'Wilbur' by Ravyn LaRue

I should be doing Women's Studies homework
And I will be soon enough
But there is a boy in a coffee shop
Sitting a table away from me
Listening to his i-pod
And switching between reading 'Charlotte's Web'
And 'How To Write Irresistible Kid-Lit'
And this is so splendid
He could do it, I'm sure
Write the next 'Tale of Despereaux'
He could, for all I know
And that is so exciting in a weird dumb sort of way
I hope he writes something splendid
And I could read it to my perspective children someday
And he's drinking from a kiddie-cup
Oh, I can't even-
This makes me so happy
Our coats are touching
So many people just want to write big vast novels
That people in the future will dissect and shout
Wow this is so brilliant
There aren't many I know-
Well at least there weren't any at Columbia
Who actually want to write for kids for any other reason
Other than becoming as rich as J.K. Rowling
And perhaps this random bespectacled
Coffee-shop children's book writer boy
Might just be in it for the money
But I hope not
I hope he writes splendid things
And I hope I write splendid things
But I should be doing Women's Studies homework
So I will be soon enough

'She Likes Hippies and Cabaret and Wendigos' by Ravyn LaRue

My poetry teacher
understands all my strangest
references thus far

'Too Lazy To Step Off Campus Today' by Ravyn LaRue

I do sincerely like it here
But in my mind
It's still nothing more than a transition
Nevertheless so were many things
And I enjoy this far more
than the success story Columbia should've been
I know it's seen as a screw-up school
and I can't help but unintentionally out myself as such
But I've got my fingerprints
on the coattails of another big fat dream
and I intend to chase it
and if that too ends up turning on me
hopefully by then I might be strong enough to put up a better fight
Everything is so white and dismal now
but soon it'll be spring
and I hope to blossom myself back together
But until then
this is nice
looking out upon Loring park
watching the dogs and squirrels and smoke rising up
Soon it'll be summer and the park will be a rainbow
I've promised myself to be happy then

'And Write YES On Your Stomach' by Ravyn LaRue

I'll spread glitter on
my clavicles and I'll be
Hedwig Robinson

'Written Ages Ago But Always Relevant' by Ravyn LaRue

There's so much to write
But my mind is such a mess
So I just sit here

'Close to Cure' by Ravyn LaRue

This week since seeing
My beloveds I've felt so
So much happier

'Still Beautiful' by Ravyn LaRue

I'm tremendously happy due to Sarah Bartley's Tattoo
Partially because she is wonderful and her mantras are marvelous
But also, selfishly, because she's all about self love
And she shows her confidence through parts of her
Similar to my own parts, that I myself still struggle with
It brought me back, sadly, to the class at columbia where
I showed the drawings on my back and I heard choirs of snickering
Because, no surprise here, my back is as fat as the rest of me
I couldn't help feeling a tad hurt, though, really, why would I expect any better?
Nevertheless, I did my best to shrug it off
But, I'll tell you, self love is so much easier when you're surrounded by those who love you
So I saw this pretty picture radiating her confidence on my boring white newsfeed
And my heart couldn't help but leap for joy
As my mind imagined what tattoos I might get on my own rolling hills

'Deer and Ravens Frozen Dead' by Ravyn LaRue

I have so many
Wendigo analogies
They keep popping up

'Calling Me A Cunt Never Gets Old, Apparently' by Ravyn LaRue

I think of clever
witty rebuttals to the
anon hate I get

Because I know the
girl who sends them and I know
how to be quite cruel

But that's what makes us
different since I would never
post something that mean

Poems are different
that is catharsis which I
need for myself but

I could never do
the horrible things that she
has oft done to me

It seems like crossing
an imaginary line
which I shall not do

'Just Keep On Repeating "Process Not Product"' by Ravyn LaRue

I've decided to promise myself
To keep doing all I do
In hopes that I'll be good at art someday
Because right now I feel like many small fragments
And that's a whole lot better than nothing
But I really really want to grow

'2-23-2014 11:57' by Ravyn LaRue

It's still your birthday
And this is a poem I guess
So Happy Birthday

'Summer Wishes 2014' by Ravyn LaRue

I've decided for this summer
I am going to shave and show my legs
And smother on sunscreen and wear my rainbow sunglasses
And I'll go swimming lots (really honest-and-true this time)
And I'll get sunburned, likely
But I'll butter myself in Aloe Vera and it'll all be fine
I'll write in notebooks outside while sitting in parks
And I'll walk down Grand avenue and perhaps stop inside a coffee-shop
But only for a few moments, since I have bigger fish to fry
And I'll see if I can get some high-waisted swimsuit bottoms
So I can wear my fat-kini and even if not, I can wear it with a skirt
For PRIDE and/or slut walk
And I'll sit in the shade at Sidebridge as Darius does what he does
And I'll play on the Playground by Joe's house while we confide
And I'll hopefully go to Valleyfair with Terese
And I'll drink passion-tea lemonade and eat ice-cream and frozen yogurt
And I will do all I can to embrace this summer
Since I've never longed for it more than during this school year
So once it finally comes, I promise to revel in it

