Untitled 052519

Sitting on our neighbor’s couch

Kinda drunk

Sure if I lay my head down

I’ll fall asleep

And she’ll embarrassingly wake me

I’m waiting for you

To come home

To bring our little ones

I’m afraid I’ll fall for you tonight

Crawl into your bed

Beg you to love me

Or at least pretend you do

I miss you

It’s not the voice of the wine

It’s me

The very heart of me

All of me loves all of you

Every damn bit

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Untitled (041318)

failing and flailing thru this life grasping for your hand but i can’t find it in the dark even though it is clearly right in front of me and you’re waiting and waiting for me to interlace my fingers with yours so that you can keep my head above water for me because it seems that you don’t want me to drown afterall perhaps because you still want to put me back together but how can you even do that when you don’t know where i’ve hidden all the glass and bloody words that used to be my heart you’re collecting them all in a pretty vase but i can never be whole again because somethings will forever be lost some girls will forever be broken and shredded

Glimmer (041819)

You give me a glimmer of hope

And I do not believe

It is false hope

Your hands linger when they shouldn’t

Where they shouldn’t

If you’re a little drunk

You’re more honest than you intend

You said you believe in me

I believe you – you were drunk

I thought about hugging you

And you hugged me

As if you knew I was thinking it

We speak without saying words at all

Your eyebrows-

And I close my eyes

And you’re right – I know

You tell me everything

When anyone looking in

Would’ve thought you were silent

tell me what you thought about when you were gone…

i’m the original grass

that wasn’t green enough

and i don’t understand

why you’re singing

one of my favorite songs

but you’re still sleeping

away from home

two nights a week

i’m not the one

and you’re never in love

i’m never honest

and she’ll never be enough

every other line

is a lie

and i’m still broken

still in love

with a backpack full

of bricks

waiting for you

and i to lay them down

Frantic (041918)

My heart beats faster

Than it should

As i lay next to you

And i notice a change in your breath

It’s ’cause we both know we want more

Than just laying next to each other

And we know we’ll give in

To a certain point

Suddenly your lips are nearly touching

My lips

And you make no move to move away

And i ask you if you wish you could kiss me

You take a few nervous breaths

Before you answer-

Yes and more (i’m paraphrasing)

And then we let everything happen

Except the kiss

And everything else you said

Micro

Like all the little things you do

How you ask me how i’m doing

How you encourage me to get out of bed

How you let me know when you’ll be home

How you celebrate my small wins

Though those are even few and far between

i lose more than i win

Always failing

And i forget to see

Your micro love

And all that you do for me

True love isn’t in the grand gestures

It’s in the everyday ones

And in the way you softly say,

“hey”

Foreign (041018)

it’s like we don’t even speak the same

language anymore

like we’re strangers

who’ve always known each other

but pretend not to

because being true

telling the truth

we would risk getting hurt

i used to be able to take that risk with

you

used to let you in

but maybe i did it for the wrong reason

i thought if i let you in

that you would do the same for me

always expectations

how do i let go

of wanting you to love me?

Suddenly (031018)

And suddenly I loved you.

I know I should have always,

I just didn’t though.

You loved me too soon

and I loved you too late.

If only we could have met in the middle.

And suddenly we are finding out what we mean

to each other.

I can’t hear the truth because it will break

my heart

my hope

my “us”.

I hold on too tight;

teach me to let go.

Stepping Stones, part 2

i am twenty years old. the year is two thousand and nine. i am wearing a white dress that i designed and sewed myself. i am not happy with the dress. i don’t like how it fits and i don’t like the way i look in it. i am frustrated and angry that one person is not at my wedding. instead of being glad about all the people who are here to celebrate my special day, i fixate on just one person. i should have had my eyes fixed on my groom. i do not notice the way he looks at me. for him i am the only person that exists today. later i will see it in photographs- the way he looked at me on that day. by the time i see it we are both beginning to believe it is too late.

 

i am twenty four years old. the year is two thousand and fourteen. i can’t breathe. i didn’t see this coming. i did not believe this would happen. R is breaking up with me. he has fallen in love with someone else. this can’t be real. this isn’t happening. i can’t breathe. please don’t leave me.

 

i am twenty four years old. the year is two thousand and fourteen. i am single for the first time in my adult life. i am trying to put the pieces of my life back together and move forward. i want to be someone who my sons can be proud of. i have decided that i want to be a teacher. i have enrolled in college classes for the first time in over three years. i believe i can do this. i will not fail this time, this is what i tell myself.

 

i am twenty seven years old. the year is two thousand and sixteen. R is single and has an extra bedroom. he has asked me if i would like to move in, as his roommate. we’ve started having sex again; we are friends with benefits. it sounds like a good plan.

 

i am twenty eight years old. the year is two thousand and seventeen. i have just gotten my first paying job of my adult life. it is at a yarn store. i am excited about the possibilities of this. it is a step in the right direction. a stepping stone.

Stepping Stones, part 1

i am fourteen years old. the year is two thousand and four. my mom is away visiting my grandpa. he has cancer. he will not live much longer. i am feeling so alone. i miss my mom. i have already decided not to return to public school this year. it is August. i am sitting alone on the porch. there are no walls; it has not become my bedroom yet. i see a small piece of broken plastic in the dirt. it is sharp. i am sharp; if anyone gets close to me my anger and sadness will cut them. i pick the plastic up. i press it into my flesh, near my knee. i drag it against my skin again and again. i am bleeding. i lie when asked what happened. scraped myself on something. it was an accident.

 

i am seventeen years old. the year is two thousand and seven. my parents drove me to Burbank. we carried my things up to my third floor dormitory. at some point my dad cries. he does not want me to leave home. he has held on too tightly and i’ve been afraid to leave because i don’t want to break his heart. but at the same time i am angry at him because i want to be allowed to spread my wings and fly. i want to stop being his emotional crutch.

 

i am eighteen years old. the year is two thousand and eight. i meet a boy. he is really sweet. i tell myself i do not want a boyfriend. i want to be just friends with this boy. in a week’s time he will be my boyfriend.