14.1.12
It dissolves into anger.
It always does.
Why can't you just say the right things? Why can't you be what you're supposed to be?
I get so angry. Every word is a trigger, every sentence is the line of gasoline. I'm made of gun powder and you're the flame.
One without the other doesn't work but together it causes such damage.
You're surprised every time.
How do you make so fucking angry? It races through my blood; that hopeless seething that burns all bridges and marks it path where it passes. Uncontrollable.
The need to finish this business.
Posted at 01:14 by
nansenland
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31.12.11
New Years is perpetually bittersweet.
Posted at 21:20 by
nansenland
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12.12.11
The direction towards home.
To meticulously untangle the knots in my hair; untangle the thoughts that have gotten caught in the rush, caught in the haze of being away.
Of being elsewhere.
When I hear your voice on the phone, through wires and crackling, it brings me back. The arrows are sharper now, they dig deeper now; no blow softened by the dream haloed roads and fields. The places we pass by through grey rains and mountainsides.
A road travelled.
Why it upsets me, I don't know. I wish I could tell you why it feels like you pull me harshly back into this level every time we interact. Even from across an ocean, even through my scheduled days and slept in mornings. Even through all this space and openness.
I wish I could.
Posted at 00:03 by
nansenland
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2.12.11
You ruined me.
You ruined me in the way only someone like you could have.
I always had them strung from my fingers; a distance away so I could never get too hurt, too attached. Soft, loaded words that slipped over sheets and curled around my mind, my body.
Always the upper hand.
Sometimes I feel physically sick from how incredibly intimate this all is. I was such a rock, such a stoic asshole. How is it that you've crept in and made yourself at home? Under all my locks, under all these previous engagements that kept me conveniently at an arm's length.
I miss you.
How?
---
She, on the other hand, is a different story. The living personification of how I used to think. Like so many others, then and now.
Sharp edges, self-serving anger and just the right amount of narcissism to come across as confident.
The older I get, the more I just look away.
Taking the high road is so unsatisfying because she still resides in me sometimes, aching to lash out at even the most minor infraction of these self-imposed rules. The look, the disgust at everything and everyone.
You don't fool me anymore.
No.
You're waiting to get that glory, to take that anger out on to anything that will stay still long enough for you to sink into for even a moment. Anything to be self-righteously mean.
The little girl grows into a wolf.
The older I get, the more the acid subsides. A sudden flash and then it's gone. A wisp of what would have been a national disaster.
You're not protecting yourself this way. If I could take you to where I've been and show you the burn marks, the fury and the destruction; where I came to and how it all came together.
Promises broken to let something else grow in their places. Something better. Make it better.
Sometimes a sigh is all I have left. Expelling the comforting inside to shift and mingle with the frightening outside.
Tomorrow is for me now, not your teeth and hurt.
Tomorrow.
Posted at 00:44 by
nansenland
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19.10.11
I tiptoe around you.
Tiny slivered eggshells where the weight was too much. White and shattered, porcelain pieces where I failed to be more careful.
Be more careful.
The disdain I used to feel for girls like this. The advice I would have given.
Words I would have written, letter by letter, inked out on a satin ribbon across my chest. Pageant queen for the self-righteous. Tied across my eyes, even in the beginning. Even when I swore I knew better.
I knew better.
This little island has been stormed and claimed over and over again. These walls were breached, these shores were worn into this shape forced by the crushing footprints and clinging fingers that scaled these heights.
These flags were battered.
An aching, filtered light that blinded me while I searched on my hands and knees for the pieces of things I kept so close, so dear. The haze was smokey and sweet, it creeps into my mouth and wraps itself around my body until I can't remember what it was like to think unaffected. To think clearly.
Sharp thoughts kept fiercely and at my side, always ready to reflect and defend. Sharpened to a fine point; a needle into the soft skin of anything that threatened this built-up empire. I built this from my own hands, my own back. I took every misgiving, every heartache and shaped it into another layer.
The dependency on the enemy to stay behind their own lines.
An unexpected allowance.
Repetition.
Posted at 23:14 by
nansenland
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27.8.11
It isn't until these moments that I feel the drum beating.
