It’s exhausting That the room darkens with sunset Lights turned down low and the whole house quiet Shadows creeping along the walls Dancing with the spiders in the corners Standing over you when you wake After finally dozing for half an hour And then eyes wide open They give me Ambien
It’s exasperating That the vice around your Lungs tightens With every breath And you’re aspirating And you’re counting breaths And grasping at air And grasping for straws Because there’s no stillness They give me Xanax
It’s distracting That I keep watching her lips move But I don’t hear the words she says Because her lips are forming them all wrong And I don’t even know what she’s talking about Big appellations blanketed in familiar pronouncements The letters all jumbled in my head A million different TV stations blaring at once And I can’t find the remote They give me Adderall
It’s painful That your body fights When you exercise, When you move, When you don’t exercise, When you don’t move When the pain creeps in every day And settles into aching bones Like the spider in the attic darkness Embracing its babies in the corner cobwebs They give me Vicodin And a piss test
It’s depressing That good news comes in little bubbles Delicate and wavering, and then they pop And happiness is just a mask you wear On the days you feel like getting out of bed They give me Zoloft
And the blanket you pull over half-open eyes
On the days you don’t and Prozac
But you do it anyway
And the smile is so practiced, so deceitful That you almost fool yourself and Paxil
Just noted that my old Memories piece was showing dead images. Hopefully this will fix. Will always be one of my favorite pieces because it’s so incredible raw.
This a very old poem that I hold extremely dear to my heart. It’s 99% sheer imagination, at least it was in 2005 when I wrote it. I have since experienced much of it, but I jut really wanted to share it with you (collectively). You’ve been very receptive of my other writing and I look forward to hearing your feedback for Memories.
This is a very old poem that I hold extremely dear to my heart. Its 99% sheer imagination, at least it was in 2005 when I wrote it. I have since experienced much of it, but I just really wanted to share it with you (collectively). You’ve been very receptive of my other writing and I look forward to hearing your feedback for Memories.
Outrageously idle
Sweet taste of sweat lingering on your lips
As far from monotonous pleasure as the
complimentary shades of the rainbow
Insanely short no matter how long
breaking your concentration
Leaving me hungry for more, more, more
Insanely mesmerizing, captivating
However meticulous your touch
The tingling of cool fingertips pressed against
burning desire
The contour, each curvature, of my face
Lingering
Similarly impersonating the sweet and sour
salty taste
Hands clasping together with intensity
Becoming one with emotion, passion
Meeting, strong feelings developing
(graduating, then defined as anything but platonic)
Coming together
intimately close without a reasonable doubt
Outrageously idle
before and still lingering
after, a lonely shudder of my shoulders
a simple cold chill dancing down my spine
after
The sky is much lonelier than I remember
Maybe I used all the stars on you
I looked for you on the sidewalk in the distance
But the streetlamp glared upon empty ground
Standing solo, dominating the darkness–
maximum wattage shining brightly down
Sharp and cruelly stealing the night
Taunting the ease I already lack
Dancing between the cracks in the concreteDodging the pockets of shadow; nervous
Dancing alone, like a child who knows no better
But loneliness is an awkward dance
The twilight overwhelming my one-track mind
Equilibrium thrown about without regard
Like a ship on uneasy seas
Lacking a much-needed stability
or regularity
Like the rays of light beginning to dance along
Encircling my body like a celebratory tribal dance
Spinning, dizzy–
falling on hands and knees, a scrape and blood rising to the skin
Assuming a submissive position, fitting
Comfortable, a fleeting deja-vu
Darkness enveloping the lonely avenue
Light and fog intermingling, mixing, consummating
Lifting, like a well-directed horror movie
Light and fog floating through the chilly air with no purpose
No sense of direction or predilection, or destination
It settles, and calm returns
Equilibrium restored, sanity obtained–if it ever was
A star, speeding through the sky, 1-2-3
make a wish
Clutching at distant hopes and memories
I open my eyes, and there
You stand.
