defection
she said tell a lie sometimes
tell the truth when it suits you
when you've lost your way
tell a story

tell your story
tell it tell it tell it
tell your story
to anyone who'll listen
tell your story
don't stop talking
just tell your story walking

listing through caroll gardens
on your way to cobble hill
i stopped at a psychic's dusty
wilted windowsill
forgot what she told me mostly
but i remember one thing
she said you may slip and call some lousy fuck your friend
but in the end
you'll come out even

then you tell your story
tell it tell it tell it
tell your story
to anyone who'll listen
tell your story
don't stop talking
just tell your story walking

and it's a sorry frightful thing
when you want to cry
but you can't keep from laughing
outside the church that's so quiet
it dares you to shout
you put a hand to your mouth
to stop the rain
you do a saint vitus' dance
through the sky
you raise your voice
this is your chance
you have no choice

you tell your story
tell it tell it tell it
tell your story
to anyone who'll listen
tell your story
don't stop talking
just tell your story walking
(deb talan)

but there's just so much i'll miss