10 for today

1.
my apartment number is 32, but you have to walk up 4 flights of stairs to reach my door.
2.
i would really like to sit and read my book as you sit next to me and read yours.
3.
i have a fear of racoons crawling into apartments while i lay sleeping.
4.
staring off into space feels so damn good lately.
5.
i worry about my grandparents dying while i am at college. there is still so much i want to learn from them.
6.
when i cook for myself, i always burn the roof of my mouth.
7.
a television, a vehicle, and an iphone are three things i will never buy with my own money
8.
because of my aunt, i will always believe in fairies and full moons.
9.
i seriously miss my best friend.
10.
i giggled a little to myself when he said he doesnt like wine.

A promise to stay true, Blue

every artist needs their muse
every yellow needs its blue
every moon needs to wane
every memory has its pain
every fox will run and hide
to my heart i must abide

Mascara

Putting on mascara is a promise I make to myself not to let it make me cry.

829 Cass Street apt. 32

(lately-

these posts seem to be a long letter im constantly

and continually writing to you.

-ugh)

Kitchen window open
perched like a yellow bird
on my red stool
in a blue t-shirt
looking at the same buildings
or the B W checkered floor
or the paper bag(s) filled with garbage
or the dishes in my sink
or the bills on the fridge
or the curtians,
my phone,
the open cabinets,
thinking about recipes
peanut butter cookies
 (or)
Christmas lights on
Glasses of (contaminated) water,
cups of (who knows how old) coffee,
Papers and pencils,
gum eraser, roll of tap, scissors,
your guitar case(s),
your mic stands,
your socks and hat and electric razor,
raw canvas wrapped around stretcher bars,
unfinished watercolors,
paintings leaning up against the walls.
I am on my belly on the rug in my living room.

 88.9 radio hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmin'
 rain and wet tires and the baritone of my fridge.

jus sayin/jus-so ya know: i friken love my quiet little life.

big red balloon

Hi I like you.

In fact, I believe I love you.

And I want you to know that your beautiful.

Your talented and funny,

Clever and capable.

But your not doing anything with your life.

And it scares me.

Because you could do so much.

And I want you to do it all.
So you can have it all.

Because you deserve it all.

So please,
do yourself a favor,
and go get yourself a big dream,

a big red balloon.

Now inflate that balloon,

that dream,
with all the breath inside that beautiful body of yours.

Then hold onto that balloon,

inflated from everything inside of you,

all of your ambitions, hopes, fears, bad habits, and personality,

and let it pull your feet off the ground.

Dont let go.

Let that big red balloon carry you higher and higher.

You can do it.

Its okay to dream,

and to pour your entire self into that dream.

Because heres the thing,

dreams do come true.

I know,

Because I know you!

 

This thing.

This thing between us.
Its gotten really old.
And I'm pretty sick of wasting my time thinking, crying, yelling, questioning, etc.
On this thing.
So I'm on to new things.
Like creating a new font,
babysitting for professors children,
making paper snowflakes and christmas cards,
going to dance clubs,
discovering conspiracy theories,
collecting recipes,
planning trips to India, New York, Europe, and Alaska,
and finishing that one book I've been reading for 10 months and counting.

three things ive gotten really good at:

1. falling in love
2. building walls
3. holding on

space

swollen and crusty around the eyes
my face feels heavy
my body feels numb
i am numb
from my head to my heart
i question if the blood is still pulsing
i try coffee
a cigarette
some cereal
some sleep
but my own cries keep echoing
off my apartment walls
like ghosts from the past
still tooling around

an ocean between us
i sink below the waves
for relief
until my lungs fill up
and i bob to the surface
swollen and crusty
blue and white
salt water and heartache
fight and surrender

closets

yellow dresses; some tattered, some altered, some still with tags

fall sweaters; some warm, some buttoned, some falling to the floor

delicate blouses; with patterns, and lace, and smells from the night before

feminine skirts; some pleated, some flouncy, some too short to wear

limp bodies; some blue, some bruised, some rotting to dust

dark shadows; with edges, and dark holes, and ghostly breathing

naked skins; some poisoned, some frozen, some pink as blush

male figures; some sleeping, some searching, some floating away

wedding dresses ill never wear
rocking chairs without a home
promise rings ill never keep
record players without sound

pills to make things better
to heal the heartache
to cure the disease
to fix the problem

