Cigarettes: How to Keep Your Guard Up Around Non-Smokers/122416

You promised me the world,
when the world wasn’t yours to give away.
You promised me everything,
when you had next to nothing.
A broken boy whose love
always had conditions,
I just forgot to see them,
until your love was no longer mine.
I’ve always thought
I could win you back,
that if I love you hard enough
you’ll forget not to love me.
You said you were gonna buy me a book;
you never ask me to leave
as I crawl into your bed some time before dawn.
Sometimes you hold me
so damn tight, I can’t move.
Or when you trace every inch
of my body with your fingertips,
interlace you fingers with mine,
make me feel alive,
If that isn’t love,
then I don’t know what the fuck is.
A broken boy, trying so damn hard
to be a man.
I wonder if my love
will show you how to grow up.
Or will it keep you

Duck, Duck, Goose, and We Go Around Merrily/120416

People don’t build relationships.
Relationships build themselves,
often accidentally.
That’s the beauty of it.
And last night
I saw the Christmas lights
on your bedroom curtains.
It reminded me of a dream
I once had about us.
It was the one with the stars,
billions of them and the distance
between us that didn’t exist.
The distance does not exist,
except when you create it.
This distance you fabricate
to keep yourself safe.
But I could keep you
or at least try my damnedest
On the nights no one’s looking
we look like we fit,
as you curl your body
around me
and I’ve stopped wearing socks to bed
just to feel your cold feet.
Sometimes you call me baby
or interlace your fingers with mine,
those are the moments
you forget what we are
and get lost
in what we could be.
You can keep calling a duck
a goose,
but she knows what she is.



they’ve got nothing in common except the straw
and maybe the way their insides look
but still they make a cute pair
as they sit side by side
in front of a fire
that hasn’t burned in a while
and his face is the color
of her dress
as if she colored him that way
he’s tattered and torn
she’ll offer to mend him
and sweep his floors
hoping he’ll remember
she is his home


I’d ask about the Death Mark,
then every other tattoo
you’ve gotten since the last time
I saw you naked.
And I’d want to hear all the stories
even the ones from before.
I’d tell you about
the tattoos I want to get
and about the birthday mark
on my left leg that I didn’t know
I had because I have never been
as tan as I got this summer
and I’d remind you of a scar
on the same leg, perhaps you’ve forgotten.
We could talk about
the scars I haven’t gotten
and any of yours
that are new.
Finally, I’d stop undressing
you with my eyes and
begin undressing you
with my hands.
We’d stop just short
of going all the way
because that’s how I want
it to be.

R1, R2, and C

soul mates. what a heavy phrase. i know that i have met three of my soul mates. i do not know how many soul mates there are for my soul. i do know that i miss all three of my known soul mates fiercely.

the first soul mate i met was a girl in high school. we had anatomy class together. she was a vegetarian. except for bacon. since high school we have lost contact and reconnected several times. i always miss her, yet i have the hardest time tracking her down. instead she finds me. it’s been a while since we’ve talked. she has a son just five days older than my J. whenever she resurfaces, we’ll catch up on the time we’ve lost and maybe this time we won’t lose touch. we fall in love with souls, not genitals. i love this woman and i could see us living together and raising our sons together, and when the boys grow up and go to college, we’ll get kittens and we’ll grow into old cat ladies.

the second soul mate i met was R. if you’re an avid reader of this little blog, you know a bit about him. i was able to look at is eyes last week, they are exactly as i remembered them. we talked for something like an hour, we had things to talk about, but neither of us could stay on topic so the conversation drifted all over, it was beautiful. it is those conversations, however rare they are, that remind me that R is a mate to my soul. he is intertwined in me. if ever i tried to remove him from my being it would cause me sure and sudden death i am certain.

the third soul mate i met was C. what can i say about C? he caught me so off guard, i didn’t have time to post the “F*** Off” sign back up on my forehead. he was under my skin the first time we talked, even though it was months before we talked again and i’m sure he didn’t even remember the first time, it was kind of inconsequential. the second time we talked, the first by his count, apparently he had to work up the courage to talk to me. he had noticed me for days, weeks perhaps, and though i looked like someone he’d like to talk to. he was shyer than i realized and quiet in general, although he never ran out of things to say when i was around.

August 27th

i don’t count much in this category
but the “almost”s number up
there was the time i almost walked away
into nothingness
not caring if you ever found me
there was the time i almost gave it away
to someone i didn’t even love
not caring what might happen next
there was the time i almost quit school
not caring if i’m ever anything more
than helpless

eight years ago today though
i did not make a mistake
i did not make the biggest mistake of my life
eight years ago today tonight
i spent my first hours with you
i will always look back on that night
as the night everything changed

and six years later
everything changed again
and i can’t count that
as a mistake either
because that would mean
that i regret
and to regret would be to be

so here’s to non-mistakes
and to second chances
chances i’ve stolen and
chances you’ve given me

i pray for us nightly
and you shatter my hopes weekly
but it’s okay
i still love you

In response to Mistake.

