Graffiti

The side of the road
is our blog.
We posted our poetry
on the side walks
and walls where
the world can see.
This feeling
makes handcuffs
and community service
feel like a party.
As long as train passengers
look up and recognize
where there was love.

A Challenge

She is the type of person
who puts falling in love
on her bucket list
right up there
with visiting each continent
and overcoming her fear
of jumping into
water.

You cannot convince one
like that
with the normal gestures.
Just be almost
unachievable.

Fear

I convince myself

you loved me

                so much

                you went

                              away. 

It happened to be

the one 

time

I was prepared

to stay. 

Maybe we should start

running

together. 

To those who didn't get away

I keep you all in a jar

like a collection of coins

from each journey, holding

on to those who think of me. 

But what is the point 

of all this currency gained

when you have no value

where I want to be? 

Earthquake

I wake up convinced
the great earthquake has occurred.
The west coast will be consumed
by fractured foundations
and an engulf of water.
But no, it is only I who quivers.
Everything else is settled
while my insides are what trembles.

One Year Later

It has been a year since I lost my mentor and friend, Terry Miller. This post is difficult because it brings up many feelings that I began to divorce over the last few months. Perhaps I should be telling how great a person she was and all the things she did for me in this post, but I instead want to explore those feelings I've had over the last year.

It wasn't until losing her that I realized how truly alone I had become. It's in those dark times you look to the friends and family around you for a bit of light. I in no way want to discredit the efforts some may have made, but overall, there was a sense of loneliness that I had never experienced before. I believe this is because I no longer felt the assurance of someone's support and selfless love. She wasn't gaining anything from me and still wanted a relationship.

Truthfully, some people's lack of plain ole "being there" astonished me. One person questioned my attending the funeral. Others just didn't speak. Some tried and then thought I was too depressing.... Sometimes grief will do that to a person. Because I lived in a place separate from the rest of those who were close to Terry, I felt all of this even more.

Now comes the really deep stuff. The combination of losing Terry and the lack of support, along with a general feeling of no life direction pushed me into a deep depression. When I found out that she had passed I was on my break at my job. I was devastated and literally couldn't pull myself together. I sat by the back door somewhere in between an emotional wreck and dazed. After some time, I mustered up the ability to communicate to my manager that I needed to go. My car tire had a flat that day so my mom had given me a ride to work. While I waited for her to pick me up, I was on the phone in the office with Terry's husband and other friends

That job became a thorn in my side. It somehow was set in my mind as a negative place. And yet I had to be there 35 hours a week. During work, I would be cheerfully talking over headset to customers while crying when no one could see. These feelings piled up. I remember one day in particular. I was walking up the road. There are train tracks. The rail road dinging began and I thought "this is the perfect time". I waited for the train to come, but it didn't. And when it didn't, I cried because I had lost the stomach for life and my opportunity to end it had never shown up. I don't like to admit any of this because it makes me feel weak. But it's the truth.

Shortly after, I disengaged from a harmful environment. I quit that job. I left/was removed from (depends on who/when you ask) my parents' house. And slowly, the worst year ever pushed me to be a more mentally healthy individual.

But where does that leave me today, a year later? Well, it is 1:45am. That glass of wine fit nicely with the emotional storm writing this post inflicted. It's been a year. I'm still here. I value laughter a lot more than I used to. I'm not quite a whole person again. But I'm less fractured than before. Sometimes those feelings kick me in the gut. But I have improved on mastering them. I miss her. I don't think there has been a day that goes by that I haven't thought of her. But I also miss myself. When someone close to you dies, something inside of you does as well. I know that sounds cliche but I can't think of a creative way to communicate it. There's no good way to end a post like this.

I did fail to mention my extreme gratitude to those who financially contributed to me being able to go to the funeral. Also to those who shared their hospitality while I was there. Since I'm saying thanks, also to my Pita Pit family... somehow these people landed in my life at a perfect time. To Val who let me stay with her when I didn't have a home. To Skylah who's goofiness watered my dead garden of laughter. To A... how shall I say this?... for being so self righteous and isolating me...it made a tough decision easier. To PPC, for giving me my space. To Rae for being "that girl" with me. To Seattle for showing me a new world.

And to Terry, for the 7 years of mentoring and relationship. For never giving up on me. For still looking out for me.

Missing

We don't have a picture 

together. This makes me

question how I will wake up

with the ability to conquer. 

Human

It was in the middle

of a drunken

hug with a stranger

I realized I needed

                    to feel 

                   human.

It is just like you to 

miss these big moments. 

The things left unsaid

As of late, I have been feeling that there are things I haven't said that I want to. Since I love lists I thought I would make one in no particular order of these statements. Off the top of my head, there are two people in particular that a lot of these will be directed towards, but I imagine as I type more will come up.

Here goes nothing.

• It isn't fair to string people a long.
• She's SO incredibly fake. 
• You can't expect me to be the adult all the time.
• Why should I be the one to reconcile everything?
• You never gave me a chance to speak.
• Neither did you.
• I'm scared to be friends again...
• ...But I can't seem to stop myself.
• I'm sorry.
• I'm sorry to you too.
• And you.
• And everyone else.
• I really don't like you.
• My confidence and value does not rest in you.
• Thanks for helping me realize I am more than I thought.
• I love you.
• I miss you.
• I REALLY miss you.
• You are not what I want.
• You may be what I want.
• I have no idea what I want.

January Personal Post

It has been a few months since I have made a personal post or rant. Tonight, I find myself alone watching way too much TV and movies. I have consumed way too much salt and not nearly enough chocolate. Truthfully, this night is not incredibly different than most nights. In fact, I started this post last night and didn't even have to edit it for it to be true.

Recapping 2013 is not something I'm interested in doing. More than anything, I am looking to move forward. As is the usual, I created a list of 2014 goals. Here are some of them:

• Color my hair (done, with henna from lush...all natural)
• Drink more water
• Create a tangible 5 year plan
• Cook more for myself and others
• Make a new friend
• 4.0 every term
• Go to more live music shows
• Appreciate people more vocally

I am thoughtful how last year started so pitifully because of situations out of my control. This year has begun somewhat shakey as well but entirely because of my own decisions. I feel like I can handle it though... these are things that can be fixed. I feel hopeful. I am rediscovering myself and what it means to be happy. Cheers to 2014. 

Bird

You are such a child

to poke at my feathers. 

You ran me off in a park 

we could have enjoyed

together. What a pity

you took pleasure in creating

discomfort. What a blessing;

you caused me to fly away. 

After Christmas

The lights come down

from the trees. 

What will this city be?

Only lonely streets with shoes

to keep them company 

A Portrait

She could carry groceries

with the bags

sitting under her eyes. 

But instead she rolled

a basket, mostly empty. 

At the edge of an intersection

she shielded herself

from the world

with permanent markered 

cardboard.