Have a good day!

A lady stood outside of the public school on my way to the gallery this morning. She had been walking, opposite direction of me, but had seen me light up and decided to do the same - standing still. On top of her cart she wheeled in front of her, was a quarter sheet cake from the grocery store down the street. The cake was iced in bright red and blue frosting. A plastic action figure stuck out of the top right corner. I smiled at her as I approached the shared vicinity.
She said, "It was so expensive, but its for my son." 
"It is very nice! I'm sure he will love it." I replied.
She nodded and closed her eyes.
"Tell him Happy Birthday for me."
I realize now how strange of a comment that was. But I meant it. I really do hope that lady's son has a happy birthday.
As I passed her, she returned my positive remark with one of her own.
"I like your hair, it sure is prudy! What color is that platinum blonde?"
Over my shoulder I smiled again and said, "Something like that! Have a good day."

And that is the most important thing to realize-
Its always "something like that." Don't fuss over the small stuff.
And always, always, always-
"Have a good day!"

"we broke up, i'm not his girlfriend anymore."

10/20

knock out all my teeth
pull out all my hair
stab out my eyeballs
shave off my skin
rip my fingernails off one by one

anything but a heart ache

ill run til my lungs explode
ill kiss til my brain goes numb
ill drain my bank account
ill drink myself silly
ill sleep
ill sleep
ill sleep

just to stop thinking of you

my fingers want to dial your number
but they smoke instead
my naked craves your skin
but ill hug my pillow instead

We found ourselves at high tide

Glenn Willis

the ghost of Glenn Willis haunts my apartment.
he undos the screws on my door and lets himself in.
and walks around
and around
and around.
i have yet to see Glenn Willis.
but i've heard him as he creaks around my wooden floor.

Statement (considered)

The heart is the body's testimony to the energy humans naturally carry. We are resilient. We are capable of so much. A love lived stronger in one heart, does not subdue the fact it magnificently existed with another. People come and go; we evolve. A human's ability to adapt is a beautiful thing - humans changing in a way that the ocean ebbs her salty hands at the shore. We are meant to weave in and out of many lives; to hold each other together like a patchwork quilt. Never cut the thread at the seam, or remove the present needle. Both are required in order to live and exist fully.

White

I used to dream about my wedding day.
I used to believe in true love.
My heart has stretched to capacity.
Like raw canvas around stretcher bars.
The vacancy sign continues to flicker.
I have lost a dear friend.
I have lost a friend.
I have lost a sister.
I have lost a lover.
I have lost a love.
I have lost myself.
My heart has begun to crumble.
But continues to beat through the ruble.

city girl

Starbucks on water
Lemongrass green tea
One packet of honey
Dirty feet
Dirty hair
Dirty face
Back to the studio
Turpentine on canvas
Cerulean and ochre
...paint
... ... paint
... ... ... paint

9/30

I can't listen to love songs cause my love don't love me anymore.

9/12

Maybe I'll always be the other woman.

I am not stable enough to build upon.

When these sandals break - its all over.

13 states in one summer.

I know I'll be leaving you... 

hopeful romantic

Love is a scary word. I hope someday this changes. I hope someday it transforms into freedom and peace. 

After loving you, I fear loving another person ever again. The process of tearing down walls and building them back up has made me weary and I am so tired. But the struggle to hold something broken together becomes just as exhausting. Still, I hold on for dear life. Always so hopeful.

I (heart) NYC

I don't want to leave this place. The energy. The potential for the existence of multiple lives. The indulgence of curiosity. The exploration of various interests. The deep culture. The ever present art and intoxicating creativity flow. The history. All of the beautiful people. There is no time in New York City. You are limitless.
The combination of vulnerability and empowerment. You feel connected, yet completely self-reliant. Human resilience sparkles like the city lights - always on. Independent dependency. Moments surround you. It is there - then it is gone. Memory tested, erased, altered, intensified. New York City is romantic.

I feel so alive.

If I wanted it - I went.

If I hated it - I left.

I was greeted.

I was hated.

I was obsessed.

I was ignored.

New York City is beautiful.
The experiences are endless.

afterwit

noun. knowledge gained, too late to do any good.

