not freedom. not poetry.
Saint Louise Was Listening On
7:22 p.m. || 2004-03-28
anger is not a gift. let's clear this up. anger is not a gift, nor are you clever because you can weild it like a weapon. nor are you important because you think things are directly entitled to you, or because you wait for things to happen to you. hitler was a genius, but i doubted he would be half as evil if he waited for jews to start offing themselves. and i have never seen an example of righteous rage, so, anger is not awe-inspiring to me anymore...
let's talk about being angry though, because it's what i am these days. let's talk about not being satisfied with anything. if there was a way to be different i would take it, a new career, a new me... i reinvent the outside constantly without ever moving on on the inside. i think about the skin on the lovers i've had, and how for most of them i can remember every sound they coaxed from me, and every scratch they had, every dip and every long stretch of seamless and beautiful velvet softness. i remember every color i ever dyed my hair, and when i did it. i remember every day it rained when i wished for beautiful weather, and every day i was awake at 6 am to watch the sunrise, and wonder when i would become something other than i am. i can remember the look in my mother's eyes the day i asked her if i could go on birth control, the day i told her i was dropping out of school, the day i told her i was moving in with my boyfriend, the day she came to the realization that i was sick, i was independant, and i would not be the little girl she always wanted. and i also remember the way my birthmother held me on the first day we met in over 20 years. i remember the details of time, seasons, emotions, strangers.
anger is not something i have become accostomed to over the years, and its grip still turns my cheeks scarlet, still makes my eyes brim with tears, still makes me shake. it still drives me to do incredible, irrational things.
it still makes me who i am.
it still makes me who i cannot become.