"You can't take a picture of this. It's already gone."

Monday, December 1, 2014

Written in October, obviously

October has been brutal,
vicious, more than I am used to.

And yet, there is a crisp, cold
glow to the air.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Bared Teeth

Things that bother me tend to involve teeth.
I hate teeth. It sounds silly and it kind of is,
but there's the hard line.
If I had to choose a short version
it would be that she is scared of
gleaming teeth and vast spaces
in the case of some things,
both of them together.
The vastness of the sea and inherent horror
of things that swim with pointy teeth
make me want to hide in my house forever,
only taking showers occasionally.
In the long run, I think this means that I am afraid of that
inevitable loss of control.
One day you run into somebody or something
you can't win
you can't fight.
And I prefer not to put myself in situations where I can't have a plan.

I am often struck by the fear of cold violent darkness.

Sunday, September 14, 2014


My cat knows when I am upset.
I don't think this means she's psychic.
what I mean is
I think that all cats are a little bit off
if you know what I'm talking about
you know
and if you don't
well, sorry then.
But she has sat and guarded me while
I slept the mornings away
and she watches me when I'm in the bathtub
and she gets as close to my back when I work as possible
and occasionally groom whatever is closest to her
as the idea strikes.

She is afraid of thunderstorms.
I only noticed a few weeks ago because it was thundering
and I realized I couldn't find her anywhere.
I searched around, mildly disconcerted as I walked the floors of my home
without tripping over a large aggressively friendly animal
and found her hiding under the table, letting out some
terrifyingly angry growls.
Because I have no dignity or sense of self preservation
I crawled under there and sat with her for a while.
The first time I saw her, it was through a cage door
and it was only her front legs, which she had reached all
the way out of to sink her very sharp claws into my upper shin.
She drew blood.
It was love at first sight.
When you love someone (something?)
you should sit with them when they are in pain
or scared or angry.

In the last few weeks,
my cat Evangeline
(I'm pretty confident that she does not think this is her name.
It alternates between 'darling' and 'you fucking cat'
because I am an asshole)
has done her best to not leave my side, even when the shower is turned on
as hot as it can go and the music is up too loud
she sits and waits.
Once though, she looked at me and her whole body poofed out
her tail looked like it was twice the natural size and
her eyes were huge.
I felt my stomach drop out- I was just shampooing my hair
nothing she hasn't seen me do a million times
and she looked terrified and angry,
like she could see an angry and evil alien wrapped up in my hair
but she held her ground and stayed.
I turned off the music and watched her more closely that evening and
her tail stayed poofy that night.

I worry that she can see my ghosts.
That can't be good for anyone.
But she persists in living her life pressed up against the lines of
my arms and legs and forever trying to steal my iced tea
and carrying around little plastic balls in her mouth
so she jingles when she walks.
She has a stash of straws under my bed.
She doesn't believe in solitary bathroom trips
or that there isn't any space between my lap and laptop.
She insists on sleeping in ALL of the sinks
and in my bed with me if I am in it.
She lets me clip her claws so they don't sink into my flesh
and I feed her and occasionally share my tuna with her.
She's soft as a bunny

you had flowers in your mouth the day I met you
It turns out they were oleanders
not magnolias like I assumed
the poison was masked
by the incessant decadence and I am not omniscient
or really even that observant it turns out.
I promise I would have ripped them out of your mouth
if I had known.
If I had wondered
I would have dragged you to a hospital
watched you throw up and not looked away
for even a moment
told you that you are so beautiful
so fucking vital to the world
and then walked with you until you could take the oleanders out
and replace them with magnolias.

Oleander is common in Texas and California and I worry
about where you found it
but magnolias also grow here
and they are not poisonous.
They are big and hardy and prized for their sweet smell
and are apparently part of the coffee family
which I did not know and I'm sure a fact you would have appreciated
were you here to hear it.

Friday, August 29, 2014

5 Days

I cannot even begin to describe it
how I felt the moment I heard
he's gone.

but you want to know the secret?

in the middle
of the agony and the pain and the rage
is the jealousy.
because other people got to know you more
to love you more and have more of your time
got the choice to be around you or not
they got to know you and see you
be around all the bits all the time

In your defense,
who could have known?
what if you didn't want to be saved?
it was a family legacy.
maybe god has a plan.