'Dan and Darius' by Ravyn LaRue

I think my mum has
surrogate sons to make up
for losing her own

'Phteven' by Ravyn LaRue

I miss Anisha
I got my webcam fixed now
I should skype her soon

I miss Anisha
I'll wear the shorts she gave me
when it gets warm out

I miss Anisha
and how we laughed at Phteven
and other such things

I miss Anisha
each time I see the car ad
with the lip-synching

I miss Anisha
I hope she's happy this Spring
I should skype her soon

'Monday February 24th 1:32' by Ravyn LaRue

I've decided to write a play
And I think it has potential
But then again, I think all my failures do
Nevertheless I really like this one
Though I figure-
It's going to get really pretentious really fast
So I'd like to remove myself a tad
Though the subject matter requires the literal opposite
But I don't want something inaccessible prancing around a stage
Sincerely, I don't
But I want the smoky stage smell and no fourth wall
And I want it to be beautiful
But I don't want however-long of "Ask me what it means!"
So that'll be quite the challenge, but I like this idea
I think it might work since I'm approaching it as poetry
And when I've written plays in the past
I think they sucked since I tried to make them so structured and linear
I'm not all that good at that
But as you can see
I can vaguely monologue on my own for hours on end
In written form
So I may as well try to be productive it
Besides
My beautiful huge and newfound ambitions
Which I'll tell you about soon enough, I promise
Will positively require this
So if I can get a jump start and figure it out
Before I set out again for the glorious vast yonder
It'd be helpful
Since the theater is my church
And it'd be nice to try my hand at writing my own homily

'Superficial Bullshit' by Ravyn LaRue

She's surprisingly good at crocodile tears
She always cries whenever I stand up for myself
I say things like,
"You make me sadder than anyone else in the world"
Which is true, and today I said,
"You have the ability to be the meanest person in the world,
But also the ability to be the nicest-
It'd be a lot easier if you were only one."
Which is also true, but now she's sobbing
Acting as if I am the abuser and she is the abused
Even though any venom I may unintentionally spit
Is just because she's doing things I need to fight back against
She says what I call kindness, is just "superficial bullshit"
Including empathy and support for those who are hurting
And I told her that it proves how unkind she is
Since things like caring for others in their times of struggle
Isn't something that should need to be faked
For example, I feel bad that I made her cry
Even though I'm well aware that she's done worse to me
I still feel bad, because my empathy isn't superficial bullshit

'After 10 Cups Of Coffee' by Ravyn LaRue

I want to get back into being addicted to coffee
It isn't good for my voice
But it's the lesser of many many many evils
And so I want to partake
Because I feel I need something
Especially considering the perpetual tiresomeness
I don't know- it seems like a good choice, given all my options
Super glamorous in a subdued my-sort-of-thing sort of way

'Testify' by Ravyn LaRue

I hope to be
Half as inspirational as those I admire
Not because I'm charming, beautiful or brilliant
But because art is my salvation
And I hope others notice that
And hand their heart over too
If they so choose, of course
Because, if you're hurting
That's the best advice I can give
I'm not cured or anything
But I'm not dead either, yet

'All The City Buses Swimming Past' by Ravyn LaRue

I'm not sad
I just-
Have to exist here
for a while-
Y'know?

'Lavender and Off-White' by Ravyn LaRue

I've gotten into a habit
as of late
to write my poems
very conversationally
particularly when I'm writing to you

I think this is because
I do this as a coping mechanism
and most people cope
through confiding

I don't quite like this
yet I reject the notion of
floral verse for faux flower's sake

Flowers are beautiful because they can die
like the two you got me on Valentine's day
and so my good poems are good
because there are such fleeting few
and that's terrifically sad
but at least there are some good ones

And this is evidently not among them

'Flower Power' by Ravyn LaRue

It was the most amazing sight
He held the carnations tight between his thumb and index finger
And he rooted it safely within the barrel of the gun
He returned it's stem to mineral-made gunpowder it grew from once
The sergeant tried plucking some out that he had already planted
But the message had already been sent
The gunman's soul had already been saved
Hibiscus' message had already been preached
And I was there that day in that moment of beauty
I have no fonder memory than this

'καταχρηστική Μητέρα' by Ravyn LaRue

I don't feel like I
Can live under the same roof
As her anymore

But I have to since
I have no where else to go
Or money either

So I stay here now
I wish I did not have to
But it's all I have

Someday I'll leave this
And I will rejoice loudly
And others will hear

And they will ask me
"She was so kind, why'd you leave?"
And other things, too

And I will be quiet
Since she was nice to all them
Since she can be nice

And they'll think I'm wrong
And disbelieve my accounts
Since she is so loved

And I'll be alone
But at least I'll be free though
I'll be penniless

I never said I
Want them to believe me but
It sure would be nice

She even makes me
Doubt myself lots daily still
Since I'm just crazy

My emotions are
What she says makes me feel bad
And not her at all

But it's gotten bad
To the point where I almost
Miss Chicago now

And that's terrible
Only abuse can make you
Miss other abuse

'Don’t Be A Fool, Girl, Tell Him You Love Him' by Ravyn LaRue

I've already written more poems about you than any rational person should
But I favor emotion over logic, and I think that's why I've written you so much
I want to spread my soul out for you, since I truly believe that you would understand
And sometimes I still fear that though I am clinging to you, you might not like it
But I would never lie, and I love you- not more than everyone, but different
I feel like if I were to confide any stitch in the tapestry of my life you would understand
And I my brain tells me I'm dumb to put that much faith and power in someone who-
A year ago was merely a dear boy I longed to know better yet had no inkling of
But my heart says, he is home to you and moments shared are art and openness-
Don't give this up- you've never had someone like this-
You've been fooled in the past, but it never felt that real anyways
So self, don't be stupid- cherish him, and them and everything-
Because you know all too well what it feels like to be homeless and alone
If this boy feels like home to you, let catharsis reign true-
So I'm writing you another poem, though I've already written more than any rational person should
Because I love you, and love is never rational
We promised to stay in touch and I will stick to that steadfastly
For I've missed you more than I would like to admit, because you are a representation of all that is good-
At SPCPA, in Minnesota, in Art and in the Universe
And you mean the world to me
So I'll cry with you as long as you'll let me, because not many others will
And you mean the world to me, so here's yet another poem to add to the compendium

