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.

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

I adorn myself daily
with the jewelry of a dead woman
partly because I don't want to forget her
and partly
because I don't want her to forget me.
I wear her on my hand, because I use them daily
for good or for evil
and on my ears
because
I want to hear the truths and lies that are
thrown at me daily.
Her wolves are on my walls
and my dreams are caught by her.

I mourn for her
mildly
quietly
daily
and even if my beliefs
are all willy-nilly
I know that I
will see her again.

I started reading
The Sandman comics
by Neil Gaiman.
I know, I know
I'm incredibly late
to the game
but they are beautiful and
sad. I have trouble
describing it, because the stories are
intricate and dark and lovely and
ugly and
I love them.

My Top Ten Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasures.

1. Hot cheetoes with lime and coca cola.

2. Talking to old friends.

3. Laurell K. Hamilton Books.

4. Sexy high heeled shoes.

5. My tarot cards.

6. Driving by myself.

7. Buffy, Angel, Firefly, Grey's Anatomy and Glee. Oh, True Blood and Walking Dead.

8. Guns. And graphic novels.

9. Online comics like Looking for Group.

10. Silver jewelry and good cameras.

This is the most boring post ever.