waiting to exhale

You get what you have been waiting for and suddenly you’re in some foreign land you didn’t know you had plans to visit.  You’ve been holding your breath so long that you don’t remember how to breathe.  Do you hold your breath and then scream, or do you exhale as you’re trembling and try to take another breath without screaming because screaming is actually limited in the effectiveness it produces?  If you don’t get this breathing thing under control you’re going to make yourself sick.  Oh wait…you already have.

You did what you had to do to get yourself to here.  It’s alright to be angry now.  Let yourself feel it, and don’t mistake the emotion for weakness.  Breathe with it, through it and for it.

Just breathe.  It’s finally over.

seven heaven

 

Take my arms and
Take my heart and
I’m so lost in you

I don’t mean to
Love this way but
It’s the little
Things you do

The beauty in your smile
The persistence in your try
The sparkles in your hair
And the glory that you
Carry with you

If I could
I’d make a song of you
And press replay
So I never had to be without
The girl I see today

I’m trying to freeze frame minutes
Save this snapshot of your life
Holding onto seven
In my mind

Yes I’m holding onto seven
In my mind

click and send

My biggest regret is that I did not apologize the moment I knew my words hurt you.  That I did not immediately recant…and tell you that none of what I retaliated with mattered, because I cared not about being right…I cared about you.

But I let that be the end.

Click and send.

We had nowhere to go from there except better.  Back to us.

But I let that be the end.

Click and send…hiding behind non-vocal words.

I wanted to get back to us.  I wanted to tell you I was scared, and vulnerable, and that the slope was a bit more steep than I was able to traverse.

But I let that be the end.

Click and send.

We could have mended, I think.  We could have been more kind.  We could have opened our souls and bared our collective beauty.

But we let that be the end.

Click, send, click, send, click, send…

Destroy.

My biggest regret is that I did not apologize the moment I knew my words hurt you.  That I did not immediately recant…and tell you that none of what I retaliated with mattered, because I cared not about being right…I cared about you.

I care about you.

Click and send.

my world in words

Today I feel pressured because I am short on time and long on tired.  Brain-drained from my day I try desperately to float into my creative space and will something to happen.  Well not just something, but something worthy of my time.  And yours.

Reflective.  Chasing shadows – of memories – of evenings – when there existed an hour, or maybe two, during which I sat alone in my living room while children slumbered in the other room.  And I wrote.  I wrote from the base of my raw heart.

I knew me most in those moments.  And I was able to learn me more with every passing day.  Each memory had its own space and freedom to pass from my mind, to my heart, through my soul, and culminate upon words and paper.  I don’t know me so much these days.  Not like that.

If I had known then that those years would be my most delicious writing moments, I may have done things differently.  I may not have traded two hours to ruminate upon and re-live a day in the life of my ever changing children, for separate bedrooms.  I may not have exchanged the chronicle of our lives for the house that became our home.

Maybe I would have done it all just the same.  Maybe I just need to figure out how to be better in my now.  Perhaps I am subconsciously hiding from the emotion I so easily feel because the rawness is unfamiliar now.  Years have passed since my soul has bared so openly.  Hard days have hardened me.  Strength comes with a caveat of skin I am not always comfortable living in.

I would float all day in my head if allowed.  Thought and word allure and tempt me constantly.  They know, as I do, the craving that satiates me…and they will win one day.

promise they will.

paper bridges

I don’t know whether you know this-

But you did not have to strip our dignity from us.

I don’t know whether you know this-

But you are capable of so much more.

I don’t know whether you know this-

But we gave you our hearts, souls, and families…

Time which cannot be returned.

I don’t know whether you know this-

But we truly cared for it, and you.

I don’t know whether you know this-

But you destroyed all that.

I don’t know whether you care-

But you burned a million holes into my heart…

And soul, and…

I don’t know whether you will ever understand this-

But thank you for giving me the life I thought only existed…

In my dreams.

prideless lion

Embarassment

kept me from kissing you

Pride

kept me from admitting my

Embarassment

Shame

stifled my

Pride

until, suddenly,

i was

Nobody

 

the house of emil white

Big Sur trees and seemingly angry ocean waves.  Kerouac in a cabin trying desperately to save his life. The air exudes literature and the struggle that is writing – (and living) – at least for me it does.

My mind is full of wonderings about those who wrote me here with their words and made it feel like home.  I cannot help but spill with the joy that is no longer buried under a fog of mediocre existence.  Constantly evolving mind and soul you never give up.  Endlessly searching cycles of you repeat themselves with variations in bravery and grace.

I could stare for hours at your froths of icy blue while fondling the books of my mentors and stepping lightly on creaky wooden floors.

the day after

she shines humbly,

glistening with hope and beauty

her faults scream at her

and she buries herself

in his warmth

ashamed, that

life has intruded

upon her soul

still, she falls ever deeper

into him

undated

Circle encircling me.  Protection?  Safety ribbons flowing and clutching, offering the promise of a life other than this.  Different.  The picture flashes before me but never clear.  Actuality and surety elude.  Days, weeks, months pass by.  No difference. Arms encircle and hold me tight. Encircle and flow with love around and through each part of my being.

Circle suffocates.

Circle spins round and round and eventually tires and falls at my feet.

Encircle self.

cocoon

in bed alone, yet

he, too, is

there, but

not there…

blankets securely fastened

about, and around…

him,

no possibility of

skin

touching

skin

touching

skin…

i know my place, and

tonight…

it is

lonely

 

weak

Lonely tonight finds my arms figuratively reaching out to touch you, yet I know that is not fair.  It is only in my weakest moments that I reach for you, and only because the burden of holding myself up alone is temporarily too much to bear.  The breaking down of me is always temporary, though.  Thinking of you tonight is met with tears in my eyes and I wish I understood the impetus for the salt-laced droplets to linger.

I prefer my emotions attached to clear associations.

more than

Tears well up and will their salty selves to fall from my eyes as I fight to hold them back.  Insecurity washes over me, and I mourn me as the corners of my eyes pull and sting with pain.  Sadness consumes my being.  Tears beg now to crash and fall hard and fully.  Wash me clean and allow me to begin again.

I hold my own hand.  I feel my strength and resolve attempting a return to me.  I search for a place that is larger and more powerful than my sadness.

I am worthy to me.