'Feeling Blessed' by Ravyn LaRue

Today was a better day than many I've recently felt
Things are warming up, emotionally, daily
But there's something frigid still holding me back
And I don't want to hold back
I want to run all around and lift my loved ones up
And cry until this ache I feel is filled instead with joy
Hugs and affection release endorphins, it's a chemical thing
And for me who cares not for science
Yet is so quick to go along with the prospect of depression
Well I don't want pills- I just want embraces
And today I got so many-
Many of which they were the last to let go
And I feel at home when I'm around them
SPCPA is my home
And I wish I could've stayed forever
But life isn't that easy
But they tell me that they love me
And that cures more than anything else ever could

'Survival Semester' by Ravyn LaRue

I feel like I should be telling those close to me
That I had depression last semester
Since it was somewhat confirmed
I don't think it would justify my actions
And I know it's terrifying-
And terribly unhelpful to believe
That love can easily mend something like that
But I want to feel their arms around me
And I want to cry into their chests
Because there is still part of me missing
And I feel like I'm stuck in the past
And I'm a dumbass dreamer to believe
Their embraces could save my soul
But I know it has in the past

'Maternal Fear' by Ravyn LaRue

I had a dream where
My best friend from Chicago
Got pregnant
As we had predicted
And her jerk-ass boyfriend remained
And they refused to nurse the child
Both my friend and her boyfriend
Because they said
It wasn't worth the saggy breasts
And I offered to feed the child myself
Since they wouldn't feed her otherwise
But I was where I am now
So the baby was left to die

'Wanderlust' by Ravyn LaRue

Minnesota is my beloved thing
Obviously
My port in the storm
My hometown glory
All that Jazz
But the thing is
As of late
Or at least as of returning
I've been longing to have affairs
With New York
And London
And Portland
And California
And pretty much everywhere aside from Chicago
Or Wisconsin, since I haven't had good experiences there
I'm overcome by wanderlust as of late
I think because I feel like I have to re-find myself
And that's a thing people do in hopes of discovering identity

'Experimental Essence of Poetry' by Ravyn LaRue

I suppose poems are meant to be poetic
That ethereal otherworldly universal feel of art
The stardust and spectrums and
That unknown plane where souls swim naked
Everything ephemeral and eternal woven-
Eyelids thin as rose petals with veins showing
Veins gorgeous on flowers and hideous on humans
I can wax philosophical all I want
And there are slivers of truth embedded
But I'd be feigning pretense
And I no longer feel the need to be cryptic
It's the naked souls thing
But maybe I should be at least a tad more floral in my wording

'I Believe' by Ravyn LaRue

I like Terese's
'I Believe' wall in her room
I should make one, too

'Embraces That You Thought You’d Left Behind' by Ravyn LaRue

When my beloveds hug me
It feels much more real than when my family does
But I suppose loved ones are loved ones
And blood and obligation is just family
I'm glad there's at least some overlap
Otherwise I'd be much more confused than I am already

'Fluidity' by Ravyn LaRue

I'm not feeling well today, physically
But I still went to class (of course)
And I still decided to stop at a coffee-shop on my way home
Because I have a multitude of poems to write
About this weekend, since lots happened
All day today I've caught my reflections in glass
And every time, I think-
"Well, I sure look good for someone who feels this awful"
And I've also been "mistaken" for a guy thrice
It's weird because I identify as gender queer who prefers female pronouns
Because, like Joe and I were talking about the other day, gender roles are stale and awful
I wanna cosplay as Hedwig one of these days, but that's another story
But as I mentioned, it's weird that I say "mistaken" for a guy
Since I don't give a damn about gender roles, but when people call me him and he-
My mind loves yelling, "HEY I'M NOT THAT"
I was drafting a poem in my head last night
That went a little something like this-
My life is a huge mess of-
"I don't know what on earth I'm gonna do with this, but I must keep going"
Writing, drawing, performing-
Life itself-
It all applies
I was wondering last night if I'm agnostic
Since I believe there's a God and I have a faith of sorts
But I have no neat little label for it
So with Spirituality and Gender and the Art I want to make
I have some semblance of knowing what I am
But it's a whole huge metaphysical mess that I can't just identify with a word
I am certainly in a transition period in my life
Because my identity isn't as simple as it used to be
And I'm becoming uneasy with my vast spectralness
Cause it's easier to say I'm a female Catholic than this odd thing I actually am
I tried to change my gender on Facebook to Gender Queer/Gender Fluid with "She's" and "Hers"
But it hasn't yet updated, and neither has my mind
We were talking in Women's Studies about "X: a Fabulous Child's Story"
And I've mentioned that's how I want to raise a kid
But I want them to be named, and that's a difficulty in and of itself
So I was brainstorming gender-neutral names I actually like
And I came up with Jackie, but the only Male who I can think of named Jackie is Jackie Robinson
And he existed ages ago, but still it's something
My child may change their name entirely if they decide upon a binary identity
I don't even know, I'm just thinking of things in the distant hypothetical future
Whereas I should be focusing on the here and now
Because I feel like I should soul-search to find my specific little identity boxes
But then I feel like I should instead be fine with not having clear answers for what I am
Because that isn't really vital, at least in my mind
I can be fluid and queer in all the ways possible if that is what I feel
So it seems entirely counter-productive to act as if I have to be a certain thing
That'd be just as unhelpful as any other sort of this-or-that system
For instance this isn't even a poem
It's more of a rant
But it's also sort of poetic, at least in my mind
So I'm cool with calling it a poem
Even though it's somewhere else on the spectrum, most likely
My tongue is numb, and that has nothing to do with the rest of this
But it means I cannot taste my hot chocolate
Which is really a nuisance
And I should start another poem
Since I think this has sort of had an arch, maybe

'Splitrock Lighthouse' by Ravyn LaRue

It makes me so happy recognizing things
Places and people
The internet is as vast as the sea
And I'm just a fish happily swimming
But when waters are rough in my times of trouble
It helps seeing gorgeous familiar shores
Minnesota is the prettiest lighthouse I've ever seen
For I know the majority of my beloveds reside within it

