the graphite scratches and slides.
i put on a new pot of coffee.
i prop the drawing back on my lap.
i press down hard with the pencil.
my legs fall asleep.
the paper is scarred.
the paper is scarred as i am scarred.
i read.
i read, i realize that so much has been kept at bay.
so much kept behind the wall of a smile.
so much fear of embarrassment.
too early was i sneered at and sneered at for crying.
too early i learned that "you are ugly when you cry".
i read and i write and i realize.
the graphite slides.
fuck the eraser.
2 comments:
you are ugly when you cry
I want to write about this but I can't. Women cry when they are angry or happy or sad or emotional. I think it's power. I used to be afraid of all that water but now I think of it as a side product of power. Like steam from a steam engine. I felt this the paper is scarred and read it as this paper is large which is how I feel lately when I draw like the paper is too big for me like it gets slippery and slides away like something liquid. You give me inspire.
fuck the eraser indeed.
like steam from a steam engine. i'm going to hold on to that because it is wonderful and i love it and need it. thank you for that.
sliding away like liquid is how poetry is for me much of the time. i'm so glad i have you to learn from and talk with about it. you inspire ME!
bullshit eraser.
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