never escape

yellow balloon

i have this deep hole of hurt inside my soul
and the dirt that you've thrown won't make anything grow
so i fill it with water as quick as i can
but the land erodes further
so i learn how to swim
and i swim in circles in the river of pain
i practice backstroke and sidestroke over and over again
til im just treading water to keep my head afloat
and my muscles get tired of trying to cope
so i sink to the bottom of my deep hole of hurt
and i find myself lonely and starving and broke
i blow a yellow balloon with my last breaths of air
and i float to the top of my empty wide tear

good man

I have a very good man
who i think about dancing with
barefoot in my city apartment
four floors above the street below
back and forth on the creaky floorboards
pretty blue eyes holding my gaze
sturdy strong arms holding my waist
together we'll cradle the night
and rock each other to dreams
in the little world we have created

I have a very good man
who i think about walking with
in winter snow come november december
down dusty slick sidewalks
in the city that brought us together
mittens and scarves and hats on our heads
arms intertwined and a pace we perfected
inside jokes fog the air before us
and laughing keeps our mind off the cold
in the little world we have created

I have a very good man
who i think about driving places with
in a car neither of us own
to a place neither of us have ever been
with music humming, whistleing, swinging
through the speakers between us
the only thing between us
holding my hand from state to state
as we head down the highway
in the little world we have created

I have a very good man
who i think about being with
through summer and winter and spring into fall
growing older together and wiser
growing into ourselves
with conversation and understanding
adventure and determination
as we wax and wane through the cycles
life spins around us
in the little world we have created

Oct 1

apple, cloves, and cinnamon simmer on my stove in my new city apartment.
my boyfriend is on his way over to lock his bike up for the night.
humanities writing assignment is completed.
tomorrow should be sunny.
i have no reason to not be happy.
21 days til im 21.

July 6th

I will remember this when life seems hard-

you playing your guitar
friday morning on the 6th of july
the night before we had our share
of upsets and heartaches and feelings taken forgranted
but we summed up the evening
with music and beer
kissed and made up
on the front lawn and upstairs
salty and sweet
and easy as can be
after eggs for breakfast
you made true love to me

Prayer

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the earth my soul to keep

May I never forget the beauty bestowed

And hold my lovers hand in doing so

Him to Her

I admire a man who can dream out loud
Who can color his thoughts in conversation
I would like a man who is eager to take my cravings
Who can indulge in my soul as I do in theirs
I look for a man who speaks with beauty
Who can tell stories only listened to with eyes closed
A man who sinks into my insides
and swims in my mind
A man who touches me deeper than skin
and never truly leaves
Wishes are bigger than facts
and actions only last for moments
I'll tangle myself in your stardust
If you tell me you could travel to the moon

V

 

We are going to get back to being good at this whole love thing. I'm going to make sure of it.

 Not because you are my forever after. Not because I can't live without you.

But because loving you has made me feel a bit more like myself. 

And I like myself, just as much as I like you.

Nap

I fell asleep in the early evening
and i woke up to it still raining;
feeling as if i cried the entire time. 
You weren't there
and I'm not sure when you will be.

I am a selfish lover,
but I am yours.

Yellow

I am my yellow jacket. You can put me on when the cold chills and shakes your soul. You can take me places and when its warm, you can set me down. 

I am my yellow dress. I have witnessed love when worn, and became love after stripped to the floor. I feel pretty when held and forgotten when left in the closet.

 I am my yellow walls. When night comes with shadows i will darken my tone. And when the sun shines through windows wide, I will glow and kiss all who enter. 

I am the yellow wildflowers. I grow like a weed and drink rain through this drought. I will dance with the many grasses, but stay true to my roots.
I leave with the seeds i plant along the way.

I am yellow. I am all that is yellow. I am all that I am. 

wedding weekend

A framed picture at my aunties house,
I looked at many times:
deep blues,
emerald green & sunflower yellow,
a purple that brags brilliance
fill in a simple skewed drawing of a lady.

"For the longest time,

she would only fly

when she thought no one was watching."

abc's

A. 

Blue elder with orange carrots

B. 

Heartfelt ambition of head on injury

cross the street when all is on its way

never able to escape nostalgia

never able to escape these chains

silent voices and with a loud memory

draw and paint and get it out of yellow

pull it together, your going to loose it

kid yourself, kid him, kid them.

Revert to the past

imagination and dreams realistic and trustworthy

no doubt, no fear

life lessons tied with in bread emotions

I was hopeful to escape

darkness crawls all over me

C. 