'And I, Your Little Ruth' by Ravyn LaRue

I had
The most remarkable dream in ages
Last night
And I didn't want to wake up
Because it was so phenomenal
And I wanted it to happen in real life
Though it'd only further solidify
My backwards looking mindset
And my super senior status
But nevertheless
I had gotten a call or something
From Briggle
And he said,
"It happened again!"
And I said,
"What did?"
And he said,
"My first choice Ruth backed out!"
And I felt my heart flutter, and I bit my tongue quick, then said,
"Oh no! That's too bad-"
I let my voice trail, subtly (although probably not) lowering the pitch
And he said,
"Could you, by chance, meet me in the Lehr?"
And I don't even think I answered or hung up the phone
I just materialized in the beautiful purple black-box
The next thing I knew, I was handed a script, annotated in his writing
And I was learning lines and songs, half of which were once already memorized
And I remember thinking,
"This is the greatest thing ever- I'm so happy to be in a show again!"
And I remember thinking,
"I will be so much better than last time, I've grown into my quasi-contralto, and I'm more confident-"
And then my dream caught up a tad and made it into future tense as I thought,
"And at least this time I'm older in years (not birthdays, obviously) than Fredric, so-"
And I was right, the rest of the cast were Babies, aside from Briggle, of course
And the Mabel, who wasn't Berit, was singing well
And Maddey, who was the stage manager, stopped her and claimed she wasn't good enough
And Briggle and I looked at one another, indicating
"She was doing splendidly, Maddey is just needlessly picky-"
And just as I went to spring melodramatically from behind the curtains
I was woken bloody up
Leaving me to wonder
What did my costume look like?
Did I know any of the cast?
Why did he choose me when he has other alumni?
(The lattermost question was also asked of Joey with Queertopia)
And most importantly, and most pathetically-
Why can't this happen in real life?

'Prayer-Like Poem Thing I Discovered' by Ravyn LaRue

I find things
In old notebooks
That I can’t determine whether it’s my writing
Or I’m quoting something I’ve forgotten
This is my newest discovery:

Drive and ambition to be worth time.
Intelligence to acknowledge the challenges I'll face
Humility to Accept Help
Life that's a Bottomless Swamp of Chaos

'Darius Valentine 2014' by Ravyn LaRue

Darius
I don't doubt you'll reject this
On sheer principal
Nevertheless
Since you kvetched over burgers and fries
About being alone
And needing a second half
As if you couldn't be whole on your own
Which I assure you, you can be
Not like I'm anywhere near a pretty picture
Of stability or mental health or anything like that, myself
Nevertheless you deserved a sort of something, I figured
So there's this, not like you'll care
I mean you'll probably reject this
On sheer principal
But I figured I should write this just in case

'Valentine Morning Haiku' by Ravyn LaRue

It's Valentine's Day
I brought chocolate for the world
But no one is here

'Baristas and Bus-Stop Creeps' by Ravyn LaRue

A barista here
Said I looked pretty today
So there, bus-stop creeps

'Two Julias' by Ravyn LaRue

There are two Julias
that I want to befriend

One was my friend from the start
but we drifted
far
She got an emptiness to her
that I thought was impossible
I thought she had everything I didn't
But one never knows
Now I see her sometimes
it is as if she doesn't recall
our attic talks
basement club-house
or flip-cam B-movies with ketchup for blood
I see myself like her
But I fight still for the light behind my eyes
whereas I think she's come to terms with
and decided she is content within
that darkness

The other
I never befriended in the time allotted to do so
I have no reason why
but now I feel like I understand
the longing and emotion and art of metaphysical things
she somehow manages to hold for a moment in words
and openly let go of
for the world to read
though far too few, I fear, would understand
I would like to befriend her
but forcing connection seems problematic
I'm hard enough for myself to handle
I can't bear to be burdensome to seemingly strangers
when I feel like I can barely keep myself from cracking
in the worst way
and grotesquely seeping onto my beloveds
Yet I admire her
and her writing helps me through

The two Julias are two faces
of the same longing to connect I feel
But I am not a Julia
I am just myself
searching through
feeling deep longing that I alone can satiate
perhaps
I cannot count on that
I cannot count on anything

Life Game-Plan As Of 2/13/2014:

This is certainly more for me than it is for any possible readers, but I decided to do this in blog post format, since long before any of my high hopes or subsequent disappointment with Columbia I tried to figure out my future via blog post, so I suppose I’m sort of trying to do that again.

Although holding myself to a bunch of standards in the public eye of the internet mightn’t be the best idea, making some semblance of a plan really shouldn’t hurt too much. Plus, if I put it somewhere easily accessible, I hope I’ll be more apt to follow through on it.

Here’s what I’m planning to do, in hopes of re-assembling my life and plans:

Springtime:

1.     Work really hard on the rest of this semester at MCTC

a.     Do all my assignments

b.     Keep up with my reading

c.      Study for tests and be sure to take them online

d.     Ride the bus earlier so I won’t be late

e.     Organize my school stuff into binders/folders

f.      Fix the planner with skull Duct-Tape

                                               i.     Actually put everything in the planner and use it

2.     Catch up on Journaling ASAP

3.     Perhaps audition for the spring play depending upon what it is

4.     Keep up with pills

5.     If things don’t improve by a designated time, perhaps see a real therapist

6.     Make Resumes

a.     A real resume

b.     An artsy but not necessarily performing resume

c.      Shape up my performing arts resume

7.     Memorize some Monologues

a.     Re-Memorize David’s Redhaired Death Monologue

b.     Memorize another classical monologue

c.      Memorize a humorous monologue

8.     Register for CONvergence if money is steady enough for that

9.     Keep Active

a.     Keep dancing

b.     Do yoga

                                               i.     Try Body Positive Yoga

(Everything not finished by the end of the semester goes on the summer list)