 
I knew you were on your way. I saw your van drive down my street. I sat in my black lace, mourning dress, pretending to be busy. You walked in - sat down. I could barely look at you. I tried conversing, explaining, apologizing, but I could feel it coming on. My stomach began to rise to my throat and my ears grew hot and my eyes began to sting. You asked me if "that's it?" I don't remember saying anything. My mind went black. My body went numb. You got up and walked out my door. 

- click -

Bright white.

A nuclear blast went off inside of me and I began to shake - blood beginning to boil.

(I reacted.)

I remember sliding on my cheetah print shoes, and the door slamming behind me. I remember talking, or maybe yelling, as i walked, or maybe ran, down the stairs towards you. 
Suddenly - you were outside; I was still inside. I panicked.

"QUICK - think of an excuse." My boots. I needed my boots.

I was now next to you, answering your questions - or maybe not saying a single word? My head was gone - back in my apartment, looking down at it all, crying, pleading, 

"DON'T! STOP! CARI PLEASE!!!"

I was ahead of you - pretending, attempting to gather some sort of composure, some sort of sanity. I dove into the back seat of the van. You were in the front seat - on an island far away. My hands flailed outward, grasping for things - anything. You were so upset; farther and farther away.

Then I was out of the van - staring at you through the glass window, searching for a safety net, security, something. You turned the wheel. The tires rolled forward - or maybe they didn't? But I began to run, next to the van, to the corner, around the block. I could run forever. I would follow you until my heart exploded - until the intensity and numbness went away. I would have ran until we were back in my apartment, watching a movie, playing cards, eating popcorn, making love, sleeping next to each other. I would have ran until I was next to you again. 

"THIS CANT HAPPEN AGAIN! I CANT LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN!"

You yelled. I yelled. You swore. I smacked you. You yelled more. The door slammed. 
And then we were done. 



Cheetah print shoes are not running shoes.   
             

Neurotic

At night I become particularly neurotic.

I have gone about experimenting with remedies.
One in which I read my book.
Another in which I watch a show.
Tonight I cleaned my tub.
Rather than using a sponge or a wash rag,
I found myself using my bare hands.
There was something about the rubbing of white porcelain against my fingertips...

I gave my tub a bath.
As the steaming hot water ran from the faucet in a continuous stream; the bubbles grew.
The air around me became foggy and thick.
The dirty water climbed to my wrists.
The drain was clogged.
I dug my fingers into the drain and pulled at the hair.
Long strands slung out; slimy, and dark with grim.

Instantly, I thought of my dear friend, carrying a child inside of her, years too young.
I remember her fine, dark hair would fall into her face and stick to the sides of her mouth where the spit gathered when she talked.
And we talked quite often.
We grew up together.
I knew her dreams, and she knew mine.
We told each other everything, and took care of each other when the rest of the world closed us out.
She was my best friend, my soul sister.

I can feel my face scowl in disgust as I rip at the hair violenltly.
I miss her.
The water continued to rise; higher and higher towards my elbows.
I pulled harder at the dark hair tangled deep inside the drain.
My dear friend Taylor.
It was no use.

I shut off the water, leaned back onto the pink bathroom rug, and listened to the water ping off the grit.

Rocky Mountain Folk Festival 2013

In front of me, the clouds move to meet the mountains - the stoney red and cool mossy green pockets of dense earth; compacted together over millions of years - since earth was an infant; born of the universes starry womb.
As the clouds embrace the cliffs, the baby blue sky opens and closes its eager mouth - like a robin chick, hungry, hungry, hungry.
The eye of the sun stares out of the sky's undulating body - intense one moment; in overpowering passion and determination - the next minute; cold and mute and denying.
The Earth below takes a deep breath in
and out.
Life Giving.
Torture.
For the passing moment - praising with wide arms for the glimpse of forgiveness that is only fleeting and we are all only kidding ourselves.

SunseT

There is something about the sunsets lately.

The wildness of the sky; overwhelming my lonely body,

 Fragile from the lack of sleep, from the stress, and from too much emotion.

There is something about the twitch in my right eye.

Something about an empty apartment; digging through the dumpster for my precious watercolors, acrylics, and ice skates.

I am not able to say goodbye. I have been deprived of closure.

My eye twitches.

I stay up way too late.

I think about blue, and you, and he's somewhere else. Somewhere I cannot reach.

