it is amusing what kinds of changes can be made in a few short hours. ... it is apparent that i in fact do not want to be alone on new years eve. but where to go? what to do? where are the friends full of love and light whom I was with last year? scattered like leaves blowing in the wind and maybe staying in bed wouldn't be such a horrible thing would it.
alone in my bed i'll smudge my makeup
but what mess does it mean
if i don't go out
don't meet up
and sit here cold.
is it okay to be alone
all i want is a little love
from whomever would like to give it
just a little love
for me from you
on the new day. new year.
but oh here comes the flood
and don't close the gates
it'll just run above
and flow down the road
into your arms
until you're buried
just like me
Friday, December 31, 2010
oh hey, 2011
so this is the new year. -dc4c
such a perfect day to end the new year on. a lazy morning and delightful brunch and kisses and then thrifting on my own, discovering new things, getting rid of the old, redecorating and preparing for all the future holds. here it is, my 23rd year of life and the first new year in a while that i will be entering without someone to lean on except myself. it feels good, it feels great. i feel free. I'm going to do all that I want because this life is for me, only me and might as well since hey, it will end.
I finally feel such a deep true love for myself and it feels pretty great. I can do this, I can take care of myself, I am so capable. and it feels amazing to finally remember who I am, with or without anyone else, friends and otherwise. pbr and annies, perfect new years eve. whole living and a comfy bed in a newly decorated room. I would be quite content to just sit here and enjoy myself. I am going out to meet some friends but I probably won't be gone long, just long enough to have a kiss at midnight and a couple beers and then back to my cozy nest.
Things will be great this new year. they will be the best they've ever been. they will.
I hope you have a delightful new years eve doing whatever it is your heart desires. Really, pay attention to what it desires.
such a perfect day to end the new year on. a lazy morning and delightful brunch and kisses and then thrifting on my own, discovering new things, getting rid of the old, redecorating and preparing for all the future holds. here it is, my 23rd year of life and the first new year in a while that i will be entering without someone to lean on except myself. it feels good, it feels great. i feel free. I'm going to do all that I want because this life is for me, only me and might as well since hey, it will end.
I finally feel such a deep true love for myself and it feels pretty great. I can do this, I can take care of myself, I am so capable. and it feels amazing to finally remember who I am, with or without anyone else, friends and otherwise. pbr and annies, perfect new years eve. whole living and a comfy bed in a newly decorated room. I would be quite content to just sit here and enjoy myself. I am going out to meet some friends but I probably won't be gone long, just long enough to have a kiss at midnight and a couple beers and then back to my cozy nest.
Things will be great this new year. they will be the best they've ever been. they will.
I hope you have a delightful new years eve doing whatever it is your heart desires. Really, pay attention to what it desires.
Monday, December 27, 2010
avoidance
I'm really really good at hiding. Never picking up the phone or calling that person I'm supposed to because everything once again is wound so well that I'm functioning and it's okay this way, even though there's tension on my back. if I call then maybe I'll unravel and I just can't afford to do that now. I can't afford to break down because of all this stuff going on, I need to push through.
My book is out of the closet and living on my bedside table. Maybe tomorrow I'll take it out of the envelope. We'll see.
My book is out of the closet and living on my bedside table. Maybe tomorrow I'll take it out of the envelope. We'll see.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
this is the place where
a metallic rainbow
once stuck,
you can still see the dirt clinging
to decade and a half-old adhesive.
the sun shone through it
and when i woke
the glimmer of color
washed over the supple hills of
my childish face.
this is the place where
a "c" carved into a tile once hung
and my long forefinger
fit curved inside it
like a worm in the dirt.
surrounded by green and love.
the floor, laminate brown
and her bright red walker
that slid right over my toes
and our laughter
ringing on the hour
of happiness.
this is the place where
i learned curiosity
is peeking through a hole
in the floor
and discovering the
basement, and mom with the laundry.
the cold draft blew
against my eyelashes
and batted them for me.
my voice tunneled through the opening
and she looked up
her beauty reflecting in my memories.
this is the place that
taught me walking is easy
but dancing is hard
especially with hurt feelings
and hugs are easy to come by
and hands to hold, even easier.
the crevices fill up
quickly with booms and thunders of
voices. their rolling hearts
are huge.
you can still see where they stuck,
when they said goodbye and left fingerprints.
merry christmas, new poem again, raw, just written, i haven't even read it over yet. let me know what you think.