Summertime:

1.     Apply for a fulfilling artsy job

2.     Apply for some non-artsy jobs

3.     Work really hard at aforementioned jobs if I end up getting hired

4.     Decide for sure about what to make my major(s) (and minor(s) after MCTC

5.     Look into colleges to go to after MCTC

6.     Do lots of Exercising

a.     More Yoga

b.     Swim as much as possible

c.      Dance tons

7.     Catch up with and stay caught up with Journaling

8.     Write the poems I owe people

9.     Apply for Scholarships

- .      Keep an eye out for Auditions

a.     Audition if/when I find some

Autumn:

1.     Do really well with this semester

a.     Only take 12 credits

b.     Take a physical education class

c.      Maybe take Biology

2.     Maybe begin applying to colleges to go to after MCTC

3.     Stay caught up with journaling

'Songbird' by Ravyn LaRue

There's a boy
At my school
Named songbird
And I think
That's a beautiful name
I would name a child that
But I feel like he'd be laughed at
Which is horrible
So I would tell him
That doesn't matter
You are my songbird
And I love you
Not that that would matter to him
It's a lovely name nonetheless

'Okay Honey' by Ravyn LaRue

Okay
So here's what you're going to do, honey
Keep wearing jeans
Snuggle your fat into a size too small
Do it since you have no money for new clothes
Today, honey
You have to study for your science test
You'll likely fail
But it's better to say you crammed and tried
Than having to admit you just winged it
Don't do that, honey
And here
Forget that you fucked up this morning
Learn your lesson and carry on
But try not to cry
You do that enough already, honey
Wear your lipstick
It can be a talisman
To scare away the creeps that lurk at bus stops
They'll no longer feel obligated
To believe they're the first in this life to tell you you're pretty
If you look like you're trying, they might leave you be
Okay, honey
Bring that coffee to your lips
Chug and type
And type
And type
And type forever
There is so much sadness in living forever
Perhaps your depression means you'll become immortal somehow
Keep telling yourself that, honey
Don't diet
But try not to pay for food
You'll need that money further on
And so you mustn't be spending it on sandwiches and salads and soup
Okay, honey
Keep listening
To all the songs that make you feel longing
Longing may hurt your heart
But you're feeling
And longing may not be a colorful emotion
But at least it feels so deeply
Doesn't it honey
And journal
You're so behind, but you can catch up
Thirty one entries as of today
And time keeps marching on without you
So you better catch up
With that and everything else
Buy yourself a floral dress at some point, honey
And wear black tights beneath
And perhaps it'll make you feel better, maybe
Okay, honey
Sleep forever
No, don't do that
Even though that's what your mind keeps telling you to
I know you don't mean suicide
But that's what never waking up amounts to, you know
Don't do that
Okay, honey
Have full bangs
And dye them red as soon as you feel that redness again
It may not be soon
But let us both
Hope and pray
That the return of that feeling will be inevitable
In our lifetimes again
Okay honey
Go into mourning
Mourn whatever you so choose
Wear black
And let yourself feel this colorlessness for a while
Okay honey
And pray
If it consumes you
And you decide that's right
She treats you like an atheist
Which you really aren't quite
Believe what you want
And pray if it consumes you
Okay honey
Smile unadulterated
At the girls who smile first
There are people in the box you're in
Who might decide to love you
If only you smile back
Okay honey
And dance
At nighttime, as you do
Through your crowded living room
Hike up your neglige
And kick as high as you can
It doesn't matter if it's good
What matters is that you do not give up
Okay honey
Make yourself renewed
Your soul will stay
It has stayed through worse
Do not do anything insincere
But change is good
And you should experiment
The point in life is creating yourself
And creation takes many drafts
Even if you're fed up
With what draft you're in now
You're still the protagonist
As long as you keep going
Okay honey
Don't get a tattoo right now
You're hurting enough already
But brainstorm
In case your life ever gets calm enough
To comfortably allot yourself some pain
For the sake of self expression
Okay honey
Let your hair get to your shoulders
Then you can cut it again
If you so choose
Keep seeing shadows
And ghosts flying
You've always seen them
Don't become blind
Just because some want you to be fearful
Okay honey
Email back the Chicagoans
Be sincere
But do not bite them
You may not feel it
But you are safe now
And even if you haven't forgotten
Since I doubt you'll ever shed those memories
Try not to be as caustic as you feel you ought to be
You have places to do that
Do not scream at them
Whisper harsh to the galaxies
And let whoever's listening deal with their sins
Okay honey
Let that heart of yours
Palpitate for whatever she so chooses
Since she's so lazy as of late
When she wants to bark
Let her
Be it a soul
Or a book
Or lyrical dissonance
Whatever she chooses
Can be hers to pine for
Okay honey
I don't have the answers
But I wish I had them
Just do some soul searching
And keep moving forward
It'll hurt even more than it does now
You'll get used to it
Don't worry
Just keep on your path
Whatever direction it might take you
You're at the helm
And I am just a voice
It's all up to you
And as scary as that is
You also must realize
You hold your soul
And you can keep it safe
It may not sound it
But that's a good thing
Okay honey

'Meds Haiku for Androernie' by Ravyn LaRue

These meds are like death
I feel myself eroding
"Helpful" should not hurt

'Monday 3:23 Haiku' by Ravyn LaRue

I'm still not in bed
I have been submitting poems
That takes time you know

'Monday 2:03 Haiku' by Ravyn LaRue

I need to sleep soon
But I must take my pills too
And this song is good

'Angsty Self-Insert Coming Of Age Novel Penned By College Kid' by Ravyn LaRue

I never used to write poems just about myself
They were either love or hate over someone or something else
Now I'm just selfish and internal
And I write about external things's love or hate of me
They say college age writers often write tremendously self-indulgent books about themselves
And that's kind of what I'm doing, I guess, even though it's a series of poems
But what I can say in my defense is, well, at least I'm writing something