I feel lonely. Lonelier than I have in a while. Al One.

Don't get me wrong - I am so gracious and excited and feeling alright.

But there is something about the sunsets. 

Its been a long time...

Forgive me for falling off the edge of earth, and forgive me for continuing to fall.

Love and Your Kitchen Floor

Your kitchen floor is black and white, checkered tile.
You are the black squares, I am the white squares.
My dirty spots stand out, while yours are disguised.
We touch each others corners, but never combine.


(And when we try, we turn dark grey.)

Rash

i have been scratching at my throat.
red lines crisscrossing dry skin.
this rash hasn't gone away.
maybe its anxiety?
maybe its irritation?
i tell others its from a food allergy.

i look in the mirror at my reflection.
all of the imperfections.
the rash bubbles and festers.
maybe ill wear a scarf?
maybe ill keep my hair down?
i tell others i am confident.

i bite my tongue until blood pools in my mouth.
i keep my hands busy with wrappers and nicotine. 
i concentrate on paintings, papers, and books.
i delete your number and sleep with an extra pillow.
but i know what this rash is from,
its your poison leaving my body.

facebook

i hate that facebook is the only thing telling me i am "in a relationship."
the flowers, and cards, and phone calls, and looks from our mutual friends tell me otherwise.
the van is still in my name, your shoes are still in my closet, my keys are still on your key chain.
but you say we have broken up.
well if thats this case- this "little daisy girl" wants her daisy crown back.
i am still the queen of my world, with or without you in it.

Universe

When you believe in the universe, melancholy sparkles.
It hurts at first, but then you believe in it.
You believe in everything.
You believe in yourself, in your present and future,
You believe in your past.

Those shadows on the walls,
those ghosts are real,
but they aren't living.
They have no breath left in their lungs.
They are only shadows.
Shadows that the universe casts,
upon dimly lit surfaces,
hard and forsure surfaces.
And it is a truth in front of you.

I will always remember how your face looked,
as it slept in dreams next to mine.
I will always remember how your skin felt,
inbetween my fingers and nails.
I will always remember you in Colorado,
during the thunderstorm,
on the forth of july,
and you with your guitar.

I will miss the love we make.
I'll miss how your body swayed my insides.
I will miss how you made my heart beat,
and my body forget
all the suffering its spent.

You sweet loving man.
You sweet loving man.
We are forever.
At least the important parts,
the parts the universe wants us to realize,
and never forget.

I believe we will always exist.
Because I believe we were always meant to be.
I dont understand a lot of things,
but a lot of things are bigger than merely understanding.
Its just a feeling.
Its just a really big feeling.

feels alright

for some reason- i feel alright. i feel centered.
and this time it hurt me. it hurt to center me.
but since the beginning, you always knew how to do this.
you always knew how to screw me back in;
how to push me hard enough against the kitchen wall,
to throw my feet off balance for just a second,
so i was forced to hold my ground.
and that was just the beginning. 
You stayed as long as it took to stop me from crying
til all of my ridiculous emotions flooded out
til i became what i was supposed to be
at that moment.
ever since i met you, i have found that moment.
where the rain falls in straight lines
and the wind blows in S's
and the stars form crows above our heads.
everything aligns. and in the greatest chaos,
everything feels alright.

the lights are turned down
groans of thunder stifle the sky
as she soaks the earth's skin
her wetness falls in sheets
and her rain licks the hard ground
the wind moves her water back and forth, back and forth
tree branches tickle her wet bodies
and then they shake (or hold still)
til the wind comes in overwhelming desire

Song for You

I've been trying to write, but alexi seems to say it better...

So today I wrote this song for you
'Cause a day can get so long
And I know its hard to make it through
When you say there's something wrong

So I'm trying to put it right
'Cause I want to love you with my heart
All this trying has made me tight
And I don't know even where to start

Maybe that's a start

'Cause you know its a simple game
That you play filling up your head with rain
And you know you've been hiding from your pain
In the way, in the way you say your name

And I see you
Hiding your face in your hands
Flying so you won't land
You think no one understands
No one understands

So you hunch your shoulders and you shake your head
And your throat is aching but you swear
No one hurts you, nothing could be sad
Anyway you're not here enough to care

And you're so tired you dont sleep at night
As your heart is trying to mend
You keep it quiet but you think you might
Disappear before the end

And it's strange that you cannot find
Any strength to even try
To find a voice to speak your mind
When you do, all you wanna do is cry

Well maybe you should cry

And I see you hiding your face in your hands
Talking 'bout far-away lands
You think no one understands
Listen to my hands

And all of this life
Moves around you
For all that you claim
You're standing still
You are moving too
You are moving too

blizzard

There is a blizzard in this city, and it makes it hard to see whats in front of me.