I was told my whole life
that there was a man who bled and died for my sins
but in this case there is not enough blood and pain
and tears for me to sacrifice
to bring you back.

It's been almost a whole week
and no one has called to tell me that it was all
a bad dream
a horrible joke
not real.

I'll never get to introduce you to my stupid cat
or show you this new car or how fast it goes
or smoke a cigar with you and ask for your stories
or mess with you about the music
or discuss Dr. Who ad nauseum with you
until everyone yells at us to shut up.

You held my son gently on the first day I saw you
and you waved to me as I walked near you
and you reminded me of my dad and my aunt
I'm sure you were nervous about showing up that day
no one knew you were coming and
I remember how shocked I was that you'd come
You'd called me and wished me love and luck a few days earlier
said you'd gotten the invitation and thanked me.
But you were there and I got to see how
wonderfully loud and gentle our side of the family is.

And I say all of this to say
that I'm sorry you are missing the party next year.
I would have liked to see you in your place
where it's cold and where your home is.
I would have liked to see you in the snow
or on your motorcycle
around the moose that seem to be everywhere around you
There was comfort in knowing you were one of mine
or I was one of yours.
Every time we spoke or talked or texted or chatted
you told me you loved me
and I'm glad I said it back
every time.
I'll always measure time in regards to you
as the time I knew I had an uncle
and the time I knew you loved me.
I knew you loved me before I saw you though,
because you sent me a picture of where her ashes were
so I could know where she was
and be there too.
After he left
from the airport he told me
he was missing me already and he wasn't even gone.

I know how that feels.
I'm missing you already
but I cannot
will not
believe that you are

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Eyes Open

"Everybody's waiting for you to break down
Everybody's waiting to see the fall out
Even when you're sleeping
keep your eyes

I was at a house on the bay on the beach
one weekend and it started around 9
and ended around 1 am and I was so very tired
but I smiled through the hours because two houses down
there had to be the biggest rager on that side of the island
I could hear all the people there screaming SHOTS
at least 5 different times that night and every so often
a kayak with people wandering off to do whatever young people
do drunkenly in the wee hours of the night would slide past my house
and I would scream at them to have a good time
and they would back and it was oh so reminiscent of the
drunken toast I am not quite the master of.

Sometimes I think that I am not quite the person
who makes the choices
but at other times the rage is flowing so much stronger than the grief does
it's the rage that gives me the choice
that even when I'm so angry I can't stop shaking
I'm changing I'm flying I'm shaking the dust from my feet
because I try not to wear shoes
all my hair is gone but I think the back of my neck is where
I keep my power
and my hands.

Once upon a time
a million years ago
and today sometimes
I've successfully hidden how I feel for so many instances and so many years
that I don't even remember how I really feel about something.
There are no more real feelings for these moments
only rueful smiles and nods that say I agree
stay safe don't rock the boat.
It's okay just don't say anything.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Let's just ignore that previous title. christ.

On brief occasions
very brief, very occasionally
I worry that all the words that spill out so frequently
will one day spin their way into a web I can't talk my way out of.

One day all the words I spew and spit and speak
won't  mean a damn thing, because when I'm still and silent
all I see are hands wrapped around me and things I've never done
feet that haven't gone where I wanted them to and
lips that are fuller but angrier
and a life I'll never live is just too much to see floating around behind my eyes

and on the days that these thoughts creep nearer and nearer
I stay in my room, draw the curtains, dim the lights
and mourn the things I might have been.

Oh darling, darling
don't assume
it doesn't do any good
or do
as it turns out,
I occasionally take applications for my grief.

Saturday, July 19, 2014


"But if you close your eyes
does it almost feel like nothing changed at all
and if you close your eyes
does it almost feel like you've  been here before
oh, how am I gonna be an optimist about this."

My skin itches on rainy days
and because it is summer
the thunderstorms around here are frequent.

Looking at my guitar and my piano
makes my brain itchy and my fingers twitch
I can't quite make myself go and play
but I sit on the couch and tap tap tap
and practice the chords and the notes
and try to remember what it was like to have my fingers fly
the way my brain does.

Fortunately, there is a small slightly evil cat here
and when she notices me getting upset
or moving too fast
or really any time she sees me existing
she comes over and makes her presence known. 
She knows when the brain and the stomach are doing terrible things
and she makes her presence known
and that presence is generally much more calming on most days
unlike today, where her presence has far more claws
and we are not getting trimmed until tomorrow.
My skin has a growing collection of holes
in the shape of pawprints.