'Aww Diddums' by Ravyn LaRue

She says I'm not really depressed
I just have to get my shit together
I'm just pathetic and living in the past
And I'm merely hormonal and my feelings mean nothing
She is a big part of the reason I feel this way to begin with

'Inner-Monologuing To Bethie While Driving Past Trader Joe's' by Ravyn LaRue

I've gotten to the anger stage
This should have worked out
This should have been meant for me
But it wasn't and I just have to be alright with that
IT SHOULD'VE BEEN PERFECT
THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE PLACE FOR ME
WHY AM I BACK AT SQUARE ONE
I SHOULD'VE BEEN HAPPY THERE
WHY COULDN'T I HAVE BEEN
But I wasn't and I just have to be alright with that

'Red Hair' by Ravyn LaRue

I have red in my hair
But I don't want to draw it into self-portraits
Because I do not feel that redness
I am brown and grey and white
And I feel like a mountain of nothingness
That's taking up too much space
But I cannot leave
Because I am grounded here
By some belief that all people should exist
So I am here
Though only barely
So I will not draw the red that sits in my hair

'Oh, Hey, Hilarious' by Ravyn LaRue

Even when I decide
Ah, here is a time
When I can actually confide
Because they have to be accepting
They promised
When I tell of what actually exists
I am answered with
Oh how hilarious
Your childhood was an A&E Special
I mean, I don't want pity
But there is something to be said
For being listened to at least
If I can purge my past
Perhaps it'll help me get past this rut
Because now I'm realizing how it conditioned me
Yet when I mention it
I'm seen as bloody hilarious

'Be Afraid Of The Cold They'll Inherit Your Blood' by Ravyn LaRue

I have to keep from drifting music for a while
I can't allow myself to tune out
I have to keep from being a drifting soul
I can't allow myself to tune out

'Now Haiku' by Ravyn LaRue

I'm really sad now
And all I want to do now
Is write many poems

'Vengeance Victorious These Are The Glorious Days' by Ravyn LaRue

I am harmless
Except for once I am harmed

I found a blog
Where you can submit
Bigoted things said
To you or to others
While you're in college
And it's for things said by teachers, too
I have a flame of diabolical justice burning
Since many bigoted things were said
Both to me and to others
And this fire burns hard and bright
Especially since most of it
Was intersectionality meanness
Not just homophobia
Or racism
Or transphobia
Or misogyny
But all of them at once
And so I'll submit some quotes
Likely all the things
From my lengthy list of Columbia cruelty
And though unlikely
Perhaps then I'll have some solace

I am harmless
Except for once I am harmed

'Update On Emily's Suggestion For Me To Publish A Book Of Poetry' by Ravyn LaRue

I'm not ashamed of SBID
But I feel like now
Now that I know more things
And have felt more things
I could've made my first big thing
Something so much better
But with that said
I think I should try again
With a back up plan of sorts
When I'm 47
If self publishing still exists
And if I haven't done anything of that caliber already
I shall take what I think are my best poems
And I will use any money I might have
To self publish them
And I will make the cover something grand
Though I haven't the slightest what that might be yet
I feel like I should promise myself that victory
Even though
In three year's time
I might feel just as uncertain of that things right to exist
As I feel of SBID right now
But there are people in this world made happy by it
So who am I to argue
It is theirs now anyways
As, too, is anything else I make
Not that that's any enormous honor
But at least it is a something

'Bitter Black Coffee' by Ravyn LaRue

I really need to write about that day
Where everything seemed beautiful
And glamorous and perfect
There in the penthouse suite in Chicago
And everything went right the fuck to hell
But I don't have enough energy
Especially not for something
So so so emotionally draining
It makes my head hurt every time I tried
So I'll say this-
I drank black coffee to appease him
And nodded to his homophobia to appease him
And agreed to his subtle misogyny
Just to see my Dad and say hello
But he was more interested in me than my own father
And there was a whole bunch of bigotry exchanged
Subtly at my expense
And my dad just nodded along
Not because he wanted to see me or say hello
But because he decided a penthouse view of Chicago
Meant a whole ton more to him
Who can blame him
Why snarl and the hand that feeds fillet minion
Even if that means seeing one's own daughter
Choke on bitter black coffee
And stifle herself
To appease him

'Sorcerer' by Ravyn LaRue

I would never have suspected
When we met ages ago
Under such unfortunate circumstances
That you would become so truly dear to me
And now, in my failure in viewing your triumph
I feel like I've wronged you profusely
Though, of course, that was not my attempt
And I am very very sorry
But beyond my short-comings
There is this kindred-ship I feel with you
That I think was materialized in that thing up there
That first I saw and then I missed, of my own stupidity
No, but there's this thought
Immortalized in the show 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch'
(You'd like it, it's about a drag-queen rockstar's life)
The idea that the pain embedded in someone's soul-
Can be strikingly similar to pain embedded in yours
And I think, not just that, but that and our triumphs nurtured by SPCPA-
That is what makes us kindred spirits
And I am so glad to have you in my life, truly
And although this really isn't much of a birthday card/present/poem
I wanted you to know how glad I am to be your friend

'Una Mille' by Ravyn LaRue

Girl girl girl
Wake up and stop this all
You're stronger than this
You're alive aren't you
I'd be fed up with you if I could be
But I can't be
So I shan't be

Girl girl girl
I wish I could fix that soul of yours
But we aren't those sorts of spirits
So it will not be easy
But pick yourself and remember
You aren't as awful as you obviously think you are

Girl girl girl
I will speak to you later
But right now
You should post your writings
Take the bus home
And sleep
I will talk to you later
Alright?

