midnight April 24th, 2010

I pick up the phone
I probably shouldn’t have pretended I had a gun
usually I escalate a situation to the point that my opponent retreats, but in this particular case no matter what I do, I end up flogging the fire

I should have this figured out by now
I haven’t
I learn from my mistakes long enough to get comfortable to forget what I’ve learned
and make the same mistakes
in some brand new ways

the point being, I probably shouldn’t have suggested that I had a gun

it’s about midnight
I pick up the phone
as I call I ponder many of the poems I have wrote
where did they go

I think it’s generally better to write new prose
than resurface the old
because the current moment continues to warp and change as time and constructs pass through it
not everything loses its meaning
but most everything loses its touch

the phone is ringing
I have decided to call the black witch tonight
I’ve never done this before
our last conflict ended in dry everything

she answers
I’m not nervous
I’m in control now
I feel guilt from the power I am taking back
I’ve spent my whole life terrified of the results of pushing her away

the first time I shut her out
she wrote me a letter
staring and confused
she had no idea why I would be so rude

I blamed her for it
she was a black witch!
what else could it be

it felt great
to take the power back
I bragged about my victory
but her spell sunk deeper over time
I found myself writing her name in a notebook
over and over

her eyes had become dark and twisted
I couldn’t explain myself
she had an impossible sadness in her gaze
and I was the result of that pain

the phone stops ringing
she said hello
I say hi, knowing she couldn’t understand my intent

the awkward dance
I could feel her tension rising
I was in control
yet riddled with guilt
I was nice and danced around my meaning
she laughed and I started to feel relived
but she must have been drinking
stab stab stab

fuck me
shock horror and pain
I had been deceived
my muscles swelled and I screamed
punching and pushing and kicking

there is no point
I felt the stang burn cold
I was hollow
now

emptied I hung up and emptied I gave up
I walked away from the black witch because I had convinced myself that I was the cause of her defeat

I had forgotten the vital principle I always forget or ignore
the curse was not her
the curse is me.