one day, maybe i will fly

Sometimes its so hard for me to see beauty. I feel so blackened, so burnt. Pieces of my skin fall off, and I leave my ashy mark on every path I step foot on. The public bathrooms are my sanctuary; I lift my feet up above the door, and I curl up, and I wait to be alone. I don’t want this world to spin anymore. Why won’t it slow down? Why is everyone out to hurt me? I want to look around and see good people; to allow myself to believe that their smiles aren’t fake. I want to breathe in kindness, authenticity, loyalty. I want to see beauty in the eyes of these ugly people, whose shadows give their burdened hearts away. Continue reading

i cannot save her, only myself

Why aren’t things different? Better? Fixed? Why is it that when the rain starts, I am still falling down into the dark pits of past trauma? I don’t understand it, why I am still tormented so. I can still remember, physically, the touches that I did not agree to; the fear of making a sound; the emptiness. Continue reading

beauty

i have dirt under my fingernails

and cracks and ridges where soft skin should be
my hair is pulled up into a messy rats nest
with brittle ends and greasy roots Continue reading

please, don’t leave me

had a bad dream again last night.

i wake up to the back of his neck. i nuzzle my face into his skin and i repeat
i need you
i need you
i need you Continue reading

a different kind of person

I used to be a different kind of person. I was broke and tired, I was running on pure desperation. My conscience was hidden underneath layers of cold; under layers of sadness that were stale and hard. I didn’t know how to articulate my feelings into words, and besides, no one was there to listen anyway. Continue reading

thankful

I will not deny it, things haven’t been so easy as of late. I seem to have slipped into some kind of comfortable sadness; some form of loving loneliness. This is how things used to be, not how they should be now. But I suppose that is the artistry of depression, it cares not for circumstance. Continue reading

dreams i have had

it’s not easy saying goodbye. some days, i don’t hurt as much. others, i hurt a lot. i get scared, because goodbyes have always been hard for me. goodbyes have been final. they have meant the end. you turn a … Continue reading

that one time i was a mormon- part 3

Click here for Part One

Click here for Part Two

Yes, I was homeless. Basically what happened was that my mom was in a mood, and coerced my little sister to send me some very vicious messages. Words that likened me to the worst of the worst. Typical of my mother. Needless to say, I packed up what I could fit into two garbage bags and walked down my parent’s gravel driveway and sat down on the sidewalk. I called Linda. Continue reading

that one time i was a mormon – part 2

Click here for Part One

Click here for Part Three

The next day, I was out walking with my landlord’s tween son, Terrance. He was a budding magician, and loved doing magic tricks for passersby. He reminded me of my little brother, and so I liked hanging out with him. As we approached the bottom of the hill that our house sat on, I saw those two missionary boys knocking on the door. Continue reading

that one time i was a mormon – part 1

There was that one time that I was about to become a Mormon.

I was living in a 4 bedroom house with a batshit-crazy landlord, her son, and two other renters. I was doing important things like working night shift as a caregiver to patients with dementia, eating frozen dinners at 6 am, and sleeping all day. Continue reading

new home, old fears

Sometimes I feel like I’m still drowning, and I don’t even know why. I look around this place, my life. I have this beautiful home now. A spacious gem that I never would have imagined I could actually live in. I unpack my things and walk room to room as I try to figure out where everything will go, and then I go up  and climb into our new bed and I watch a movie on my new computer. And then I sleep. And I dream. Nightmares.

I am still so scared. Continue reading

an old journal entry

A journal entry from late 2012. Continue reading

the unromantic romance

All my life, I have been a romantic. Not in the “love” sense, but in the way I expect big moments to be. I want everything to be artistic, I want everything to be exquisite. Like walking onto the cold Oregon Coast sand, taking pause right before jumping into the icy water. Like looking out as far as my eyes can see, and feeling the waves of wonder pushing against my body. Or like hiking through an untouched forest, waiting for the fairies to begin playing with my hair. I spent a lot of time alone as a child, building up my imagination as my best friend. I guess maybe that’s why I have an amorous expectation of the world, hoping that when a big moment happens, I will know it’s right by the way my body tingles. Continue reading

what i wish i had known, then

  Then, I was covered in darkness. I had allowed my hopes and dreams to fall from my fingertips, onto the cold floor, and to shatter. After a while, I had forgotten about them completely. I could no longer recognize … Continue reading

the crazy

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I don’t know what I expected, but this isn’t it. Maybe I thought that growing up would solve all of my problems, or perhaps I just believed that I would figure out how to fix everything by the time I grew up. Truth is, nothing has happened. I’m still crazy.

I think the worst part is that explaining this crazy is so damn difficult. It won’t fit into paragraphs. It won’t follow the rules of grammar. It’s messy and gritty and the kind of thing that most of us try to avoid.

But what if I tried to explain it anyway? What would it look like?

It would look like this: Continue reading

hands on fire

I remember the ice, how it soothed her. She dipped her feet and hands into the frosty water, filled to the brim with pieces of frozen cubes, for it was the only relief she could find. The shaking and fever … Continue reading

terrifying and beautiful: the truth of my marriage

You are terrifying and strange and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.

Married life is not what I thought it would be. It’s edges are sharp, jagged, and they leave me with cuts that bleed. Marriage is no fairytale – no romantic story – it is work. I never understood that, nor could I have … but I do now. It is dangerous to think that this can continue without working harder than we ever have; we both are unfinished pieces of a horrifying puzzle, and putting two together does not just simply go smoothly. Continue reading

the slow burn of love

It is a poison, spreading through the veins, crippling the senses, murdering the heart, finding hilarity in the destruction it is causing. It brings out the best in you, it lets out the worst in you. Love. You see the … Continue reading

why i write

There was a time when I had given up hope; a time when I had the exact plans set on how to end my life.
There was even a time or two when I tried my hardest to carry out those plans.
Times I tried,
and times I failed. Continue reading

the (open) letter to my father that he will never read

 

Dad,

Yesterday, I decided to find you.

I tried, I tried so very hard, to not need anything from you. I tried to convince myself that I could move on without you; that I could carry on with my life somehow, without ever getting an apology. I gave it my all, I swear I did. I sweat and bled and broke, Continue reading

one year of loony

Well it’s come! My one year anniversary with WordPress. *clinks glass*
I’m having a hell of a time trying to figure out what kind of grand gesture is appropriate for such an occasion, but since I am very anti-climactic, I thought I would just take a brief drive down memory lane and perhaps end with what lies ahead. Continue reading

about a boy who loves loony

c96fee17f2793765c2f05a4795e0d3a4I built myself a home. One, two, three, four, story after story of levels to perch myself up onto this net of neuroticism. I thought it would be an easy life from this viewpoint; no one could reach me here, no one could touch me here. I would rise above it all and float away, invisible to the darkness below. Continue reading

i’m the black sheep that moo’s

One thing I want to do this year is shed some metaphorical weight; get rid of some of that baggage that I carry around with me on my shoulders. What is it there for? What purpose it is serving, other … Continue reading

a pause

“I had become, with the approach of night, once more aware of loneliness and time … those two companions without whom no journey can yield us anything.“ Lawrence Durrell I am stretching out my legs a bit, the absence has been felt … Continue reading

14.

Dear Loony, You’re 14, eh? Flat chested, skinny, with a very bad dye job. Sorry to be blunt, but hun, you know it’s true. I want to tell you to just accept that your hair is dark blond, not white … Continue reading