I remember the sun and the green and the august, and i make it back home.

It has been years since i walked the streets without snow.

But some things you just never forget.

tape&glue

how about you be my tape and glue
hold me together when things fall through
the broken parts dont hesitate to mend
id rather not break, id just like to bend
and when cracks in my face let in the rain
cover them up and heal the bitter pain
i might fall and shatter on the ground
but ill get back up when you come around
i wont be dependent or needy
but these emotions aren't easy

big girl

i dont care what you say,

sometimes being a big girl in a big city

is hard to do when your doing it on your own.

i dont care for home anymore,
sometimes clothes clutter my floor
but its not the mess i run from
but the shadows on the walls.

i dont care for sleeping anymore,
the terrors still come while i lay awake
and its not the facts that shake me
but the ideas unknown.

i dont care for friends anymore,
their ears are tired from hearing my mouth
so i stay inside and play
with all these broken toys.

happy facts

i hate facts.
the girls that walk down the street; i wonder what they hate.
i wonder if they yell until the cops come?
or cry when the sun goes down?
i wonder how they keep their pretty faces so simple?
how do they keep the sadness out of their eyes?
how do they keep the guilt out of their smiles?
do shadows fall on their pastel painted walls?
are they happy?
they look happy.
all of those pretty girls...
i hate the fact that those pretty girls would probably make you happier than i can.
im not a pretty girl.
and i hate that fact.

800 W B

i never told anyone this-
but the reason why i loved the house on B, was because it had blue shutters and dormers on the roof, where Sister and i would sleep.
It looked like a real house, the one real families would live in.
Even though you just got out of jail, and the friend of court wouldn't stop calling, and the doctors wanted to put me on those little blue pills,
from the outside-
it looked exactly like it was supposed to look.

sisters

I think all sisters should share a room growing up,
braid each others hair in high school,
and eat dinner together, on a regular basis, for the rest of their lives.

im not here to you

my mouth swollen
my own flesh, thick in the back of my throat
like two hard boiled eggs
except the yoke is still raw and rotten
the eggs burst open
the flesh pockets
blood spews
my mouth swells back, throbbing
i can barely breath
i am flat on my back
ripping at the sides of the bed
clenching the sheets to lift myself up
my head spins heavy
finally i am able to throw myself forward
i see you lying there
deft to my agony
i try yelling to you
i am not heard
tears run down my face
my raw puffy face
you roll to your side in a drunken daze
your eyes flutter open
but you don't see me
you smile and laugh
and mutter some made-up language

i wake up to a foot in the face
and that same smile and laugh and made-up language

Too Dark

11/2/12

I forget what its like to be with my loved ones as a method of defense. All that I have held close has fallen away- or maybe just changed/evolved past my capability. But nontheless, my loved ones evaporate. This space thing is poisin for my head. I roll around in toxic thought with no breath in between. I take in smoke to my lungs and let it numb my surroundings. In return my head speeds. The spinning returns. Stress may have a part in this. I overexert myself out of love for others. Subconsciously. Spider webs. Consequences far greater than before. Disease tunnels through my nerves. Ironically, my lady parts I love with take the fall; tingles between my legs. Ill become a mess again. I will pull myself together again. And then ill josh myself all over again. Its a sick cycle.

To find a soul as sick as mine- would that be the answer?

I invested so much into this but have kid myself with my capability to release all past grudges. I proudly cling to my pain; a trophy in honor of what I will/am able to become. A testement perhaps to all I know I truly am. My core is strong, beautiful, lifegiving. But alone, I become rancid. Can I blame my past. (of course not). I am my only savior. And if I have learned one thing in this life so far it is that life is not fair. Your a sick fuck for ever thinking for a second another one of you exists; a delusional pshycopath for even considering someone will ever accept all the darkness you carry preciously.