best laid plans

i’ve just created a new rule for myself:
to only ever go to bed before ten PM
under one of two circumstances,
one- i’m seriously ill
two- there is a man i love beckoning
me to bed before ten PM.
tonight, neither is the case
so i’ll stay awake and upright.
but of course, i break
my own rules from time to
not this time,
perhaps some other
and i remember the time
you slept in the living room
when i couldn’t sleep
just because you wanted to
be near me.
and i was an idiot
and didn’t see how
we were falling apart,
or maybe i did and i
was already too far gone
to care.
“i (only) miss you late at night,
when i can’t sleep
and get way too honest.”
but the only part
isn’t true,
i always miss you.
even when, no, especially when
you’re still standing
right in front of me
and my front door
saying goodbyes to little humans
with messy hair.

considering things that begin with letters

i turned my computer on just now, thinking i had a lot to say and now it all seems to have left me. there are so many thoughts in my head, it is often difficult to isolate them or group them into a cohesive post. i’ve been thinking about R a lot, but i guess that’s not really a new thing, i always think about him. one thing that drives me nuts about him (not in a good way) is that he seems to be two different people- reserved and businesslike when his girlfriend (fiance/wife/idk what she is these days) is around, then open and personal when she’s not around. when she’s around he usually has sunglasses on, when she isn’t he’s more likely to be bare-eyed. when he’s alone he lingers, with her he rushes. alone he tells me about his life, with her it’s like i’m a stranger. i often realize that i am a horrible person, one reason being that i actually sit and think of people i could introduce R’s girlfriend to in hopes that she would fall for them and break up with R. and then i think about ways R and i’s interactions would change and how life really would be so much simpler for me if R did not have a girlfriend. i honestly do not want the girl to experience any heartache, but it would be really great if she could just drift away from R and into the arms of someone else and totally forget about R. i know R would be pretty torn up about it, but i also know that his sons mean the world to him so he would push thru the struggle and create the best life that he can for his boys. as much as i want to be with R, i don’t think i would swoop in and try to get with him as soon as he became single. i desperately wish he would spend some time being single. he has never been single in his adult life, he met me when he was 16 and we got serious right away, we were married just over month after his 18th birthday, when we split up he was 22 and got with her right away, he’ll be 25 this November and has never been single. i’ve been single for almost 2 years straight, the one brief relationship that i have had since R and i split up was ridiculous and i honestly forget sometimes that it even happened. but i truly believe that being single for a length of time as an adult is important to a person’s identity, it’s vital to be sure that you know who you are. in these two or so years i have learned who i am, i have gained confidence that i don’t think i ever had, i have discovered beauty in places i was too afraid to look before. i have seen that my faith was misplaced, found where i left it, misplaced it again, repeated that cycle a few times, and am currently working on putting it in a secure location, it’s a process. but i have not learned everything there is to know about myself, so do i really know me? i still do not know what sort of food i like, where i would travel if i could go anywhere, what my favorite color is, what career i will pursue, what my favorite alcohol is, and i still cannot use fire (literally, that’s not a metaphor). maybe i like Chinese fast food, but i find myself eating it less and less, so maybe i don’t. i’m attracted to Oregon, but i doubt there’s anything real there for me. pink used to be my color, but now i find myself drawn to purple, but i feel most confident when i wear red, but i know what red means, and i don’t wanna be that girl. i know i will be a teacher, but i cannot settle on who i will teach, and i cannot settle on how i will teach or what the subject will be. i do not understand the point of drinking alcohol, so i don’t find myself doing it often, i like hard root beer and i’ll sip a PBR if someone brings them to a BBQ, but i do not seek alcohol out and i do not purchase it, i do not need it, it does nothing for me. i tried to light the pilot on my mom’s stove a few weeks back, i let two matches burn down to my fingers because i am terrified i will die in a natural gas explosion, in my entire life i’m sure i’ve only lit about five matches, i’ve ignited a lighter maybe twice, i cannot use fire and i cannot play with it. i want to learn to run, i want to read classic literature, i want to play guitar, i want to be a member of a church, i want to have someone to call at two in the morning when i can’t breathe, i want to purchase stacks of composition books and fill them up with words that feel like life, with my words and other people’s words, with the songs i sing quiet on the bus because i don’t want the cute driver to hear me, but my heart says sing so i gotta sing, and loud at the bus stops because they’re only strangers. i want to matter. if we don’t matter, then why should we want to carry on? i want to carry on. damn, i want to carry on. a little boy whispered something to me not two hours ago, “Mommy, I love you”, real quiet because he didn’t want to wake up his brother. i’m not one to say you should stick around if you really don’t want to, but i have realized that i want to stick around and i don’t need to count any reason past one because one is enough for me. one means the world. so here is my one reason to carry on- i do not want to break my children’s hearts, i do not want to be only a story they hear from their daddy and relatives, i want to be their hero, i want to be there for their skinned knees and first days of school and little league games and disappointments and math homework and first loves and proms and so much more, i can’t imagine missing it and i can’t imagine my boys not having a mom thru it all. i know i’ve lived a damn good life so far and i will continue on, and i know i’ve got a damn good life ahead of me too. and i’m rambling, but sometimes you just gotta ramble.