An air mattress empty

love made then gone away

motives questioned

love revert

love revert

love reverse

to go back, never I swear

to doubt oneself is to disappear entirely

holding on seems stupid

close to insane

head bang

tears drain

love seems lame

never again

D.

So passionatly a heart floats heavy

proud and always moving toward shore

babies swim in arms so gently

tugging at life rafts far far from shore

settle down in a place so distant

talking yourself into reality

your here!

who's here?

Who's who?

Feelings dim; oxygen inflames them

loud words with psychotic tendencies

haha you thought it would be different

you idiot

E.

You hopeful heavy idiot

loose the weight, skinny jeans

genes I slip into all too easily

let me starve myself

you ask me to deprive myself

independence rings

run to the theater

the movie begins

he holds my thigh

I hold my breath

hold my breast

between my legs

accept

slow dance

fuck

beware

I swear

F.

Past is a ghost who haunts always

proving my feet under my brain

my heart dismiss insane

i've walked

i've ran

i've been around this twister

storm chaser

G.

Couldn't believe karma could return such favors

down with my guard and my secrets and habits

I open up only to clamp down and slam shit

in your face you dirty sinner

god rests only in your mother

told you so

forbidden fruit cooked with basil and cheese

he said please

I said never

now whenever come to me

cum for me

a baby

newborn in the spring

fourth of july

bodies sweaty and panting

one unit we dance

I function

I'm stupid

I wait by the beach

by the rocks

in the city

craving home

carving stone

with fingernails all bloody and raw

no more guitar

music darkens

piano keys

I dream

how dare I

to think you and me and love so sweet would be for me

and your not to blame

its me!

(no stereotype)

truth I speak

finally

H.

Old motives sink in

I remember why I did them

and him

and him

and him

talking myself into it being on a new road

no load

a new mode

a dead end

head against the windshield

bank account drains

for a friend

a sister I swear

stress curdles and sours

a journey in retrospect backwards

fuck that

fuck me

sweetly please

billie holiday and tea light candles

im a sucker for romance

a lover of cleaver words and pretty things

this world full of toxins

loose trash on the highway

95

old and then die

lonely?

Please no.

I can be pleasant and cook

an apron around my waist

your hands around my waist

an angel

my savior

I.

Dependent and incapable you think

trashing my past

recycle my emotions

it folds in waves

covers on a bare back

where your fingers danced

down my backbone

IV

I'm going to believe those are fireflies I see above the trees of my house in the city. And I'm going to make up little stories about each of their little lives. Maybe when I close my eyes to sleep, they come down to the grass and sprinkle stardust amidst the dew. And I like to believe that this stardust stays on the lawn past morning light and onto noon. When I walk across my lawn, whenever it may be, I'll think the stardust sticks to my toes and magically becomes part of my soul. I'm going to believe I have stardust in my soul.

III

I miss opening up the bathroom mirror medicine cabinet and seeing your blue toothbrush. It's been a while since we stood toes to toes in my bathroom before bed. It's these little things I cherish the most.

II

"that would ONLY happen to you!" -chlo

that pretty much sums it up.
(miss ya already)

I

I learned a lot about love when i fell out of love.

I know i am in the right place (now.)

I hope you dont think im lame when i stay in on my night off.

I like riding my bike next to yours.

I need you to know that i'm never going to lie to you (i wont say anything instead.)

I think i have your crepe recipe memorized.

I want to go swimming with you (on the fourth of july.)

I believe you are my favorite person.

I love you.

I have never had this feeling. 

The feeling of so much happiness tied so closely with so much fear. It is not an anxious fear (the kind that keeps you up at night and turns your stomach to knots) or an unrealistic happiness (like a fairytale story with the prince and princess forever after). 

It is a fear that comes from the very deep insides of my soul. A fear that comes with giving entirely. A fear that exists with a risk so beautiful and honest. 

And it blossoms into sweet happiness. 

The happiness that comes from my toes, up my legs, and tickles my insides til my face aches from smiling 

or laughing

or crying

or breathing too close to yours.

A happiness that exists only in the breakdown of walls and through the healing of wounds. A happiness I never thought was possible. And a fear I never thought I'd cherish so dearly.

Passion

the angst of an artist,
the fear of the heart,
the kiss from a lover,
the whisper to the soul.