The light from the streetlamp glowing, settling gently
On your head like a halo and with a blink, it’s gone
But you remain.
And no embrace is quite sweet enoughbut of course, we try, as our worries fade into the darkness.
*Note: much of the aesthetic formatting is lost upon posting to WordPress.
The corners of her mouth upturned
Gentle creases of a soft, friendly smile in the making
Solely productive
But the single mental capture that will last through 31 moons, or more
Slowly forgetting
but all the same, sweetly remembering
As the human mind often tricks and trembles
A somber photographic capture
A glimmer of hope illustrious wonder behind bright eyes
Fading, yet promising a forever glow
A forever know
A forever recognize-and-turn-the-page
Warming sensation spreading outward from your core
to your trembling fingertips
Gracing only the most aesthetic scraps in a book
Bent edges encircling an angelic face
a captured glance
a 1-2-3-and-say-cheese
Gracing your pocketbook, thoughtfully placed
between the constantly-used charge card
and the envy green wad of cash
The corners of her mouth upturned
Gentle creases of a soft, friendly smile
in the making
An ounce of perfection–caught, stolen
An aura of perfection, never ever lost
*Note: unfortunately due to the formatting in WordPress, this prose loses a lot of aesthetic alignment. If you’re ever around and want to see the original layout, feel free to ask. It does add significantly to the piece with the instructional pauses and outlined observation.
A little crystal ball encasing all my dreams, my visions of a bountiful future
I’d like to jump inside that three-dimensional sphere of innocence, of resurrection, of inference
Maybe you could take me by the hand and we’d count to three
One-two-three
And then we’d leap, eyes closed, feet first, into the bliss of spontaneity
Specificity
Emotional roller coaster to the top
I hope that you’re willing to make that leap with me
Together we can escape reality
Take that risk
We could count to four if you’d like, or even ten or one hundred
And seventy-seven
We could jump with eyes wide open
We could sprawl across space as we fell into the encasement of the future, the life inside
a crystal ball
no life insurance included
Perhaps when we’re on the inside we can look out into reality, into yesterday
Then again, I think we’d be happier if we closed the door
Fogged up the windows with our deeply internal passion and seventeen kisses top to bottom
No more pain or tears or any emotion undesirable
No emotion undesirable anymore
Inside we could walk, we could walk anywhere and everywhere
Hand in hand
We couldn’t pay mind to the end of the beginning…or the beginning of the end
We shan’t pay mind to such an illusion, an illusion of inconsistency, an illusion illustrated across time and space and illustrious insider indolence
Perhaps when we’re outside we can look in but we don’t have to go outside if you don’t want
Perhaps you won’t be afraid to live because you’re afraid to die
Because perhaps death will not remain the same
An impacting ending, a loss, death will mean nothing anymore for it will vaporize
into the sky, a clear acid that will float to the heavens with no intention to return
Better than death as we know it, that we idolize, and indecide, like genocide
However, if it does return, it’s okay
Shh… it’s a secret, but it can’t come back in
We’ll stay holed up in this glass, the crystal—it’s imperishable, unbreakable, like the unsinkable Molly Brown
Death will disappear and never return
tomorrow morning when I wake, we can talk more
We can dream again
We can dream over and over of disappearing into blissful nature, into perfection
We’ll dream again as our eyes closed, our minds drift, our hands clasp, and our bodies shudder
when night falls…
My song for Aubrey, probably since before she was born, has always been Rascal Flatt’s ‘My Wish.’ The words ring so true, and I hope that my daughter can find her place in this world much quicker than her mother did. I don’t know that I’ve played it for her since she was able to actually comprehend it, but I am sure that one day soon we will cross that bridge again. (And yes, I’ve edited out God’s grace. Most of you probably know by now that I’m an atheist. If you didn’t already… well, you do now. I am a very dedicated humanist, and I know that, regardless of your religious beliefs, Aubrey, you will find grace in your own mistakes as well.)