I went to therapy for the first time since January or earlier
I can't really remember
but it was super helpful
and I think she wants to work with me to capture the parts of my brain that I like
the musical parts and the parts that are able to think coherently most of the time
and she wants to help rewire my fight or flight or freeze systems
which are in desperate need of a tune up or just maybe we should
strip the whole thing and put in new wiring. Or whatever it is that you do
to cars and brains that are magnificent fuck ups.

She's asked that I identify things that allow me to quiet the eternal brain chanting
and I thought of a few while I was there
the cat Evangeline and the way she cuddles
when the kids want a story or just to sit with me
reading, but I use that a lot to numb the pain and the fear and the anxiety
I can rarely concentrate for long enough to do one thing at a time
cleaning or playing games for longer than 5 minutes at a time is a struggle
I can read more because I can intersperse it with other things
I don't know really. I don't know what's wrong, but I know something
is off, and I have been off,

there are always loops in my brain
things that stick, there was a ghost in my closet for 3 years once
and my brain still tells me that the food isn't mine that someone will steal it
so hide it squirrel it run away
Don't trust her, don't trust him, hide your children do not look at the sunlight
Don't tell anyone the truth, don't fight
don't touch my stuff don't read my writings what if she hates me what if I throw up
what if I'm not the best the brightest the strongest
what if I'm the angriest
hold your head still be careful migraines blinding pain always just around the corner.
why do my eyebrows never conform to a single shape no matter how much I or anyone else shapes them
why do my hands shake so much?
Why do I feel so indisputably ill after anxiety hits
why won't anyone believe me when I tell them I feel sick
why does the fear make it hard to say no but harder still to make meaningful connections
why is it only once or twice a month that I can push past the walls that I've built up
and let myself cry?

Friday, July 4, 2014

No one's girl

"And it's not much
but my money's on you."

I promise
I promise
I promise

that I loved you once
that I love you still

but some nights
I hate me.

Saturday, June 28, 2014


Things that tickle me to no end

filling up my kindle with new books to read

finding a cool new webcomic to read
(sorry, looking for group, I'll come back soon, I promise)

the stray cat outside that finally came up to me when I came out of the car
I put a bowl of food out for her, I hope she comes by soon
she looks thin and scared
but she looks like she could love you
she came when I called and let me rub her
she has big eyes
so hopefully she'll notice the food on my porch

Cats in general make me feel ticklish
nearly all of them come to me before I call
my cat in particular is a comforting beastie
she is so gentle and yet so aggressively friendly
it works well with my personality.
We can be lovingly hostile together.

Getting messages from my friends
whether I've met them or not
you are all so wonderful

when people apologize

lemon pepper

the Blunt the Knives song in the Hobbit movie

I have a friend that every time I see him
he will laugh at least twice, so hard he can barely breathe
and his eyes water and he occasionally rolls around on the floor
and just the thought of this makes me so happy
he is so beautiful when he does this
full of unrestrained joy
and we all howl with him.

Christmas music in the summer
what child is this and o come o come emmanuel

Getting a cookie that says
"a longtime admirer thinks highly of you."

all of the Dessa music

Playing Mario Kart incessantly

Talking to my friends.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Looking Today

I can see you.

Monday, June 16, 2014

wrote this on may 3rd, forgot to post it. not the worst

Here are the secrets of life
which is embarrassingly enough a reference to a song i loved
what feels like a millions years ago
and played over and over and over again
the secrets of my life feel pretty dumb
but go outside once in a while
because fresh air is something you forget you need when you cloister yourself
occasionally get fresh air.
it’s okay to medicate if you are hurting.
it’s okay to call a doctor or ask for help
don’t be afraid to keep trying to look for a good therapist
(I’m still working on that one)
Be as kind as you can to the people around you
but it’s more important to have your boundaries and humanity respected
that to be kind
your safety matters over their comfort
if I could tell myself that for the last 15 years
maybe my life would be different, better.
support your friends
stay in contact
keep a sense of humor
and it is okay to not like things
to call people out on things
to ask the dumb questions
what does that mean?
why do you think that is funny?
Ask questions
keep asking questions
to your doctors and the pharmacists
and the churches and your parents
and anyone who will speak to you
like you are important and you are so important
snuggle with cats and dogs
drink lots of water
don’t ever let anyone tell you what you can and can’t do
with your own body.
we’ll be right back after these messages.