Holding on

I spend every hour of every day holding onto someone. I am so lucky to always be close enough to kiss the tops of beautiful heads. Loneliness inside loses its ground to the free space I have been given by forgiving myself. And it is by holding out my arms and wrapping around these precious bodies surrounding my days. Early in the morning, little arms reaching back. Late at night, sturdy arms cradling my own. Life and her little gifts; everyday I become stronger by holding on.

5/10

Ten after seven A.M., and I'm trying my best to remember the words to the songs you sung the night before. In a haze of exhaustion, I glance out my drivers side window and stare towards Lake Michigan. Flicking off the radio, I pray unto silence I could recite a line or two. I recall your voice, and the way your fingers ran up and down the neck of your guitar. I can remember the art of your lips forming pitches and tones. The language of your body under stage lights. It was only you. But I forgot the words.

5/16

last night - after hours of uncomfortable miscommunication, we sort through each other. those sweet honest words, the phrase i have longed to share with you, is given life. one something in the morning. we sit cross legged on top of ruffled covers and promise to never stop understanding and listening to what this exactly is.
i woke up, early to your alarm, and wondered if was all but a dream. i watch you slip on your t-shirt, button down, and dark jeans smelling of charcoal. you tell me to stay in bed and tuck the blanket tight around my naked body. then you kissed my check and said, "i love you" just like the night before. a smile overwhelms my sleepy self.  i am able to be exactly where i need to be. it has never felt so real, so life giving, so true.

Waking up

My favorite part of the day is waking up, too early to an alarm, and feeling your warm body next to mine. Your talented hand is discovered holding my thigh or resting on the small of my back. I love your sleepy scruffy face; mouth pursed shut and dreaming still. I climb over you, ever so gently, waiting for my bare feet to touch the ground. And then I look back, craving to climb back in, to caress your warm skin and kiss every inch of your being. But I just smile and reach out to pet your bare chest, uncovered from the sheets. I feel beautiful waking up this way. And as I leave the house, I spend my last few moments with you sitting on my bed, holding you. "I love you," I say once my time expires - almost seven o' clock. A million kisses I give to your face; your beard rough against my lips. And then you smile and utter, " I love you too." I turn away and feel a tug at my hand. You let go and I walk toward the bedroom door. One last time I look back, and you are still smiling. I am reminded of how lucky I am to have such a sweet loving man, and how beautiful my life truly is, waking up next to you!

1/4/12

We talk about the parts that ache, that have ached, for so long. I remember who I thought I would become, who I was, who I am today- with you. I want to answer your questions, and respond to your thoughts. Even though my head spins with context, my mouth lacks sentences, and my lips fail to make sound. I look over to the drivers seat, through the tunnel of darkness pinned with street signs, and search for your eyes. Please tell me you understand this look. My body's desperate tactic for exception. I look for your eyes.
The universe writes no story. For the existence, there is only fate. With fate, there is surprise, karma, and luck. There is the beautifully unexpected. There is the energy between two souls. When you walked into my life, and each time you walk through my door, we begin to write the story. (A story filled with moments.)


For the past years of my life, I only spun webs. There was never a time when the truth was free and my feelings were spoken. I was reclusive, silent, heavy with my secrets. I could not look in the mirror and recognize myself. I ran to and from the shadows of everyday. But now, I feel closer than ever to being happy. I am able to accept who I am and where I have been. I am able to feel beautiful. I am able to seek the truth and the simplicity life so graciously gives.

4 a.m. friday night.

I get so weird. I get so caught up in my head. In my thoughts. In all my hopes and desires. My past haunts me. (But not like you think it does.) Even on nights like tonight, when nothing should be wrong - it is. It all is.

It started with that word. That damned four letter word. The one that has been caught in the back of my throat - surprisingly unfamiliar when it comes to you my dear. It now gags me.

I could vomit when I look into your eyes - I am so sick in love with you it scares the shit out of me. And it's such a real feeling. A good feeling, that everything will be alright (when i look into those eyes.) I crave for you to hold me and promise to never go. Promise I will be okay, and that it will always feel this way with you.

The uncertainty kills me. It slowly carves away at a once so hopeful heart.

I fear rejection. I fear loneliness. Most of all - I fear myself. This damned head of mine so caught up in you. I only hope you feel the same way.

And nights like tonight I could keep you up in conversation - drunk on wine and hours past exhaustion. Only then would we be able to tap into what is really wrong. Because nothing is. I just want I just need to tell you... I love you so very very much (to hear it echo back to my hollow aching heart.)