The doubt, the fear sets in. A familiar panic starts to creep along my limbs and whisper to me; it holds me where it wants me.
I wait.
Posted at 22:32 by
nansenland
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23.8.11
Out of the blue.
Out of where I once was, where I once stood shakily and unsure, where everything was too gloriously dreamy to every last, to be substantial. Where everything made the final break for it and I knew it was gone for good.
Mad howling, mad dogs, so much hurt - it was the first time I ever broke so cleanly. So clearly.
The cleanest cut stings so much more. The air circulating into closed off spaces and light-blinded nerves. The breathless ache of the openness. I wasn't used to that kind of wound.
And now it has come to a close, for real.
After months, you opened the door, just a little, one more time. I stirred the hive and only half expected the results. And for a brief moment, I became hummingbird busy and quickened... because it was unexpected, because it revived a certain type of magic hopefulness.
And maybe that's what I needed, because now I've closed the door again. I slid the key under the crack and let it be.
This is what letting go feels like.
Not forgotten but finished.
You took me by surprise. I knew from the start that it was not weighted, not heavy enough to hold on to - thin threads, spindling and airy that look so amazing in the sunlight and catch all the right glimmers. But not something to hold. Not something to touch.
For the first time, I have nothing left to say. There are questions I could ask, things I could accuse, words I could drip into you... but the spark that would have propelled me has ignited elsewhere, it's bloomed into another sky. And I have nothing to say.
The wait is over.
Posted at 23:40 by
nansenland
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10.8.11
Carry me home.
Pressed between two panes of glass, pressed between sheets.
I want to be in the pages; in all your words, in your ink. Soaking into your history and self, leaving a stained impression on the shelves and spines. Paper and water; hush the noises that fill this room. Quiet the rattling thoughts that leave you uncertain.
Surround me.
Some things are just not meant to be thought about. We'll stumble through root-filled memories and trip on those we left behind; sickened with love.
Tie your strings around me. Let them break when we part and connect in knots to the new and the halfhearted recoveries. And we'll howl when it sets in and the lights have gone out; we'll be drowned in the blue waves that come along, all salt and opal, at just the right moment to bathe the aches out.
But until then.
Posted at 00:01 by
nansenland
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22.7.11
It aches.
It was so easy when everything was a new beginning, a new hope. A simple spark in the eye; unfulfilled but much more satisfying. Easier to handle.
Free will.
Will you go?
It's impossible to keep someone completely, there's always the part of them you'll never know. The part that flies when it needs to. That piece that will never belong to you.
It will never be gentle enough to not cause damage, to not break every porcelain-thin nerve that's been tensed up for ages now. I'm cracking completely. I've already lost my time a thousand times. A thousand nights. A thousand words I've thrown at you in the hopes of some resolve, some relief to this desperation.
My stars are fading out, the formerly comforting soft glow is coming and going - a lighthouse calling me home. Calling out one more time. Coming back to where it all began, where everything was untied and my forgiveness was so much easier to come by.
Morse code.
I'm tapping out what I wish I could express clearly to your face. All these dangers and pieces of information that drop in to the sea and sink to the bottom before we can save them. Before the ship goes up in flames and we realize we never sent out the S.O.S.
Too wrapped up to see clearly. Too clear to be anything but painful. I know what this means, I know we've fallen off the line and what would make the most sense. And that's why it hurts so fucking bad.
I am exploding right in front of your face, right in front of myself. Every part, every fine piece of debris, is sent out into the atmosphere. Breathing in.
I can't even catch my breath now.
I can't catch myself.
They were always right. I was always the shit disturber. I was always the one who started the wars that I could never stop fighting in - I fire every first shot, sheer determination to bring every fucking wall down until I could see the very edge of the earth.
Sheer determination to win something I had no idea how to handle.
Every muscle that pushes me forward, every fleeting thought that sets the pace and sends me running.
We come full circle.
Posted at 00:52 by
nansenland
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18.7.11
That strange moment when you realize many of your grade school friends are getting married.
I don't know if I should feel behind in life or really happy that I am where I am.
Posted at 18:46 by
nansenland
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