I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow,
And each road leads you where you wanna go,
And if you’re faced with a choice, and you have to choose,
I hope you choose the one that means the most to you.
And if one door opens to another door closed,
I hope you keep on walkin’ till you find the window,
If it’s cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile.
But more than anything, more than anything
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you’re out there getting where you’re getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish.
I hope you never look back, but you never forget,
All the ones who love you, in the place you live,
I hope you always forgive, and you never regret,
And you help somebody every chance you get,
Oh, you find [your] grace, in every mistake,
And always give more than you take.
But more than anything, yeah, more than anything
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you’re out there getting where you’re getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish. Yeah, yeah.
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you’re out there getting where you’re getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish (my wish, for you).
This is my wish (my wish, for you)
I hope you know somebody loves you (my wish, for you).
May all your dreams stay big (my wish, for you)
Of course, I want for her what every mother wants – for her to learn from my mistakes and do better for herself right off the bat. To avoid the pain and heartache that I felt. And more than anything, to find happiness around every corner she turns. However, I am not naïve enough to think that she will learn from my mistakes. Hell, I am still making some of the mistakes that my mother warned against, and I consider myself a reasonably educated and mature twenty-four year old. But as my daughter rapidly approaches her fourth birthday, which will quickly turn into her fifth, which then means kindergarten and then elementary school and before long, high school. College. Damn. Where has the time gone?! Don’t blink. I never realized.
I know she won’t heed all of my advice. I know there will be times where she will utter “I hate you, mom” and will probably mean it with every fiber of her being. For now, she clings to me and tells me she loves me so much, says “you’re MINE,” and gives the best hugs that I never even knew were possible. That will always be enough.
I know she will travel down many of the paths that I did. I know that she will probably make many of the same mistakes that I did. And who knows, maybe they won’t be mistakes for her. In the meantime, I’m going to start something that I’ve been meaning to start for a while now. I’d really like you all to contribute in the comments as well, whether it be to your own children or to mine. Hopes, dreams, wishes for my daughter. Mistakes that I hope she’ll never make. Lessons that I hope she’ll learn early. And, throughout, the message that I will never stop loving her regardless. There are a lot of but’s in here, and a lot of fragments. I’m not going to apologize for these. Let me tell you, if you haven’t already figured this out. Giving advice to someone else is one of the hardest things to do. I’m going to make lots of edits as things come to me, because I can assure you even I am not good enough to offer up all the advice needed for a lifetime in one day.
These are what follows.
As your mother, I will always love you with everything I have, even when I count to three and roll my eyes at you, forbid you to leave your disaster-ridden room until I can see the floor, or give you that mean-mom look when we are out in public and you aren’t listening to a single.word.I.say.
Never regret. There are many things in my life that I wish I could change, but I strongly believe in the butterfly effect (chaos theory). When you’re a little older, we can sit down together and watch the movie. (Head’s up, the second one sucked.) If you stepped out of the house a minute later than you should’ve, it might just have avoided you that car wreck. It’s not fate, or the universe. Honestly, it’s probably just dumb luck. But, it happened for a reason. Even those things that may not impact life or death are learning opportunities.
“It has been said something as small as the flutter of a butterfly’s wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world.”
– Chaos Theory
You don’t have to learn from every mistake. But, you probably will. Sometimes, you just have to make mistakes for the hell of it, and that’s okay. That’s what being young living is all about. You will probably want to throw yourself off a bridge at some point because of some lost love, or stupid mistake, or desperate clutch at something you can’t grasp. (Please don’t. Talk to me, or anyone else, first.) That’s okay. But, you are a changed person because of it. Mommy can reference just about anything back to Garth Brooks, so here’s The Dance.
Your age really doesn’t mean anything. You can find love at fourteen, and you can party like it’s 1999 when you’re fifty. It’s taking me a while to realize this. I always thought that graduating, getting married, and having a child meant growing up. But really, it just means growing. Growing together. Growing out. Growing closer. Just growing. It’s okay to be a kid again sometimes. When you are young, don’t let people get in your way. Ever. And if they do, let me know and I will make them move.