I feel like I make things up. I see my loved ones for their ideals; I see them and care for them and love them for all that they could so honestly be. (I would spend the rest of my time building and growing and fighting for all you are, and all you mean to me. I would do this, I know, because I love you. Deeply - crazy, intense, heart felt (most literally) love you.)

And it kills me not to tell you. To say it aloud. Not in order to confirm it, or even hear it back, but to set it free. To let it grow and breath, like good love does.

Hold me now, when I crawl back in bed, because honestly, I feel like crying. I feel like breaking down into a million little pieces. This is too much and I can't let it go. Because I want you to know... I love you. I love you. I love you. 

But I will wait, patiently. I will hold my breath, clench my jaw, and bite my tongue. Forgive me if the conversation leads to "I don't knows." I know nothing else. I want it to mean as much as it feels to me. I want it to hold weight when it finally crosses air. I want it to sink deep inside of you (like you have sunk into me.) I want it to be like never before. And as each day passes- it proves that it is. This is all so different than all the times before.

(from a friend)

You always question the love you get

Perfect, yet something you need to perfect

Your dreams are bright with colors you love most

In yellow hues of memories you hold close

Soon you will tire of your present host

You’ll wander again into visions of a ghost

- Abigail J. Ostwald

Books

It bothers me so much that these kids only want to read books that talk to them by pushing plastic buttons.

3/24

i wait for you
past the point of exhaustion
i shower and only shave my legs
i put on your shirt and brush my teeth
sobering up with water and a cigarette
i wait for you
you call at quarter to three
too drunk to call before when you said you would
too drunk to walk to my apartment
and sleep in my bed
and now i cant sleep
i am so angry.

no lies. just love.

i have been so dark
i have been haunted
i have taken pills to make me better
medication to make me smile
i have thought about running
i have thought about death
i have been to the shadows
corners of rooms no one has been
i have grasped at my wheel
i have grasped at my sheets
i have grasped at my sides
to keep my chest from caving in
i remember the bitter tears
i remember the empty aches
i remember broken mirrors
baring a face I dont recognize.

""

"I have always wanted to miss someone like this."
and then we held each other and let our bodies act natural.
we took our time filling in the tiny space these last few days created.
As we lay together my arms, my legs, my fingers and toes, cling to your skin. My heart reaches through my chest...
"You know how much you mean to me, right?"
and your sweet blue eyes were staring sincerely into mine.
we agreed to spend days apart to strengthen the beauty we've begun.
As we sit cross legged, almost nose to nose, I wish once more to spill my words out across the brief air between us...

(I not only love you in the candlelight, late at night; but in the morning when I kiss your sweet face and tangle myself up in you all over again. I love you as I get dressed and hurry myself to the little girls. I wish to kiss you a thousand times before I walk out that door. And when we are together, I love your company, your positive energy, and your unwavering opinion. I love you for your mistakes, your attempts, and your forgiveness. I love you for your beauty, your soul, your talent, and your humor. I love you for your past. I love you for the future.)

Death and Dying

When i die, wrap my body in canvas and paint it yellow. Let the ones i love (the very few) ignite the turpentine. As the color bleeds to the ground, let all that i was, and all the ways this world has affected me, burn too. Let the earth take me back and heal me like it always has. Please plant wild daisies on the place i last lay, and visit me often. You can tell me your secrets, your dreams, your triumphs, and troubles. I will always listen.

The hot water rolled down my back slowly as I arched forward to my knees. I held myself for a while; my toes gripping the bathtub floor. I waited for reality to sink in. I listened to the water accompany my shallow breaths. My oil stained hands clenched my knees. I remembered how to hold myself together. I remembered the raw loneliness in my chest. I remembered the dark insides of my mind. I remembered how the turpentine rolled down the canvas slowly, taking pieces of paint (thick outer skin) with it. The naked canvas glistened beneath. And now my body separated from my mind much the same, as the hot water rolled down my back slowly. I cursed my name.

My eyes will sting all day. My stomach will hollow out and ache. My head will pound pound pound. The blood in my body will beat through my veins. My thoughts stay low for the most part. And then someone will mention your name. Then my eyes begin to cry, and my stomach starts to reach for my throat, and my blood rushes to my head and pounds pounds pounds; louder than before.

