The Window

The Window

As she passed, the brightness of her eyes took in the window scene. She stood, frozen, looking into the depths, breathing in a heart ache.
It was tangible and real in her eyes, but the cool glass protected it from her. Fingers imprinted onto the smoothness, the etching spiriting away as the pads left them.
This was every wish in her heart. This barrier like a net.
How mocking, how cruel.
So she passed on, broadening her shoulders for what was ahead. Every movement, an ‘if only’. Every step, toward a stone. Every word, breathing out. Every touch, toward oblivion.

She passed and thought it all a lie. That beautiful lie in your eyes.


The Romantics’

The Romantics’

The carousel keeps singing, the longing of goodbye.

A childhood spent spinning, left a dizzy dragonfly.


Time may fly, but we made attempt to cut off its tender wings.

To stop the future coming, a youth drawn up on strings.

Oh what a twisted puppet show we all try to perform.

Convinced that it’s our freedom, for which we’ve gone to war.


Fight fire with whiskey, try to douse melancholy of the soul.

And pray the heat absolves you, and somehow makes you whole.

The wickedness of broken hearts, the shallowness of depth.

To give my all to something until there’s nothing left.


When desert sun burns skin, to which no one gives shade.

The same for those who love alone, filled up with weary shame.

But still it keeps on spinning, that tinny mobile circus.

I hold my head back, dreaming, a beginning with no purpose.


I’m back again, sweet lion, your mouth in frozen triumph.

The horses brightly dressed, beside the tiger are defiant.

Unicorns and elephants, all a handsome roux.

We foundlings, distracted by color, ignorant and new.


Why does the alcohol not wash my memories away?

Why do I stand objective, unto its power play?

Perhaps it’s memory too strong, and loves lost along the way.

If only someone had turned around and decided that they’d stay.


All you need, it may be love, but a sinister of sorts.

To make me choose between the air and a love that hurts.

But it’s a phantom pain, a limb long ago severed.

Like the singing carousel, a mirage of things remembered.


Perhaps the heart misunderstands our diligent rebuilding.

Lost in the field in scrutiny, dirty with the searching.

Behold and take these broken hands, these nails abrupt and wanton.

They worked at love and begged for freedom, but were left forgotten.


Their only use remains upon the grasping of the frame.

Of the metal menagerie and the memories that remained.

Around. Around. Around. On autumn winds we spin.

While the pain glows ever brighter and the light grows ever dim.


Wishes are just lady bugs, swept on a wistful breeze.

Little delicate emotions that hide among the leaves.

Now comes the part where we pretend to not notice each other.

While the fire burns at one end, and we play poker on the other.


Meanwhile, my heart won’t quiet so my thoughts can gather round.

So they come out in my smile when thoughts of you abound.

What a strange contradiction that the joy upon my face

Is not quite reflected in that dark and hidden place.


For I am just a passenger, upon this dizzy parade.

For hopeless romantics, was the art of dreaming made.


Entry for A Snowy February

Entry for A Snowy February

So, stepping away for a moment from the more creative aspect of my writing, I’m just going to vent a moment.

Naturally, as things get to going in forward direction, something happens that causes me to gather the blue back around me. For my family, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve my frustration, and at times I find it hard to control.

Things are going great really. I am fulfilling my dream of sight with an appointment for a Visian implant to fix my vision. I am about to start my practicum and not only get experience, but see the halfway mark in my journey to possibly incredible happiness (or at least a really fun, new adventure). And I have taken matters into my own hands in order to continue the line of my beloved dog through puppies. So many dreams coming to a culmination. And yet, I find myself in a hizzy last night. As cool and collected as I am at work, and as much as I pretend I have everything together, I can be a mess at times.

And why, you ask? I suppose it’s very similar to where I was almost seven years ago. Desperate for a way out of my lovely life because I was feeling so lost and alone and misunderstood that I was willing to end that life altogether. The difference now being that I’ve grown out of that time when I thought death would fix things. Doing things fixes things, not giving up. And doing things has done me a great service in growing myself and getting me to this point in my life. But that bleak feeling is a beast I still haven’t conquered all the time.