Friday, June 13, 2014

I hate this but I also kinda like it? I need to write more and work on it...

When I went to Vegas, it was the lights and the flying that got me. I'd never been on a plane before and I was terrified out of my mind even though I'd been assured by friends and family that even turbulence was highly unlikely. Clearly these people still don't know me, as it took me a day to get over the one roller coaster I've ever been on, and it was a small one.

Once I was in the air, I calmed down after about 30 minutes. It was the slow rumble along the runway and the feeling that we were preparing to be launched that slowly turned me into a barnacle on my best friends arm, so my thoughts of "Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die!" were interspersed with "please please don't let me crush her tiny wrists." Going up was terrifying. I'm not a fan of the feeling. When we were drawn up on that singular roller coaster I rode, I could feel every warning my mother has ever said to me watching me, looming over me. Multiply that by ten on the airplane. Mostly I just felt bad for the people around me. It's hard watching someone trying to repress some high levels of fear and just sit quietly. Personally, I was trying not to burst into some kind of wild laughter. I doubt there will ever be a moment where planes and I are friends. I don't think my suspension of reality is good enough to deal with giant metal things flying through the air.

Anyway, the moral of this pointless, rambling story is that there is no moral. I was scared of the plane, the trip, what I was going to do, if I was going to run out of money and I still had an awesome time. I would still go back and this time, I would pack lots of shorts and drink more and never ever see the goddamn blue man group ever again. Fuck those guys. Seriously. Also, sandstorms are scary and so is running through shin deep dark water in the streets, but you can always tell who is from Houston, because we are the ones running through it like we don't give a fuck. It's terrifying. Everyone on the plane back talked about how it was like our pointless asshole weather followed us to Vegas. I sat next to a guy who told me everything about the wedding he dropped everything and went to because his friends were eloping. Everyone on the plane was in a good mood.

Mostly it reminded me that I can spend days on end with my friends and not get tired of them. That they love me even when they are looking at me like I'm a little odd and when I'm terrified of cars.

But seriously though, they all walk REALLY fast. We need to work on that.

Monday, June 9, 2014

This world keeps spinning faster to new disaster

"I run too fast
or too slow it seems."
Lady Antebellum

The truth is
that my mouth opens perpetually
while the rest of me is always shut off
I can be kind and happy with my mouth
or sharp
I can make someone feel good
but the instant people want hands on me
the skin is on fire and I don't (can't) like it
so don't touch me, I don't want to burn

I was looking through boxes of books
and feeling such pain
yearbooks are a special source of agony
friends I had, friends I lost, friends who ran screaming
and those of us who just faded...
Hopefully the words I wrote will last to other people
I don't know if everyone has this super-sad-mentality
this far away on this side of the line
I'm sure plenty of people do
I absolutely do not believe that I am the only person
capable of ridiculous melancholy
but regardless of introducing melancholy to the whole world
or if it is just me
looking through my books hurts me
giving away my books hurts
goodbye things
 you kept me sane throughout some of the rougher years
and now that rough years are indeed ahead and behind
apparently I don't need you anymore
replaced by virtual words in space.
thankfully stories remain the same
even if they are different
and I have the comics still
with the angels and robots and devils
and people who fell in love and died

My cat likes to sit closest to skin. She finds the part
where my shirt doesn't quite meet my pants and she puts her back
on it and faces the outside world. She'll lay here for hours.
She knows I love how she exists in close proximity to me.
Sometimes when I sleep, she comes and sleeps on my pillow
in my hair, like she's not a fellow bed crowder, but an extension of me
that on occasion digs her claws into my head.
And lick my hair incessantly
and occasionally chomps at my face.
We have a strange love.

I find myself limp, like my bones are gone
when I am with him.
I've pressed my body against his for years
and he his against mine
and I haven't seen him in forever
and we just exchange pleasantries
and it's pleasant, which is the highest of praises
not something I have to work at but someone to simply whisper
the generalities of how life is.
I wonder at how we are so very very different
in our paths, but how we can meander together anyways.
I feel less tight around him
like the millions of ways I am lesser and terrible
like the thousand ways I can't cope and won't let myself be free
aren't there.
I worry sometimes that I tell him the truth too much
that he can't handle it or he won't love me
But he's never been afraid of the realities
and him loving me

it doesn't matter though
I'm always a thousand miles away
have always been.