I begged you not to turn on the light. But you did anyways.

story of my life

once again- im wishing i was older, more advanced in my life. i am a 20 year old thinking like a 30 year old. i crave love. real love. the kind that promises and grows old.

Am

choosing to be happy
to let you stay the night
telling you my secrets
discovering your entire life
as we drive past the house you grew up in
and lay on the floor looking into each others eyes
we read each other
sing each other
dance to each others songs
we make plans for tomorrow
and the warm days ahead
with you by my side
i do not doubt
i do not fear
i just am

(journal entries III)

2/29
You are gold. A richness, a quality, a sparkle I have never had before. The weight of your precious essence is intimidating yet empowering. Careful not to miss place such value - to spend it, or save it, the best way, the smartest way, the most efficient way or perhaps the most profound.

(journal entries II)

2/15
What is love? Why is it different for different people? Isn't it the most holistic way to care for a person? Why does it come with precautions and walls? Why is that the assumption? One who gives everything but still cannot utter four letters. Because it means so much?
Is love a destination? The last leg of a journey - and then coast til the fuel runs dry. What seals the deal.
But it isn't. Love grows, changes, manipulates, converts, blesses, and sets free. Is is not stagnant, but rather limitless. It is selfless and selfish at the same time. The good of each. There is no harm in the word 'love.' Why does he run from it? What is it to him? Because this word is right there on the tip of my tongue, behind my teeth, on my breath, in my eyes.

(journal entries I)

2/4
Get drunk. Get high. The morning after. Plan B.
Is my entire life in plan B mode? I still fight with the demons inside of me and cry myself to sleep - over you.
"I am going to regret this in the morning, but I need to tell you how much you will always mean to me. And when I am alone in bed, I can't help but ache for the good we once were."
I used to call this desperation. But desperation for what? The poison we were. The raw emotion you evoked inside of me. The fight I became. Those demons that cling to my soul. My heart not able to beat without the hollow echo coming back in your name.
But to love without fear; to love freely. He teaches me this now. And he is my angel. This hook just keeps bleeding and tugging.
I miss my dad the most. I miss the smell of cigarette smoke and colgate toothpaste and the rough of his face when we hug- like only a father hugs his first born daughter. I miss all of his traditions, infant after the divorce, now grown and nostalgic. How when we would go grocery shopping he let my sister and I pick out frozen juice and popsicles, capri suns and air fresheners.

track 1 2012

All at once,
The world can overwhelm me
There's almost nothing that you could tell me
That could ease my mind

Which way will you run
When it's always all around you
And the feelin' lost and found you again
A feelin' that we have no control

Around the sun
Some say it's going to be the new hell
Some say it's still too early to tell
Some say it really ain't no myth at all

We keep asking ourselves
Are we really strong enough?
There's so many things
That we got too proud of
We're too proud of

I wanna take the preconceived
Out from underneath your feet
We could shake it off
And instead we'll plant some seeds
We'll watch them as they grow
And with each new beat
From your heart the roots grow deeper
The branches, well they reach for what?

Nobody really knows
But underneath it all
There's this heart all alone
What about when it's gone?
It really won't be so long
Sometimes it feels like a heart
Is no place to be singing from at all

There's a world we've never seen
There's still hope between the dreams
The weight of it all could blow away
With a breeze
But if your waiting on the wind
Don't forget to breathe
Because as the darkness gets deeper
We're sinkin' as we reach for love

At least something we can hold
But I'll reach to you
From where time just can't go
What about when it's gone?
It really won't be so long
Sometimes it feels like a heart
Is no place to be singing from at all

January 20th

300 cash in my red pocket pea coat
only white girl on this side of town
you left with a kiss
i cried to my mom
angry father on the other line
smoked a cig with no hands
waited for a roomie to pick me up
soon to be behind the counter
only to return again

Chicago

The train there
,
my legs over yours.
In and out of sleep
,
your profile in my peripheral.
The city backwards
,
our palace for the night.
Out to eat
,
BYOB.
As we searched for a taxi
,
the wind failed to give up.
One glove on your hand
,
the other on my opposite.
We held each other through the stares
,
and the music was fine.
When we came back at night
,
there was some sort of love.
The florescent light from across the street
,
we failed to sleep.

