Saturday, March 2, 2019

Hold it Down

"Hold it Down" by Andrea Lodge

Now I get it kid
It’s really the reason we do any drugs
To get away from it all for while
Not the ‘it all’ everybody else runs from
The ‘it all’ like we do.
That ‘it all’ inside.

There are weird scars
And I’m sure there are weird stars
And I’ll burst someday
I’m telling you, I’ll do it
I’ll fucking burst!

You were the worst and then
there were more and was more
and they wouldn’t quite and 
they just came and there I 
was and here I am and maybe
I could’ve stopped maybe I
should’ve found a way to 
stop it but I didn’t stop
it and neither did you or 
would you or I think could
you left you and them are 
gone but I’m still here

I’m still here.

It’s shaking in my skull again
Teardrops falling inward 
Hear the slosh of the liquid?

I was expecting something
I would never expect.

Sometimes I’m Eileen
Once upon a time I was Margaret
Andge, Andy, Ann, Annie
And Vivian

No Rain came
And the bee did her dance
And I told that red-headed freak
That everyone said I resembled her
And he acted sick at the thought
Of me in that costume
But in the Dark Room
Of Shop Class
With that nameless teacher
He had no problems 
With shoving his hands up my shirt.

I refuse to exist automatically
Or let anybody leave into smoke
Into poofs
Into the ether
Into something not the ether.

Sin tastes like velvety blood
I need confessional
And I am a tick
A mosquito
A mother fucking vampire

He shadow boxed me 
And I criminalized myself
But that’s how those things go
As kids
Just kids, man.

Don’t avoid me
Don’t ignore me
I’m sore inside
And I miss easily
And cry.


Bio:  My name is Andrea, though my closest peoples call me Ann.  I'm from Philadelphia where I live with my almost husband and two disabled cats, Budgie (because he's all smushy and budged up) and Loki, because he was an evil mofo when we got him, but who has since adopted the name Poki, as he now weighs 20 pounds and is sweet (thanks to his balls no longer being there) and he just slow-pokes around the house, sweeping the dust off of the hardwood floors with his hangy belly.  He is also sometimes 'Pokapotamus.'  Enough about odd cats.  

I was once a middle and high school English teacher, but the last time I lost my job, I sort of became a homebody, introvert, with a bit of a fear of leaving the house; opposite, complete opposite of the wild woman I once was.  I lost that job because of mental illness causing me to call out one time too many.

I write tons and tons of poetry.  I'd say that ink is in my blood and I've been making up stories since I could hold a pencil; tiny scraps of paper, held together with a staple that say things like 'Mommys are love,' and shit like that.  All I've ever wanted in this life was to be a writer with a capital 'W' and I might just be on my way.  That's what I'm hoping for.  I also write many Non-fiction shorts, I'm working on a memoir, I plan to start a novel soon, and for the first time in 15 years, I've started writing short fiction stories.  Enough about me.  Just hoping to make something of this writing thing.  Not for money.  Just for me.  Like I said, it's all I've ever wanted to do with my life.

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