This poem was a contrast, falling from grace, coming to grips with reality, and possibly my upbringing where sexuality was never discussed, was to be avoided at all costs, repressing with the help of the Catholic Church. Two images.

One is me in 6 or 7th grade listening to Guns N Roses out front, re-enacting some sort of video in my mind to the song called Estranged. I remember it was a song and a time that had me looking to the future and beyond but everything beyond was of course a fairy tale. Like all the fairy tales told to me that had me believe the world was rather one dimensional and worked out your way 90% of the time. I was out front circling the flag pole, I was dreaming in sound and the waters before me seemed shallow with a comfortable shoreline only a few miles ahead. None of this true.

Instead, I was lost in LA, it must have been a decade or less since that moment. Drugged out, stumbling around to the thump of music devoid of the true universal voice that had allured me to its whimsical breath against my face, and I would end up with some random girl, no connection, just the release of who i was into the hand of some other person escaping some relative horror of being let down in some way. And it was all a myth, it wasn't made out to me as hard and that's where my parents failed. It aint just hard, its suffering misery and then nothing.

But bc there is nothing, all the more to write and live for today, and take this fruit and eat of its nectar. When I read it back, it seems so bleak, but i think bc it is, it makes me realize the pettiness of so much and the magic of so much here to live with and for every day.

Many of my poems are descriptions of singular paintings in my mind of some memory frozen, or some story told simply with its image. I paint it to the listener, but he or she may look at it and not know it but come up with their own interpretation. Art is art. haha