H with a V and a couple S's and me

I could cross my legs and hold my breath
but I am reminded of my past
a shadow that never goes away
even as the sun sways in high noon
there is me and there is you.
And I could look in the mirror and hear your words
the beauty you have spoken from honest lips
the truth reflecting in your eyes
I should believe you

Two letters to Two lovers

I want you both to know, and believe that I have loved you. My love for each of you is far from the same. I know the love you have for me is not alike as well.
- I loved you for your acceptance. I loved you for your mind and your ideology. I loved you for your creativity, your knowledge, and your tenderness towards my difficult personality. I loved you for the dream we created that August so long ago.
-I loved you for your companionship and loyalty. I loved you for your soft heart and your passionate temper. I loved the reality of our relationship and the bittersweet journey you chose to walk with me. Although I loved you for many different reasons,  I also have strayed from both of you equally.
-The perfectness and personal growth we experienced during our first few months was inspiring and terrifying. Like everything in my life that is either good or subject to change, I run from. The intoxication of your presence became an obsession. College was too far away and our relationship became empty; physically.
And that is when I fell for -. The rebellious nature of our relationship attracted me deeper into our time together. You became my battle and my very best friend. I fought for you and held you tight. Our time together was excessive, and I enjoyed almost every minute of it's chaos; until your temper and your stubbornness got in the way. The tension between us grew. Our fights became repetitive. I came down on myself hard. I was going to self destruct if my point was not made clear, or understood.
But I missed you painfully once I left. My pride and independence was empty. I did not know what to do with my freed self.
-I know you love me for my grace, my ear, and my mystery. But your lifestyle is far less mature than mine. When we are apart, you are someone else.
-The confidence you brought me was abundant. I know you see my beauty, and our attraction for one another has never faded. But the grudges you carry, and the habits you contain is lifeless. I know you think I have a pretty face, but I dont think you have ever cared to realize my soul.
I dont know what will become of this mess. I dont even know who I, myself, should become. But I do know that I loved you both very dearly. You both have been influential and significant to my becoming for several years. You both are a part of me.
Now bid you both an adieu.
Sincerely,
Cari

delete

you have deleted the photos of him with me
the ones at the wedding,
when i wore a dress that took me two weeks to decide on
the wedding that left me locked in a bathroom crying
before getting drunk and forgetting
and smoking a cigar on the corner with the homeless man
in a city i would call my own
the night before i left to college
with my hair short blonde,
the best haircut i have had in my life
it was the night i stayed up past sleeplessness
fleeting from lover to lover
the hours before anxiety set in,
a terrible rash across my body you couldn't see then,
but under my skin, in those photos you deleted

violet hour

i miss my father

the smell of cigarettes on his worn hands

and on his carhart collared shirt

the way his arms would wrap around me

the kiss he would place on my mouth; i would no sooner whip off with the back of my hand.

i miss my friend

her low voice on the other line

or her dark eyes staring back at mine

gently sharing whispers from soul to soul

as we talked through feelings only she would understand after years of standing by my side

i miss the daisies

their simple yellow faces

and velvet creme crowns

eager to meet my own

as i plucked their beautiful bodies and gathered them in my fist as family
i miss the rain
the tears that fell in exchange for mine 
cooling the early sun
beating against an open window
giving way to everything hidden underneath from uncontrollable time passing

i miss the violet hour

how the moon would feel on my back

the gravel against my bare feet

the stars closing their eyes to the new day

the moment when breath would loose its place in my lungs; making a loneliness inside sparkle

recently [those]

i have been telling those who ask, "i am finally happy; happier than i have ever been."
those reply, "i am happy for you."
but i return to this page and try to write those feelings that come up when life spins silent.
those feelings that grab the back of my throat.
those images that shake my mind.
those parts of me no one knows.
and all of those things that prove those first words of mine to be,
dramatically,
false.

I am truly blessed

After 13 hours of wiping up crumbs, playing with dolls, rinsing little fingers, wiping little mouths, filling cookie trays, washing dishes, folding boxes, rocking and standing and crawling and chasing down little girls- I sit down at the end of this day and feel truly blessed.


7:30 A.M. I am up before my roommate. This NEVER happens. When she does get up we decide to meet for coffee at Starbucks in 15. I tell her about my dream from last night as our triple grande soy lattes arrive on the counter. We wish each other a good day.


While playing Ponies Save The Mermaids with four year old Charlee, I discovered the meaning of "REAL life." Imaginary worlds, simple pleasures, and anything that can sparkle your eyes or your hands.