Saturday, May 31, 2014

so pretty

quiet and calming and pretty

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso

Sometimes you meet people you know will be precious to you forever.
This is both a rarity and an everyday occurrence for me.
(this is why I shouldn't write melancholy drunk-or maybe ever)
The reality of my world is that everyone lives in perpetuity in my head. I have a million stories in my head about everyone at any given moment. I get lonely a lot but I am always full of the words. The words keep me safe but they are so loud sometimes and they don't fill up the big ugly empty spaces.
I don't know if the big ugly empty parts are a part of everyone. I hope they aren't.

Seriously though. Fuck the rest of what I wrote. Drunk melancholy writing is absolutely terrible.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014


"Run away,
I'll just run away like a child from all of them to you...
Daylight fading, I curse the breaking
the day is gone, the day is gone.
Love is bleeding, I curse my breathing
the day is gone, the day is gone."
Sons of Anarchy

I was reading things on tumblr
and someone said something about how the only difference
between now and before I found tumblr
is that I used to stay up all night reading books
and now I stay up all night reading tumblr.
And that is certainly true. I enjoy all the different
views and pictures and funny things and music
all at my fingertips
I can switch between Doctor Who
and True Blood and Teen Wolf
and Grey's Anatomy with a few clicks
I can do my job and paint my nails
and occasionally the cat comes and sits on my boobs
while I'm answering the phone and I can block out the constant
sound of my own thoughts by having them drowned out
cats meowing and starwars going and children going MOMMY
and maybe I'll forget that my inner voice is going
the inner voice screams sleep
and cut off your hair
and don't talk to anyone
it's always saying how I am so far from beautiful
so far from perfect
I believe it
the mirror never(always) lies

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Gone gone gone (in relation to my computer until monday)

So he told me yesterday
"Maybe whenever a part of the old Megan dies,
you get angry and sad. That's why you cry."

And there the rub of it
that's the cruddy part
how do you get better
you take off the bad parts
and it hurts
It hurts to let go of the parts of me
even the ones that hurt when I hold on to them.

It feels sometimes like the rules are
that the wounds on my back must be scraped
and broken open
and scrubbed until they are fresh and clean and bleeding
in order for the skin to grow back.

I've been watching a lot of Hannibal lately
and I have been feeling so stressed
the knots in my back are here and bad
so painful I can't sleep without help
and even then it's difficult
almost impossible to turn off my brain
the words come and come and
sometimes what's coming out of my mouth
doesn't sound like what I wanted it to.

My computer is unusable for now.
I don't like it. I work and play incessantly on in
and my income comes from that computer. I have one
that I can use as back up, sort of, since it isn't really mine
but I don't prefer it. I like things that are mine, that feel like mine
I've spent the last 5 months getting my ways set and being happy
with the way I've been doing my work and now I'm having a hard
time adjusting. This is a ridiculous thing to be feeling so very put out
by, and I'm deeply aware of that.

But it is just a frustrating thing on top of many many other
frustrating things that are happening.
I will be glad when monday is over, when my computer is fixed
and I can go back to furiously blogging from my own chair
and talking to customers
and being thankful that tax season is waning
and spending time with my friends
before they head out for months at a time.


Monday, March 24, 2014


"I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
I'm just out to find
the better part of me."
Five for Fighting

I remember
how the carpet felt
how rough and dark it was
and how your shirt felt, stretchy shiny material
and it never occurred to me that I'd never have moments like those
with you ever again.
If you read this
and you will,
you always do
(there's that arrogance you always had)
you would say
wow that sounds way dirtier than it was
and it does.

I hate letting anyone look at the music I listen to.
I'm told that I'm supposed to share
that it's a good way to connect
what kind of music do you listen to?
go to answer is always
I listen to everything.
Non specified music lover
I can sing soprano and alto parts
the alto parts are easier on my voice
but 8 years of soprano training is hard to wear away
I can read music and harmonize by ear
Good harmony makes me so very happy
I should tell people that
the music I like must include decent harmonies
these are the qualification
preferably with good stories
I like anything that has bagpipes, provided they aren't terrible
and I love Irish songs
that's a hard statement to quantify
I like to dance
but I can hear a beat in nearly every song
so nothing is particularly dance music to me
my car has crazy bass for a ridiculous tiny little car
but I always always have the music loud in there
it makes my thoughts less angry as I drive
and that's generally a good thing.

blahblahblah new post to go to  because I've run out of thoughts on this one

Friday, March 14, 2014

Trust Exercises

Did everyone do trust exercises
at some point?