Don’t make lists. Well, I can’t honestly tell you that I mean this one, because a well-made list may very well save you a lot of stress. But I truly hope you don’t inherit your mother’s OCD gene, though I know how genetics work, and for this I am sorry.
Travel while you can. I don’t regret having you when I did, at all. Sometimes, I wish your daddy and I had waited until we were more stable, both financially and as adults, but that isn’t how life works. See number two. You are my beautiful baby girl, and always will be, and because I do believe in the butterfly effect I know that having you at a later time would’ve given us a completely different little girl (or boy!). But, I do look forward to when you grow up a little and we can travel as a family. I think traveling is important. It diversifies your view of the world, which cannot be gathered through looking at pictures or reading accounts.
You can change people. I know most people will disagree with me on this one, so I’m not going to give it much more. You are not really changing them, but you are helping them to recognize the good things within them that are brought out by being with you. And yes, there will be many. Yes, there will be people who will fight you every step of the way. They are scared of letting go of what they know. Don’t change people because you want them to conform to some idea that you hold of the perfect person. Help them change to be the best they can be for themselves and for you.
Love whoever the f^*k you love. And I mean this so much. Mommy spent many years of her life, between two different relationships with other women (girls), where she was terrified to admit to what was happening, terrified to “come out” to being gay, or bisexual, or whatever it was at the time. Don’t be scared. Mommy and daddy will always love you no matter what, and the rest of the world can f^*k themselves. Maybe things will change significantly in the next few years, and you won’t have to worry about this, and things are already changing drastically from when I was in high school. But really, you can’t change who you love. So, don’t fight it either. Wrap yourself up wholeheartedly in love and let it sweep you away. It can be great like that sometimes.
No, you probably don’t have a soul mate. But you will find one person that you cannot imagine your life without. And yes, you might think you find multiple people, but when the next comes along, the feelings transfer. And that’s okay. You’ll eventually find one that, no matter how things may seem at any given time, and no matter how bad things may get, you just won’t let go. And that’s as close as you’ll get to a soul mate. Hang on tight. Your daddy and I have been to hell and back, and there’s no chance either of us is letting go. He’s not really my soul mate, but my life partner, and that’s a commitment that we made to each other when we took our wedding vows, but also a commitment that we make with every fight (and make up), with every “I love you” or peck on the cheek, and with every scowl he gives me (sometimes followed by a smile) when I pet the cat before I hug him.
Do what you want with your life. Don’t make a lot of money? Just make enough to live, baby girl, or find another way to supplement. Don’t obsess over the future, because it’s never guaranteed. Don’t waste years of your life in school if you don’t enjoy school. Just find the dream, and then chase it like a tornado.
Tomorrow is never guaranteed. More Garth Brooks for you: If Tomorrow Never Comes. You’re going to have bad days. And that’s okay. But do what you want to do, when you want to do it. Don’t wait.
You don’t have to have children. You don’t have to get married. You really don’t have to do anything that society tells you to do. Be yourself! Every step of the way, be yourself. I know you will always have the love of at least a couple people in this world, and if anyone else has a problem with that, well… they can go back and check number 8.
Mommy doesn’t have a problem with bad words (as you can probably gather from 1-12 above), but some other people do. Be courteous, but be yourself. Don’t drop f bombs around 3 year olds (which is why mommy and daddy have to shut your door when we watch ‘bad’ movies), but don’t filter yourself when you’re in a mature setting. Say what needs to be said. On the same note, always say how you feel. Religious beliefs. Political beliefs. Any other beliefs you may hold. Stand up for them! Express yourself in any way you feel… tattoos, piercings, clothing, words. Anything. Be you (see number 12). When all else fails, substitute butterflying for stronger words, and then laugh when others get confused (when you get a little older, I’ll let you read Colleen Hoover’s Slammed series – one of mommy’s favorites, and this will really desensitize you to colorful vocabulary and the meanings behind it).