Later in the day, Charlee spent forty five beautiful minutes mixing paints on construction paper. She told me a story as her frazzled brush dipped in and out of colors carelessly- "This is me in my mummas tummy." A purple circle with orange and red lines falling from the edges sat on top of a blue triangle. Inside was a little black stick figure (Charlee in her mothers womb.) She continued, "My daddy brought my mummy lots of flowers and balloons when I was in the hospital." Swirled gooey blobs of yellow and green outlined the abstract figures. Charlee stopped then, looked up at me, and dipped her brush into the brown paint. Painting over the black stick figure baby with brown she said, "You know, I was supposed to be black when I came out...but I turned out brown...cause that's just the way God wanted me."


As 2 P.M. approached I prepared the girls for 'quiet time.' Charlee watched Little Bear in the den, but could not keep from dancing around the room as she stared at the screen. I told her to try and lay down, and I would be back in five minutes after CC took her bottle. A long five minutes passed and CC fell asleep like an angel. Returning to the room, a second angel lay on the couch; her frizzy black curls framing a suddenly exhausted profile. I turned off Nick Jr., picked Charlee up, and tucked her into bed.
It took only fifteen minutes before the silence was interrupted. CC stood in her crib, big brown eyes dewy and sad, her blankey over her shoulder and nook in her mouth. I picked her up and sat down in the rocking chair. Chest to chest we rocked back and forth; her little hands wrapped around my arms. The room glowed a quiet pink. The rocker squeaked ever-so-slightly. My body rested.


A lady at Gloriosos tonight, after realizing my exhaustion, asked how i was. I told her about my second job as a nanny for two little girls. She looked at me and said, "everything happens for a reason."


My eyes now hang from their sockets. I talk to my mother on the phone. I wait to call my father after ten. "You talk to your daddy the same way I talk to mine." - Charlee


I need to shower. I need sleep. Scott will come after playing his show at Rustico. With my hair pilled on top of my head and not a stitch of makeup on, he will come through the door, "Hello Pretty." His beautiful blue eyes will stare into mine and our noses will touch as we hold each other and talk about our day. He will remind me how wonderful my life is, and I will tell him I know. I do.


Abby said I had this coming for me; that I deserve all this. I am so thankful for the people in my life. I am so happy with my everyday routines. I am so blessed.

big fish

you woke me up from a bad dream in the middle of the night.

i asked how you knew it was bad.

you told me my face was sad, my body was twitching, and my fists were clenched.

i smiled and you kissed my forehead. 

"They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that's true.
What they don't tell you is that when it starts again, it moves extra fast to catch up."

know this...

1. daisies are the best kind of weed

2. swing sets set me free

3. baking is theraputic

4. most of my bad habits i enjoy

5. my moments are my masterpieces

6. 2 a.m. is always prime time

7. yellow is not only a color

8. i want a piano and a motorcycle

9. please let me take care of you

10. red rugs are magical

11. a full moon fills space between people

12. foxes are good karma

13. coffee will not keep me up

14. i would really enjoy holding your baby mam

15. showers get the hottest after midnight

16. trees talk to each other

17. impulses should not be regreted

18. plans are only 12% effective after 12 hrs.

19. if you are here, i want you to be

20. im a sucker for sweet words

SDN

the noon sun, hazy through my curtians
your searching blue eyes, quiet like the morning
skin so warm, the blankets are abandoned
no words are spoken, as your hands sweep my sides
thoughts of midnight hours, dance between us
as much as we both want it, we dismiss it
and when it is right, it will be.
but until then, stay til the afternoon
and let your fingers run my backbone
and your arms hold my body
so broken, so haunted
so desperately wanting,
love will be born again with you.
a better child, raised up in winter
slowly taught how to walk, how to speak
truth, neither of us have been fond of
conceived in the darkest hour
brought into the harsh of december
january shows signs of being mild
and letting this love grow

Paper 3

rather than writing my paper...
i consider buying an indian motorcycle. listening to the royal tenebaums soundtrack.
"hey jude."
i day dream about joshua tree national park. maybe in march.
"look at me, who am i supposed to be."
another cup of coffee with the window open. cross legged on my red rug.
"stephanie says."
January something or another.

50's Birthday Party

c. December 10, 2011. The First Night

Since then, 

stories have been told

and laughs have been shared. 

I have told you my truths; the secrets I have kept.

 You make me believe everything will be okay,

that I am okay,

and that I am beautiful. 

My mother named me Cari