let's go outside. the woods look good to me.
grab my hands.
i want to spin so fast.
throw my head back.
AND SCREAM.

it's dumb to be scared of things. holds me back so much, and i'm scared about
every aspect of my life right now. but its 93 degrees out and i can't worry about my feelings.
whatever they may be.
about anything and everything.
both lacking and overwhelming.
ebbing and surging like the tide.
that i'm going to go dive into right now.

!

she's just shy

the miasma of frost and greys
gives way to my dreams
of jammed windows and spider-webbed screens
of mulch covered t-shirts
and fresh young greens
sea grass pillows for my wild schemes
with the sounds of waves yawning
while those stars wink and these eyes gleam
sharing air as sweet as ice cream
i know what this means...Y

now it is.

Rose petal lips
for my kaileidescopic eye.
Ethereal oils smearing
moonless night skies
blue and lavender.
Pages of head too heavy
hand to heart
heart too fast
fast to run?

magic of disappearing
art of illusion.

Lust is cheap
love is rare
Trust is treasure
glass hearts can scare
is this clear?
As dusty roads and summer haze.

"Try not to remember any of this. It's not important."

I've Seen Jerusalem.

I like the edge
but heights make my head float a little.
I can walk a line
but there is no doubt I'll trip.
My feet are big
and I never had balance.
Mistakes follow me like pigeons
but I'm the one who leaves breadcrumbs.
I always colored outside the lines.
In ink that can never erase.
So don't be surprised when I hold a flame
to that edge
until its fire.

My head was hurting so much when I drove to you last night. The cd was the right volume and the hum of my exhaust was almost soothing, but the pounding feeling in the back of my brain was almost too much. I took the snaking black roads through giant doll houses and rolling sea grass dunes. At the top of the hill, I saw you and you were what I was feeling inside, wild. You reached up, punching into the air, throwing spray and brine. You swirled and threw yourself against the rocks that were plunked into your center, all around. The wind was whipping when I got out of my car in that empty parking lot. I knew I shouldn't be here alone, it wasn't safe. But I wanted nothing near me, I wanted no one to answer to, I wanted no one to know I existed. I knew something was wrong and I always think you have the answer.

In my sandals, I climbed over the guard rail and onto the rocks, shaking. I sat down and held my legs close as I watched you roll and dip, crash and recede. I couldn't see the horizon, which made me feel like you were endless. So I told you in my mind what was going on with me, and I told the lighthouse what I was scared of, and I told the small shack on the rock island what I wanted most in life. I whispered into the stars what I didn't believe in, and what I did. And you were all the best audience I've ever had.

But I didn't speak a word. I hope I don't ever need to.
I think I'll see you soon though.

Bubbles and the Details.

The steam clings to the window.
Billions of little dew droplets
clear baby marbles.
The steam carries the scent
of vanilla mint tea
and red velvet cake.
The steam wafts the music
and my men sing me my songs
of escape, renewal, and sometimes
the heart.
The steam makes my body heavy
and my skin lobster red.
Pretty soon the drain will swallow
my self indulgent lounging and thoughts
but for now
they leave me feeling
warm and full, and content?
I think I'm getting there.

It's nothing.

What.
Am.
I.
Not.
Getting?

IT'S RAINING AND COLD I SAW A SNOWFLAKE TODAY AND IT'S APRIL. WHAT IS GOING ON WHEN YOU WAKE UP AND STILL FEEL ASLEEP? WHEN YOU WAKE UP

and you're back at square one?

I bet it's nothing.

Hit me like Bricks.

I could not wake up this morning. The most awful dreams kept swallowing me back up, but I was so close to consciousness I lost the ability to tell what was really happening. Finally I broke free of them when I thought I was lost in a hostel on a tricycle with Portugese police after me.

When I walked upstairs and no one was home I felt relieved, then instantly lonely. So incredibly lonely. At this point I just want to talk to someone, sit close and have a very long conversation with someone I care about. I don't even know what I would say, what words would fly from my lips but I know once I started I wouldn't want to stop. It's such a different and bizarre feeling, but I am sick of always being the quiet one, not even "quiet" but the reserved one I guess, about everything.

I am angry with myself for proving yesterday that I am still so young. I am still very naive. I am still putting myself in bad situations that cause me stress. I saw a lot of things jeopardized running through my head, and all of a sudden I cared a little bit more about the people and things and goals I have in my life. And I feel like I have been an awful and selfish person for a very long time now and I want that to change. I miss my family. That was the first thing I really thought when I got out of that car yesterday was " I miss my family". I wonder if all idiots in that same situation instantly think of that.

I need to make myself some boundaries. I need to mature a little bit more. I paint a lovely picture in my mind that only I can control myself and my fate and I have it all figured out and I dont need to live by the rules of this world, of the "American Dream". I embrace my unconventional views and ways of thinking but at the same time they blur me from the reality of where I come from. I think sometimes I like to think I was hatched out of an egg, that I don't have to answer to anyone but myself because of the abandonment I have felt before. But I definitely have dished out that same sense of abandonment to so many in the past, and even now. I want to balance. I need to balance. I want my family back in my life again, they've been on the outside peering through foggy glass for far too long. I have to balance what is important, and what really matters. Family is a responsibility too, and a precious gift that I no longer intend to ignore.

My dad once gave me a rosebush to plant when I was about twelve or thirteen. A little note was in it that said "Pretty roses for a pretty girl", his wonderful attempt at some play on words. I found that note when I was fifteen and held a lighter to the corner of it, wanting it to catch on fire. It was slow to catch but when it did, I panicked and I put it out quickly. Only the corner was blackened and I tucked it away, knowing I was acting out of irrational anger. I found that a few nights ago and I felt I had come so far since blackening that edge. But then I realized, there were no roses, the plow had ripped them up 3 years ago and I told my dad I would buy the next rosebush. But all I still have is that blackened little notecard.

I want them to be pink and little like they were last time. And I want them to grow nice and slow like I still am. And I want only my Dad to help me plant them. And I want my mom to make me lemonade on the warm May day when I probably do this. Then I want us to go out to lunch or to play a board game and have us all hate it but laugh at the same time. And I want Teddy to come home so we can all sit home at night and watch bad reality TV and laugh until we cry. Like we used to.

Things changed alot but it isn't too late to fix them. I don't think I have to say a word about anything, just show that now I'm ready to not be such a background figure in this family anymore.