'$9.95 Therapy' by Ravyn LaRue

Today is a Saturday
I just got finished with my Native American Studies Class
We watched a really gruesome movie
That’s a good thing
In my opinion
I now am at a Panera
I got a bread bowl and a caramel coffee
This’ll be much more expensive than my last therapy session
$9.95 I think, actually
So I better bloody open up
I told Mama in the car this morning
That I feel like I can’t really open up to her
Nor do I feel like I can rightly kvetch to any of my beloveds
Because I really don’t want to be burdensome
Since they have their own difficulties
And it’d be tremendously selfish to assume
That they’d drop everything to help me with my difficulties
When they have to first think of how to handle theirs
I feel like I should go somewhere
Leave the state
At some point soon
Because it’s nice to have a longing for something
I need my Santa Fe
Though I doubt mine will literally be Santa Fe
More like London or New York
But I looked into NYU and it isn’t as appealing as I thought
And the British education system is so different than the US
I have a bloody hard enough time transferring credits
From simple Chicago to simple Minneapolis
There’s a barely seven hour drive between the two
Not an ocean separating
Besides I really like Intermedia Arts
And there’s a gorgeously bohemian apartment
Above Espresso Royale
And across from an MCTC building
Not that I could buy it
But I believe, perhaps erroneously, that it’s healthy to have huge aspirations
Because right now I just feel like I’m drifting
And I’ve felt so much better in the past
When there’s some huge unattainable feat that I can climb up my mountains for
Today Pat put cyclical time on the board for us
And she made a near microscopic dot
She said
This small thing is your struggle
This great hoop is your life
Remember this for when you’re hurting
And I nodded along
Because that is a lovely belief to have
I try to shout out the things now
That always helped before
NO SUCH DETAILS WILL SPOIL MY PLAN- THAT IS THE KIND OF GIRL I AM
And that sort of thing, but to no avail
I feel like I’m at the low-point now
Right before my struggle to triumph song begins being underscored
I’m at the-
“Find a deep cave to hide in, in a million years they’ll find me, only dust-
And a plaque that reads here lies poor old Jack”
And the audience will be amazed with my sudden ability to be a contralto
And I’ll spring from the tombstone
Strip off my assumed identity to reveal my real identity
And go back to being as chipper and easily passionate as I always used to be
Fuck yeah!
I’ve been listening to ‘Homecoming’ by Greenday a lot
And as much as I can relate-
The chorus isn’t helping
It is as dismal as myself
And I really don’t believe that much negativity anyways
Yet I can belt along
Making comparisons in my mind
Saint Jimmy as HST and Jesus of Suburbia is Darius
And yeah- it works pretty well like that
I seem to have an inexplicable urge
To channel all my awful-as-I-now-am feelings into fictional characters
Not even my own- that’d be productive
I mean other peoples’s
But that might turn into acting, if I want to be optimistic
But I remember watching an interview documentary thing
In which Tim Burton talked of both Catharsis
And also the feeling of falling apart
And back then I saw both as admirable in an artist yet somehow not relatable
But now, I feel I’m basically nothing but all that
Yes- this coffee is so good!
I remember when I had a real therapist she offered to take me out for coffee
And I was 10 or 11 so I said no thank you
Because even though the cool kids were drinking coffee then
I really only just wanted a slew of smoothies
I have to listen to music that isn’t this
But I don’t want internet because I’ll get distracted
And in real therapy that wouldn’t be an option
It’d either be confiding or silence
So that should be the same for me
Mama seems to have decided that Joe should be who I confide in about this all
And maybe I’ve decided it too
But that’s because I know he knows of this himself
But that’s precisely the reason, also, that I shouldn’t bombard him with mine
When he, of course, already has his
I don’t remember what I post on here often
Because what I write and subsequently put
Are the same things, often, that I think of on the bus
Or before I go to sleep
I know I still have a bit of a censor
But I’m glad that it’s deteriorating and withering away
Because it would put me in bad situations, but I think being able to tell all
Would be a lovely thing
I think I would wind up singing to my Therapist
Sooner or later
Because I’d say something like-
I feel like Hedwig
And she or he or xe or whomever would say
Who is Hedwig and why do you feel like them
And I’d sing back
The fates are vicious and they’re cruel-
You’ve learned too late
You’ve used two wishes, like a fool
And then you’re someone you are not-
And I’d sing the rest of the entire anthology of songs
But that particular lyric made me break entirely
When I recorded myself singing it the night before I turned nineteen
I have video proof to prove it
Should I show it?
May as well-
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5BHKRJMpNA
I’ll regret this later
But I suppose I trust you,
So-
Please be kind
I can sing well sometimes, too
At least according to people I love
And really, to me
That’s all that matters
I don’t give a fuck about some huge Broadway casting agency
Or anything like that-
Prolonged eye contact
And an affirmation of pride
That makes me happier than nearly anything else on this earth
And it makes me believe
That I’m not as useless as I may feel right now
See, this is why I should have a real therapist-
Because it isn’t particularly proper to get crying in a coffee-shop
Though I’ve done it before
Many many many times
So this isn’t really anything new
But that breakthrough of sorts I brushed just now
It’d be so much easier if I could just go back to SPCPA
I wish I could
But they want their alumni to return triumphant
Not a bleeding wreck like me
But Ms.Hart told me I looked beautiful
And Ms.Hart told me that she’s glad Art is my religion
And in that aspect, she’s basically my confirmation sponsor
My “real” catholic confirmation sponsor posted homophobic bile on Facebook yesterday
It makes me feel as stupid, choosing her as a mentor, as I feel for choosing Columbia for a school
Sure I got confirmed and sure I passed my classes
But I wish the whole ordeal in both cases hadn’t actually happened
But I don’t want to waste wishes
So I suppose not
I would rather wish to be passionate again
I’d rather be passionate than happy, in all actuality
Because being passionate and making good things of that passion
That makes me happy
That’s art
Art makes me happy
I think that’s pretty obvious now, though
I am always baffled by which poems people like
I have to call my mum and brother-
Just like when I was in Chicago
He’s fucking up with school again
And I want to help him
But he actively chooses things I can’t participate in to write about
So even if I were the best writer in the world
I couldn’t really help
So I can’t help-
And it’s back to all being entirely up to him
I’d also sing the long rift in
Welcome Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooome
Because it really isn’t very comforting
Which fits well with what I’m feeling
It’s uneasy and sorrowful in a way that cannot be easily explained
I’ve come Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooome
Look I mustn’t get caught up in lyrics
I mean I do that all the time
And it’s better than zoning out, surely
But that isn’t helping the therapy session
I mean I know what songs speak to me
And why, if there is a why
Or at least sometimes why-
But anyways
I think that happens
I can easily put my brain onto music
So I don’t do anything or think anything outside of the lyrics
And on one hand that’s very very good
There are girls with glitter-eyelids walking up the stairs
I think there is some sort of girl’s sports thing going on
I hope they win-
I hope they all win
Yeah
Hunter S. Thompson has the same personality type as I, apparently
*Had
That’s sad that I have to do that
I still haven’t called Mama and Darius
But I should
So I will real quick
The internet doesn’t work here
Which sucks because I have homework
But it really proves beneficial to the prospect of this therapy session
I’m kinda surprised if anyone ends up reading this
It’s a long list of nothingness
Which probably isn’t particularly interesting
But I like seeing people fall apart
But what’s nice about that is that they’re fictional characters
When it’s real life all the sadistic fun of sorts is sucked out
Sadness is just sadness
As opposed to glorious beautiful artistic tragedy
Anyways
I still love the hell out of ‘Après Moi’
I like the Wendigo-sounding howl in the cover I bought
I still haven’t called Mama and Darius
I think I’m going to keep up with this, for the record
The fake therapy I’ve prescribed myself to
Because talking to an imaginary professional is better that talking to no one
I’ve done this for years anyways
Monologue-ing in my head about my problems to people
But the people in my brain are real ones
That I could imagine meeting in some odd place
And they ask me what I’m up to
And I tell them without even the slightest hint of having any sort of boundaries
Because, as I said, that might be nice
But it’s just monologue-ing
And that can only do so much
I want to watch the Wendigo movie-
It’s on my laptop
So I should
But I have real things to do
And real things to watch, for that matter
But perhaps if Darius wants to, we can watch it when I get home
I have to call, though, still
I figured out how to put it on i-tunes along with a NC episode
That has nothing to do with anything, though
I’m really good at tangential thoughts
Not that that’s a good thing to be good at, but I am
I claimed way too easily and way too soon that my struggle was over
At long long last
It’ll be at long long last when this is over
But people yell at me
You know what, babe- it’ll never be over
And I want to snarl at them, especially since they might be right
I’ll take the bus back at around 3:00-ish
For now I shall make a list of what I need to do
And write further here within the gaps
There’s a woman
A few tables over
Crying
And some jerk guy who she seems to trust
Is telling her to quit it
She can cry if she wants to
They’re physical fighting now
I’ve got to get out of here-