There was one weekend that I couldn't
NOT go on that they did them
but I didn't trust anyone at the camp
and in an odd turn of events
nearly every adult understood the irony of
trying to force a trust exercise. So I never did it.

And that's the story of why
I don't trust anyone enough
to fall backwards into their arms
out of a tree.
not even at confirmation camp
not even if god himself or herself
told me to let go and fall back.

And two whole days of talking incessantly
about my supposed faith
and singing at the top of my lungs at a place
who rarely remembered my name
and sleeping badly
did nothing to improve my faith or my trust.
Mostly what it did was make it all the more painful
when a little while later
the people I thought were my friends
decided that we weren't any more.

There are lots of days
where all I can think is that there was never enough
trust to leap out of a tree
or off the swings
or into the water
and that is why I like to read
I can throw myself into the book
and know that I can come up for air
I can trust that no one will try to drown me.

Thursday, February 27, 2014


The amazing part
is that when my hair was chopped off
when I said
just do what looks good
I'm not afraid

I became

Funny how these things

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Fun Parts

"I'm never speaking up again
it only hurts me.
I'd rather be a mystery
than she desert me.
Oh I'm never speaking up again...
starting now."

The fun parts
are when I remember
that no matter how often I straighten my hair
and paint my nails
there is no way I could change myself
that would make you love me

The fun parts are
when I finally have something to go to
that doesn't make me react viscerally with anxiety
but I take the meds to feel better for the next body horror
and lo and behold! They make me feel worse.
and so not only did I miss what I was looking forward to
but now i can joyously be worried about how I affected

The fun parts are
never knowing what to wear
because who knows what everyone will expect from you
what to bring for a present to someone who has known your name
since you were born
but couldn't tell you your favorite color
or what you like.

The fun parts are how my stomach hurts
and how when I'm falling asleep
I can remember either the really good parts
(how her arms feel, what the air felt like that night
what it felt like to be loved)
or the really bad ones
(two hours of crushing loneliness, keep that smile on,
why don't you invite me over? what if they hate me)
but never just the normal ones.

The fun parts are how
when I remember that he came over
and told me to dance with him
when I got home, what I remembered
was that his hand felt like yours
and I will never feel your hand like that again.

The fun parts are how
I will fuck you up
if you look at my cat or my kids or my friends wrong
but it is okay if you hate me
I don't mind too much as long as I know.
I hate surprises, especially ones where I thought someone was okay with me
turns out to really really not be.

These are the fun parts.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

No Ordinary Wings

And today was the day
I swear to keep this open until
I have finished a post or
I'll never get anything done.
There are so many words in my head and
I worry that they won't get out and
will eventually break their way out of my head.

I've become quite taken with Frozen,
it's become my latest Brave and Tangled,
and as always, I love my disney princesses
talkative and funny and preferably with crazy hair.

Sometimes I think about what it is like
to wrap my arms around his waist. It's not a fantasy-
I do it as often as I see him. But it feels somewhere between
good and odd in reality.

I went to an Event a little while ago
and it was somewhere between dreadfully awful for a while
and absolutely lovely
and the truths I've learned are that
I feel horribly sad about watching children become adults
and watching a wedding for some people really feels like that
and the feelings of isolation are real, no matter where I go
but sometimes I'll have brief moments of respite
and the loneliness lifts
and there are documented pictures of me laughing with people
and goofing off
and since when does that happen
and tequila and coke should not mix
but sitting at a table full of people who can match your crazy stories
make for fascinating conversation.
and dancing was terrible and fun.

God this was terrible
reading and writing.