a metallic rainbow
once stuck,
you can still see the dirt clinging
to decade and a half-old adhesive.
the sun shone through it
and when i woke
the glimmer of color
washed over the supple hills of
my childish face.
this is the place where
a "c" carved into a tile once hung
and my long forefinger
fit curved inside it
like a worm in the dirt.
surrounded by green and love.
the floor, laminate brown
and her bright red walker
that slid right over my toes
and our laughter
ringing on the hour
of happiness.
this is the place where
i learned curiosity
is peeking through a hole
in the floor
and discovering the
basement, and mom with the laundry.
the cold draft blew
against my eyelashes
and batted them for me.
my voice tunneled through the opening
and she looked up
her beauty reflecting in my memories.
this is the place that
taught me walking is easy
but dancing is hard
especially with hurt feelings
and hugs are easy to come by
and hands to hold, even easier.
the crevices fill up
quickly with booms and thunders of
voices. their rolling hearts
are huge.
you can still see where they stuck,
when they said goodbye and left fingerprints.
merry christmas, new poem again, raw, just written, i haven't even read it over yet. let me know what you think.
Friday, December 24, 2010
there will be time?
yes, there will be time but what if now is the time?
be brave. you're brave, I know you are. just do it. don't wait until you're 40 something with kids and a husband in suburbia thinking "where did I put that book I wrote when I was 20?". do it now. just send it out, what do you have to lose?
I opened the envelope that houses my book today for the first time in months. Looking at it was hard because Jake was gone and I didn't have him to lean on when reading my book got too hard. I think I'm ready to go back in though, get back deep down in there entrenched in the words like seafoam tide rising up above my head until I'm scuba diving in the world I created. The characters stand up around me while I read like they have always existed, these people who just needed my pen to release them from their holding places. They stare at me and I know what they're thinking: "why do you keep us locked here? Let us out, let us be seen and heard" I know, I know. I'm trying to build up the courage. It's time though, time to jump and fall so far into the ocean that maybe the sun doesn't shine that deep. Time to prepare a face to meet the faces I will meet. Time to see if rejection hurts as bad as I think it might or if it will roll off just like all the others in my past. I can take it. I think. I do love that poem that I wrote. and the other one, oh and that one too. I have three, all in my own style, all in that style I created that sounds so much just like it's own thing. I love writing. I forgot, I think, I forgot this feeling in my chest of fullness so full I can't stop because if I do then it'll stop and breathing won't feel right at all.
ummmm I just wrote this just now so raw so so so new not coherent, hasn't been thought out, consider it stream of consciousness because it might as well be. but I need to start writing poetry again
Call Me Home
The road was bumpy and my neck
bent under the roof
because there wasn't room enough
in the car for all
of us.
Crowded laughter and windows down
to keep back
that one last shot they
had to have
accosted me.
Sirens called out into the
sky like stars across desert
highways in Bethlehem
and Jesus was at the other end
or you were.
For a moment you held me
in the palm of your hand
like grains of sand I slipped
and caught inside the crevices
of your life line.
Like Bethlehem you saved me
tethered yourself
back to me for just one moment
while the car swerved on black ice
in December.
That smell, like home,
your beard and childhood crafts
hung on walls so proud they beam.
Over the phone you wafted into my nose
and I breathed you in like
saying goodbye all over again.
Like a siren you called out
like a siren you called out
like a siren your night sound saved
like a siren you beamed out bright
like a siren, like home.
be brave. you're brave, I know you are. just do it. don't wait until you're 40 something with kids and a husband in suburbia thinking "where did I put that book I wrote when I was 20?". do it now. just send it out, what do you have to lose?
I opened the envelope that houses my book today for the first time in months. Looking at it was hard because Jake was gone and I didn't have him to lean on when reading my book got too hard. I think I'm ready to go back in though, get back deep down in there entrenched in the words like seafoam tide rising up above my head until I'm scuba diving in the world I created. The characters stand up around me while I read like they have always existed, these people who just needed my pen to release them from their holding places. They stare at me and I know what they're thinking: "why do you keep us locked here? Let us out, let us be seen and heard" I know, I know. I'm trying to build up the courage. It's time though, time to jump and fall so far into the ocean that maybe the sun doesn't shine that deep. Time to prepare a face to meet the faces I will meet. Time to see if rejection hurts as bad as I think it might or if it will roll off just like all the others in my past. I can take it. I think. I do love that poem that I wrote. and the other one, oh and that one too. I have three, all in my own style, all in that style I created that sounds so much just like it's own thing. I love writing. I forgot, I think, I forgot this feeling in my chest of fullness so full I can't stop because if I do then it'll stop and breathing won't feel right at all.
ummmm I just wrote this just now so raw so so so new not coherent, hasn't been thought out, consider it stream of consciousness because it might as well be. but I need to start writing poetry again
Call Me Home
The road was bumpy and my neck
bent under the roof
because there wasn't room enough
in the car for all
of us.
