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

hi phil

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My skin still burns. The pain feels current, even though the waves of the abuse have long since washed away. Why do I still feel you? Why do I still see you? Your touch leaves a residue; a grime that I cannot scrub off. Your prescence is hiding in my closest, under my bed, next to me while I sleep. I feel your eyes on me when I stand naked in the shower, when I cry alone on the floor.

You are not gone yet. Continue reading

win or lose, mom?

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Look at me. Look me in the fucking eyes. I am here. I am human. I am equal to you.
Look at me.

Listen to the words coming out of my mouth. Or the silent thoughts. The grudges. The venom. The lies. The truths.
Listen to me, hear me. Continue reading

broken, healing

There are pieces of me strewn along the office floor. There are parts of me hiding in the drawers of the guest room. Pieces of me hiding under my bed, thrown into the closets, sleeping under my pillow. Each pile of things represents a different part of me, of my life. They are unorganized and unmindful. They are sad and mean. They are kind and empathetic. They are reaching out to be held. 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

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

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

my abortion

Dear readers, in this post I will cover a topic that I have not yet written about. Since July 2012, I have been using this blog as my outlet; using it as my tool to try and create lyrics of thoughts running through my head. I have written my experiences, my downfalls, my victories. But one subject I had not yet had the courage to share. Perhaps I was not ready, or perhaps I feared stepping into a territory that is often belittled, abused, and harassed. No matter the reasons, I have decided that it is time to come clean. Continue reading

no fairytale

Love
is no fairytale

Perhaps in the beginning,
we see a bit of that magic.
We are swept off of our feet
or we are entranced by the disappearance
of our doubts.
Perhaps in the beginning,
we see that favorite movie
or the ending of that book
coming true
and we think
‘This is love’
and that things will always be that way. 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

midnight musings of lonliness

When I was a little girl I was stuck; always at the mercy of others. It was then that I developed my claustrophobia, my fear of having no escape. I remember being bound so tightly I could not breathe I … 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

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

‘i didn’t get thin’, and other 2012 fails

   It’s almost the end of the world year, and that can only mean one thing: lists. We make lists to commemorate the end of a crappy year, and then we make new ones to overload ourselves with selfish hopes for a … 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