So, I went to a concert this past Friday. Andy Grammar. BEST concert I have ever been to. I’ve seen the lights and the fireworks and the even the acoustics of Red Rocks. But I have never seen an artist so in love with his work. The venue was perfect, and very intimate in a way because it was smaller than normal venues. I watched in blatant awe as he played a selection of instruments and even did a little beatbox, singing in perfect tune and interacting with us like he had been here countless times before. But more than that, why he was really good, was the way he sang. I have his music. He’s on the radio and when I first heard his voice on that download years ago, I loved the sound. He’s grown since then, as have I. But watching him do it, being there in person, was…magic. The fun songs are full of energy and you can’t help but get excited. But his deeper songs, my God. You can FEEL them. Every emotion, every strand of hurt or wonder or love. It made you wish every song was about you. That you could make someone feel and sing and express himself like that because of you. His voice penetrates in such a beautiful and daring way that you perk up and listen. I can’t explain it. It went into me. It was amazing and invigorating. A true artist. A legend in his own right.

That night was like an adrenaline rush. I felt so invigorated after the performance and happy as if anything was possible. And then something twisted, like when you bend the wrong way and strain yourself. That thought, unbidden, returned. It didn’t even voice itself really, I just felt something was wrong. Unable to let things go, I sat and tried to analyze it. By the time I figured it out I was full blown mad at myself for letting the blue back in and the weak feelings return after a while being fine. I guess it’s a learning process and I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. But I can’t help but feeling badly for feeling like I might need something when I have so much.  I want love. Not just any love but the right love. I’ve been alone for almost two years now. Not even a sniff of anything real. I want someone who sings those songs about me. Who can feel so deeply that his voice might carry it. I long for someone to share myself with and build a life with and speak to about my secret feelings. My family is so amazing and we are building in our own future together. But there’s that hole there. Little, like a snag in a sweater. Some little thing you keep messing with and is at the back of your mind all the time. Do I need to fix the tiny hole? Need is a big word. I do need it in a way, but I’m good alone too. Strong and capable and good. I want to fix it. I want to feel like my sweater is seamless and stronger than it had been.

The closer I get to thirty, the more I feel as if the tick of a clock is getting louder. I feel my life becoming a Lifetime special, or else I’m becoming a confirmation of a societal stereotype about the modern woman who breaks the secret code of life’s order. Everyone keeps talking about freedom as the kids get older. That I’ll only be in my early forties by the time they’re grown. But to me, that seems so far away. That seems so much older than I want to be when I have time to find someone special. But what’s your option when you have your kids alone and young? I’m not finding someone for just me. I’m finding US a special someone. And that worry is very real.

There’s a worry for single mothers. About finding the right someone to not only be a partner but a model for children. That the love you find will be the example for how they pick their own partners. And how can we accomplish this? How can we bridge the Grand Canyon?

I wonder where God is in all this. I feel so alone sometimes, yelling up in vain on a silent tongue. I feel at times as if I let him down. I had a ton of potential and I squandered it on men, and got responsibility as my reward. It was what I needed at the time though. I needed something to make me make decisions and get up out of bed when I just wanted to die. I probably wouldn’t be where I am today if it hadn’t been for birthing two little responsibilities. I would have taken longer to wake up, to fight for what was right, to ask for what I needed. He knew what I needed. Those kids saved my life.

At this point, I suppose it’s a waiting game. I need to grow myself and learn as much as I can in the interim. I will have to try to not find myself down, and if I do get down then to pick myself up more quickly every time. Waiting is no easy task. But if I can find the kind of love hiding in Grammar’s voice, then it will be worth it. It hurts so badly some nights, but many woman have it worse. I was one of them once.

On the bright side, this venting helps. And the darkness has faded to blue. Back to the drawing board. And the bed so I can forget it all for a few hours.

Goodnight all.