'My Type' by Ravyn LaRue

My actual real crushes

Come from when I see people

Being really really really passionate

Particularly about things they love

When they have something they can put their all into

So I suppose that's my "type"

I wouldn't care aside from for my poetry class

We're supposed to sort of know our "types"

So we can write charming romantic poetry

And I think that's the only real constant

Otherwise, I haven't a clue

But show me emotional intensity

And show me kindness

And I think you'll have my heart

For a tidbit of time, at least

'Stupid Bitch' by Ravyn LaRue

She calls me stupid
"Stupid
Stupid
Stupid bitch"
As I ask her
To give me back the Dean's List letter
That she stole from me
...
She doesn't even see the irony in that

'It Isn't Funny And It Isn't Fair' by Ravyn LaRue

I don't mean to be patronizing
Because you're an intelligent individual
And this proved it more than nearly anything else I've ever seen you make
And that is why I feel so bad that it didn't survive
Because it was beautiful
And I've never been this torn up over the fate of something fictional
I think partially because there are bits rooted in reality
Backstory things, just like Cabaret or HAIR or other things my heart breaks over
And if either of those had been killed early on it would've been tragic to me
But I wasn't alive then, and I'm alive now
So this is artistically tragic to me
I read online that you've been drinking more
It's just some odd anonymous source, not to be trusted, for all I know
But things like that scare me
Because I can only venture to guess how much that meant to you
And I don't even know what a fate like that for something beloved would do to me
Bad bad things, I know that much
And that, once again, is another reason why the demise of this fictional reality hurts me
It kept me from those bad bad things
But it couldn't be kept from those things itself
Art could be seen as inanimate, but I think there's more to it than just that
And I'm inexplicably angry for that reason
That something that obviously meant so much to you-
Which was something that came to mean an absolute ton to me-
Could be killed by the same people spoken of who only want to live in the past
Closed-minded to the possibilities of some bright beautiful future
I've had my character arc and I've gotten to the point now that I've surpassed some struggle
I have enough momentum, that as I keep going on, I shouldn't have to keep looking back
I still am stealing glances
And I have letters to write to people I must confide in, in order to tie up those loose ends
And one of those people is you
But my mind's all muddled up-
Especially given recent occurrences, that make the art I mourn for more poignant-
And obviously obviously yours likely is too
This is what I get for taking it upon myself to embed even more meaning into something that already makes me sad
But the things that make me saddest also inspire me the most, like Cabaret and HAIR, which I afore mentioned
I suppose that's the silver lining
Though that really isn't all that lovely for you
But I'll write that letter, and hopefully, my words will be meaningful enough to be a small glimmer of the silver lining for you
Because you deserve one- you really really really do