Stone

Chirping crickets tell me Im doing the right thing
by not saying a word, of how I feel, welling up inside
like a balloon filled with cold water,
By touch, Im cold. But not poetically.
Im just cold.

Stone is the edge of choice,
smooth.. collected
like the stones found in rivers
and streams when you were a child.
Fascinated by how soft something can be
that is so hard.

This time tomorrow.

I woke up this morning to my mom laughing hysterically. At first, irritated by waking up I frowned and cursed who dare broke my nightmares... after all they must be finished but then I realized who was laughing. Fully awake I laughed too out of pure spite. Mom was on the phone with this man she met while working at target pharmacy. It was a new person in her life. After all these years of turmoil and heartbreak and things I have yet to cry over... she found someone again. It just shows how resilient life is, love is, friendship is. It really impacted me this morning.

Mom left to go have lunch with him, leaving me at home with stieg larsson and a frozen pizza. Alfie, my ten pound of terror for a dog, persistently tore my kitchen apart trying to reach the counter where sausage, pepperoni, and ham blended together to give off an aroma that no living, hungry animal would pass up with out a fight.

I slept after gorging through three pieces of greasy pizza. Woke. And realized something.

Its the little things that make you who you are and make you happy. God what a simple and long over due epiphany.

Smile, because there is a glass of milk and a set of arms around you.

Today is August Third

My grandmother Peggy died a year ago exactly today. At 8:45 I will be at her grave, probably laughing at all the stupid things that happened and all the good memories. Happy tears for sure.

I care too much about other peopel and not enough about me. I seem to be crazy according to some people at five oclock this morning. I never yelled out on the lawn like that before. In fact, I dont think Ive ever yelled and argued like that before. I didnt like it. I felt terrible.


I miss her. All the memories of this day still haunt me. The gurgling of her lungs filling with water and the slow rhythm of a life slowly slipping away. The warm walls and the numbing heat from outside. I never slept so good as that day.

I have felt so alone this past year.

Stieg Larson is my hero.

I finally have the emotional energy to let myself write again. Gah.


I could sit here and talk about all that has happened, but that would take a few hours and a couple breaks for some good tears and laughing.

To sum in up. I am changed... for the better.

I started reading these books by stieg larson. The first one is called The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Lisbeth Salander is my new ulimate hero. SHe is everything I want to be in a way. Strong, resilient, smart, and is completely moral. She is strongly misunderstood and honestly I feel the same way. I find beauty in her that I strive to have. This doesnt make much sense if you havnt read the books... so Ill move on to something more understandable.

A girl with Salander's heart


I dont know how to
stay still long enough
for you to see what I
feel, in my gaze while you
gaze at something else,
in the length of my arms
barely long enough to hold you,
all mine.

I am not afraid of being alone.

I dont know how to
stay still long enough,
to be enough.
Im not looking for happiness
Im not looking for forgiveness

I am messed up just like the rest of us,
and damn, I am ashamed that I cant amount
to more in anyones life.

I am not afraid of being alone.

I dont know how to
stay still long enough
for pictures to develope
without that smear, a faceless
me with no bearing eyes to make you think.

or still long enough to hold those memories
closer in my mind, so that on nights like these
when the cicadas are thrumming faster than
my heart beat and the fuzz on the tv has
more cognitive thoughts than me,
I can walk back into the night
when coolers were flowing with fire works
and a red blanket had more significance than
a necklace.

I am not afraid of being alone...

Im afraid of having nothing to show for it.

Seattle

I will be in seattle for an entire week!

: D

We are all just average with average love and hate

opening mouths
with gutteral sounds
that sounded a little bit like
the sounds of love and hate

loud and soft,
light and dark
tone of someone with
something that others
have as well

Go through the motions
go through their boxes
of momentos and shit
its all the same

What a picture

What a picture

The ice cream man sings
as his chiding truck
drives like a snake through
my neighborhood

I look around from the
hood of my car, engine
is still hot from
my foot and pedal

I am alone

while children play

I am alone

when parents pray

I am alone

Looking in the mirror


What a picture

vivance was closer to me
than my own summer skin
and the cold hands of love
that I thought exists.

The truck wails on
through its speakers
"Go back to childhood
and get high from sugar"

.... instead of pain

What a picture

unknowingly taken
unwilingly sacred
chillingly naked
Thank you
for the D O D.

forever and always

June 5th-15th