Monthly Archives: May 2010

this summer I shall

* practice my pathetic Spanish speaking skillz… I should be ashamed to call myself a native to Arizona.

* practice my guitar enough to be able to say “I play guitar, too” by the end of the season

* do at least twenty minutes of yoga a day… I have been told I ought to try doing something athletic. We’ll see how this goes. I’m betting this won’t last long.

* drive across 21 states… yes that’s right, I shall be driving up to North Carolina and Washington D.C. for part of the summer and taking my sweet time coming back with some stops along the way… I am INCREDIBLY excited. We’ve been studying the Revolutionary War, so to be able to see a lot of the historical sites along the way will be VERY cool, and a week or more at the beach is pretty much my idea of paradise.

* finish reading through my Bible… I was going to read it in a year, and then went, hey. Would it kill me to spend an extra half hour a day in God’s word?

* make a list of some sort each day, no matter how short or strange.

* get comfortable with myself. I don’t DISlike how I look, but I need to stop trying to find ways to look just a LITTLE bit better every day. Less makeup. No blow drying my hair every single day. Maybe wear an oversized tshirt or two. Be able to wear a swimsuit without feeling absurdly self-conscious. Look in a mirror once in a while and let/make myself go “wow.”

* work on my attitude. nuff said.


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the gaps in my dreams beg to be explored

i fell asleep listening to your voice (that bittersweet lullaby in the night)
and woke up screaming in your haunted house
before my eyes had time to close.

hands roam around the empty space beside me,
searching, clutching the thin fabric,
fingernails digging into my skin.

stars look too much like a million eyes,
predestined witnesses as the moon paints my skin with light and darkness,
branding me a convict in my own bed.

i won’t fall asleep
looking at the night sky


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you know some days i just really want to shake you, you’re so delusional. stop pretending this is normal. wake up! this isn’t cute, this isn’t sweet, this isn’t ‘too funny.’

this is a disease. this is losing it. this is losing everything. have you ever even looked at her, really looked at her? if you had, you wouldn’t be able to laugh like this. you would see a before and after photo, but each photo would be so old and stained you wouldn’t even be able to tell who it was without a pair of vintage glasses, the kind her mother wore that are cased in glass and covered in dust today because no one has the time to clean them anymore. no one has the time. even i don’t have enough time to fix this, because this can’t be fixed. when i am eighty something and can’t remember my own grandfather’s name, i hope to god no one tells me i am too funny. because that will not even be me. and when you can’t remember even yourself, what is there left?

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ah, time…

i know we all change, and the changes aren’t bad. but a part of me misses this person and having her more or less to myself. i’m not saying i wish two other kids and all the years of changing had never happened. but some days i wish that i could go back and be the only one again and have two sisters to look forward to and changes to hope for, something to see in the future instead of the sometimes unpleasant realities of now.

also, i am rather struck by how beautiful my mom was even in huge glasses and ridiculous clothes.

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nearly pure

i see your face is ripped, darling, it’s quite beautiful. the tendrils of loose hair, the wrinkled shirt, the way you slump forward, a really thrilling display of emotion to be critiqued. i applaud you on your decision to capture this sweet moment of despair, gives us a whole new perspective on the color spectrum, and your weakness shines through so brilliantly. lovely lovely lovely. your elbows will surely be bruised tomorrow morning from leaning on the table, please be sure to snap a picture or two, i do love the splotches of purple and blue and black in contrast with your pale skin. a few days later you can capture a few more images of the yellowing and green faded injuries, titled with something to the effect of “time heals all wounds” because you clearly understand that better than any of us. of course you know i am always here to give you constructive criticism when you need it, just remember that i know best what you need and that what you want is completely irrelevant. now straighten up and go record a few more moments of your history, i’m tired of this part, moving on, hurry up, something even more raw this time. there is always room for self improvement, which is, undoubtedly, why you are doing this to yourself and to me. you know what they say, practice makes perfect, go and break your heart a time or two more until you have mastered the art, don’t stop until you reach higher ground, and even then maybe it’s time to start bettering yourself and reach for the sun.


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12:11 AM

time for splashing into waves
running like mad
time to leap up and down
time to fly

she is screaming screaming screaming and she is not going to stop screaming

no pain
release fear joy understanding elation revelation

rise up rise up rise up rise up rise up

you don’t control her won’t control her take that
laughter smiles
walk away
just walk away no more
stop saying nothing to be done always nothing we can change
you are a liar and everyone is done

who knows what will happen when what will happen god knows
you know i don’t know
fireflies spotlights singing choruses of angels

no more drugged sleep no more drowning
no more shying away no more hate
we refuse to asphyxiate tonight

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all in all, it’s just another day now, falling down, watcha gonna do?

it’s one of those days where every single thing you do is wrong and normally it would be enough to bring you to tears… but instead it is hilariously funny and you laugh until you sob with mirth. and there is something just delicious in the failure because you are completely okay whether you failed or not because you simply will not let anything bring you down. you’ve seen your idea of the worst and you’ve cried enough and you’ve been fuming for too long and it is time to end this now. it’s a little bittersweet yes, but sometimes forgetting for a good reason is better than remembering out of anger.

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