Crowded laughter and windows down
to keep back
that one last shot they
had to have
accosted me.
Sirens called out into the
sky like stars across desert
highways in Bethlehem
and Jesus was at the other end
or you were.
For a moment you held me
in the palm of your hand
like grains of sand I slipped
and caught inside the crevices
of your life line.
Like Bethlehem you saved me
tethered yourself
back to me for just one moment
while the car swerved on black ice
in December.
That smell, like home,
your beard and childhood crafts
hung on walls so proud they beam.
Over the phone you wafted into my nose
and I breathed you in like
saying goodbye all over again.
Like a siren you called out
like a siren you called out
like a siren your night sound saved
like a siren you beamed out bright
like a siren, like home.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
i've kinda been learnin this quick
i've kinda been learnin this quick, that to be happy you just do what you want to do right now and as long as it doesn't hurt you or any one else, it's all good. i've also been learnin that the best way to feel better or good at all even just a little bit is to help someone else out. even if you just make them smile. i've learned this week that there is nothing else in the world like a hug from a ten year old who thinks two weeks is FOR-ever, with the eye roll and everything. i've also learned this week that everyone has bad days, even the snappiest happiest folks out there, and that's okay. i've learned that there are really good things around all the corners, it's just that some corners are longer than others.
i love learning. and i really love feeling like i'm helping someone else, especially in the age of consumerism. my mom has 4 gently used jackets and 3 pairs of uggs for my after school kids and that's just my mother, much less everyone else i asked to donate, and those kids are going to flip their shit. i can't wait to see their faces. that's christmas for me. no more cold ankles!
i love learning. and i really love feeling like i'm helping someone else, especially in the age of consumerism. my mom has 4 gently used jackets and 3 pairs of uggs for my after school kids and that's just my mother, much less everyone else i asked to donate, and those kids are going to flip their shit. i can't wait to see their faces. that's christmas for me. no more cold ankles!
Sunday, December 19, 2010
holidaze
I wanted to give you your christmas present
her peeking face said over the corner of the door. I had forgotten tis the season and how to pick out gifts. It feels like Christmas has skipped me this year and all I want is a hug from my mom and to sit down with my dad and have a good conversation. I used to get so into it, I love making other people happy but it's hard to do when you're so preoccupied with you. I hate that I'm like that this year. I feel like I've been eaten alive by everything else in the world. My room is messier than it has ever been. I'm caught stuck behind this rock on this landslide of time and shit is moving fast around me. I am so completely out of sync with my thoughts and body and ideas. I haven't written productively in so long, I haven't created in months. it feels like years though. I don't feel like me. I want to stand alone outside at night while it snows, in a place that feels safe. like denison. I need to go to granville I think maybe. I need to just be in a place that doesn't make me feel so threatened. That makes me feel normal, or at least a little bit more like me.
I need something a little bit more familiar, something comfortable that I can just slide into seamlessly that will not hurt or pinch, something so my size. I think that's what home is. At least I hope it is.
her peeking face said over the corner of the door. I had forgotten tis the season and how to pick out gifts. It feels like Christmas has skipped me this year and all I want is a hug from my mom and to sit down with my dad and have a good conversation. I used to get so into it, I love making other people happy but it's hard to do when you're so preoccupied with you. I hate that I'm like that this year. I feel like I've been eaten alive by everything else in the world. My room is messier than it has ever been. I'm caught stuck behind this rock on this landslide of time and shit is moving fast around me. I am so completely out of sync with my thoughts and body and ideas. I haven't written productively in so long, I haven't created in months. it feels like years though. I don't feel like me. I want to stand alone outside at night while it snows, in a place that feels safe. like denison. I need to go to granville I think maybe. I need to just be in a place that doesn't make me feel so threatened. That makes me feel normal, or at least a little bit more like me.
I need something a little bit more familiar, something comfortable that I can just slide into seamlessly that will not hurt or pinch, something so my size. I think that's what home is. At least I hope it is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)