Smile as much as you can. Don’t ever force it, but put yourself in jobs, relationships, and other ventures that make you genuinely happy. Your smile is gorgeous, contagious, and radiant. Share it with the world.
Some ramblings from the heart for you on our fifth ‘dating’ anniversary. Here’s to many more, baby.
Five years and a couple of weeks ago, you walked into my life.
I wasn’t looking for love.
Actually, I thought I’d already found it. I had no idea.
You were looking for love. You’d just lost it, and you were reeling.
Searching in the dark for someone whose existence you doubted,
Like Big Foot.
I flipped on the light with a few spoken words, shared all-night conversations,
And a forbidden kiss.
I knew that our love was out of place, but it was meant to be.
I knew that I was in the wrong, but I needed more.
I needed you.
I’ve never been perfect, and I know I never will.
But you took a chance on me.
Actually, I’ve probably done you more harm than good.
You are my rock when I’m usually stuck between a rock and a hard place,
And that may sound bad, but I mean it in a very good way.
Our love has never been conventional,
Will never be traditional,
And I will probably never be the kind of person that can love you the way you want me to.
But I will try every single day,
And I will try more and more as the days pass.
And one day, maybe just one day,
I will get it kind of right.
I need you.
The past five years have been full of twists and turns
And unforeseen curve balls
And knives in the back, quick like a sneak attack.
Actually, they’ve been slow too.
But you’ve been there, every step of the way.
You’ve never left my side, even when you have probably wanted to.
Even when I’ve made you want to.
Even when I’ve asked you if you want to.
Some may think the wedding band around their finger chains them
Up
Or ties them
Down
But mine simply tethers me to my
Shore.
I’ll always need you.
Lastly, here’s our engagement song, which will always describe my feelings for you, as my love grows with every single passing day. This will never change. Happy dating anniversary to my forever love.
No, I didn’t choose to be bisexual. But I did choose to accept that I was bisexual. It only took about 24 years.
Who knows? Maybe I was younger than nine. I’d put money on it, actually, because I had a “big sister” figure that held a very special place in my heart. I was only two, so I can’t name any sexual feelings, but only an intense love that was strangely comparable to that which I held for my kindergarten “kiss tag” crush or the best friend relationships that would later blur the lines of lovers and friends.
Those closest to me probably don’t know the details. Even if they do, they probably haven’t syndicated the blinding parallels and, for lack of a better word, relationships.
Shit, it’s taken me 24 years to draw these lines. But now that I have, I’m going to share them with you.
“Shhhhh,” she whispered
Smoothing toddler curls from my sweaty forehead
Singing my favorite lullaby
Into the night
Missing, and never found again
The hole in my heart that I couldn’t seem to fill
Even a decade later
Huddled in the walk-in closet
Better suited for dolls than clothes anyway
Dressing our American Girls
And undressing
“I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours”
It’s all the same anyway
Unexpected knocking
And the door opens quickly
Yanking size 8 jeans over undeveloped hips
Wandering parent eyes drifting over undone buttons
Then, the “curiosity is normal” talk
But, is it?
Best friend cuddles
Sharing a bed on lonely nights
Terrified words scribbled on the whiteboard
Fear ever-present
“Would Robbie be gay if he wanted to kiss a guy friend?”
Knowing the answer, but seeking invalid validation
An accepting and equally curious “no”
Hopeful engagements, scribbled poems and lofty dreams
The trunk of love, and future, and secrets
And broken locks and loss
Passing notes in second period
Dog-eared and decorated
Secrets scribbled on wide-ruled lines
“I want to kiss you”
And fumbling fear under the comforter
Her parents oblivious outside the bedroom door
Sneaking between shared beds and sharing embraces through the night, always hiding
Hidden, forbidden romance and discovered text messages
And again
Broken promises of escaping reality and together forever
Aching for normal and giving up to search for it
Unrealizing, it was long gone, since I was bi by nine