Friday, February 7, 2014

I walked with you Once Upon a Dream

The things I have learned about you
go as follows:

you remember my orders when we
go out to eat
but you try to get me to eat new things.
you let me pick where we eat
even when I don't want to.
you read to me once when i was sick
sorry for picking a book that was french
and love my ever wayward paths
that always end in crazy hair
you know my painful memories are often
the best ones i have

 you introduce me to your friends
and makes sure I feel safe and taken care of
especially when I'm feeling lonely and isolated
and you make me take pictures
that I am grateful for in the long term
and you listen when I read the most random things
out loud
and even though I never want anything but pho
and bahn mi, you still let me pick.
you made me watch ocean's 11 and 12
and I hate it
and you are still not happy about that
you remind me not to let my anxiety
rule over me
and you remind me
I don't have to be alone
to reach out when I feel trapped

You like pizza and games too much
(little caesars, seriously, all the time)
and you laugh when my favorite characters kiss
and you hate clothes and only ever want to wear pajamas
(if I'm lucky)
and sometimes you say mean things to the cat
(but only when she's trying to eat wires)
you have only complained about 4 times about the music i choose
in the car
as opposed to the every single time I complain
when you choose.

when I am with you
I remember that you love me
for all of the things
the good the bad and the heinous bullshit
and not in spite of them.

let's go to greece and rome
to florence and naples
and the french countryside
and to ireland and the bahamas
to montreal and prince edward island
let's go on every roller coaster i can stand
(which is rare)
and go to all the water parks
(much better)
and all the beaches
I want to see the world with you.
let's get a big dog to go with our cat
who licks our faces
you and your friends dance with me

and I feel loved often

Monday, January 13, 2014

It was Oprah

On occasion
the sound of my thoughts
become too much
they are too loud

i spoke to people
friends if I was talking to anyone
but in truth
just people about whom I could quote facts
but no one I intimately know
and told them about my job and how sometimes
three sentences come out at once
and they sound odd
the words and letters all flow together
but it came out sounding like some language
no one has found yet

once upon a time
i was given a small gift
for christmas I think
and it was a magazine subscription
and it was between a million different ones
and I've always liked magazines but I rarely
get subscriptions
they just aren't on my radar as much as books and other
storytelling formats are
and i was thrilled in some small way
because I could choose what I wanted
so I told the gift giver that I wanted something
either Oprah (I'm a sucker for happy endings and
women that feel like I might know them)
or some sort of fashion magazine
(they are the guilty pleasure I've nearly ceased
in the last few years)
and I was told
that I had to get the Parenting magazine instead
so that's what they gave me
and I dutifully read it for a year
and I maybe still have some issues around
But I bought myself a subscription a few days ago
to a magazine I liked
something I wanted
and the moral of the story is
except sometimes people give strange gifts
with odd rules attached.

The Great Gatsby
is one of those things that I have mixed feelings about
which makes it one among many but
the loneliness of the characters is always painfully striking for
I finally watched Perks of Being a Wallflower.
I read the book a long long time ago and remember being
struck by the words
verbalizing the feelings that come around for many of us
whether we're in high school or not
the feelings of isolation
I buy and read watch stories about the isolation
I am constantly battling against.
I write because I am lonely and because the words
make me feel more connected
and the loud music and the stories make me feel
like I could be a part of something.

When I was younger
I used to sleep with my bed full
of books. What I mean when I say that
is that since I have been 6 years old, my bed has
been full of books.
in the bed
under the pillows
between the mattress and box spring and of course
dozens over the bed.
But since last year, I just sleep with my kindle
which happens to have over 900 books
so I haven't really changed all that much in 22 years
at least in regards to my books.

when i was about to send a message
that was supposed to read
'please call'
what I actually wrote
was 'please call, for the love of god'
I can't imagine my boss would be pleased
and fortunately I caught myself before I sent it
but it made me chuckle
because I can charm anyone
but I always identify when they rub me incorrectly.

sometimes i have to figure out
how to tell people that people have died
or other rough things
I have difficulty conveying urgency
because of a lifetime of downplaying painful things
so sometimes this job can be a little weird.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

you were fleeting

last night i found out
that I don't really know how she died
I know how people think she died
but I didn't know her name
or who she loved
or how she loved or any
of the whys
and there are so so many

But I don't, really,
know how she died
I don't know if she did it
or if someone else did it
I don't know if she loved me or
remembered me
but I know that we've had the same thoughts
what if I just got up and walked?
only she did it
what if

no grave for me to visit.
only lots of jewelry
and fading memories
and painful questions I am
too afraid to ask
and too afraid to know the answers
and a family history on both sides now
of holes in our heads
and our hearts.