Dear you,

I am sitting here and wishing it wasn’t without you. I’m sitting here and wishing I could turn to you and get your opinion, your comfort, or show you something funny. I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me. How much I need you here to understand me. I want to talk to you about my crazy theories about the stars or books or the spectrums of the mind. I want to hear your darkest secret or about that time you felt the dark creeping up against you. I want to hear how much you love pasta or ravens or first person shooter games. I want to laugh about that time we fixed the sink together and got all wet and laid on the bathroom floor joking about the gnomes in the pipes. I need your touch. I need you to tell me that everything will be okay and that it’s alright that I ate cream puffs for dinner simply because I didn’t feel good. I need you to tell me I’m beautiful when I need a shower. I need you just to talk to me about nothing or rub my back. I’m sorry I’m so emotional during certain times, when the memories return and I can’t stop the tears. I’m sorry I hate washing dishes. I’m sorry I don’t know how to act when it comes to a “normal” relationship, I’ve had to be the “man” so long I don’t know how to do anything else.

But most of all. I love you. And I miss you. And I am praying everyday for the man you are and the man you need to be. I’m doing my best to grow everyday to become the woman you need for us to be just as great as we are in my head. I want to be capable of doing whatever it takes, and I know I am. I am waiting for you. And I’ll be looking out the window for you to come.


Trunks and Thunder

Trunks and Thunder

Horses in your pocket.

Ferrari in your mouth.

You go into the night looking for yourself.

You slide among their legs, like trees.

You cling to them.


You hold yourself steady among their branches.

They shade your vision of what’s real.

Of who you are.


But you love the shade, hidden in shadow from harsh reality.

You adore the winds of change.

But underneath, you are quite invoked with envy.

Envy for their bravery, those trees cemented by roots; connection.

You fear coming out from their shelter, fear the open plains

So wide and sweeping.


Who will you be without their structure to hold you?

Who are you without their leaves to cover you up?


You are the night, roaming like a drape of ecstasy and adventure

Leaving in a sudden gasp, disappearing with the dawn.

You are the pain of the axe to their supple trunks

Bleeding; buried beneath the autumnal skies.

You are the fox, hiding in their hollows and their warm damp earth

Hiding from the winter storms that seek to strengthen you.


Where do you go when you’re not among them?

How far do you travel to feign your indifference?


I watch their trunks bend and swing

I watch your words like wind that shakes them.

Like thunder from your horses hooves,

Crashing and bashing their minds among them.


How could you not feel sorrow or sympathy

For the keepers of your shelter?

How could you not, but perhaps it’s true.

That their sorrows are just more trunks to sift through.


I Pondered

I Pondered

I sat and pondered about you today.

How strange it is that you do not see me, that we speak different languages of love.

For I see you so clearly, so many facets yet a simple honest truth in your eyes.

I pondered.

You are the milkyway. Chaos in motion, traveling in perfect harmony. The lights. The darks. The glimmer of a thousand suns. I feel the potential in it all. A hundred worlds to be made. A thousand leagues to be crossed. Spinning, spinning. Motion with purpose and strength. A behemoth of energy.

I pondered.

You are the forest path. Tall and wild, mimicking the sky up above. Paths through the air, through the roots below. Twisting, turning, fluid in motion. I feel the adventure in it all. A hundred worlds to be explored. A thousand miles to be eaten up. Bounding, bounding. Motion with patience and mystery. A slippery snake of spirit.

I pondered.

You are the fire raging. Strength in motion, a graceful dance of light. The heat. The hunger. The movement of a creature, created. I feel the excitement in it all. A hundred worlds to be ignited. A thousand minds to be caressed. Twisting, twisting. Motion with ferocity and beauty. A howl of the heart.

I pondered.

How strange it is that we are people of Babble to each other. Yelling of love into the night, hoping, wishing the other is listening. But, alas, we are strangers in a land not our own, a virus of the heart for each other. Our languages are only our own.

Yet still, I pondered. But in my pondering I only found my love for you. And nothing else seemed to matter.

And a partridge…

And a partridge…

As this holiday season wraps us in its unruly reins, I am in constant battle between nostalgia and melancholy. Between commercials with couples kissing each other and ACUTUAL couples kissing each other, I find my wandering mind weaving its way back to old memories. To the faces and situations that have shaped me since the beginning of my youth. To situations that have plagued me but also grown me, hindered and then helped me become that woman I am today.


To 6 former lovers and the special one to come:

Over the past six years I’ve learned and grown quite a bit. At least I’d like to think so. Each one of you has played a role in that growth, in that evolution of my mind and spirit. And for the one to come, I only hope I’m ready for our adventure when it comes.

To Chris:

Our relationship was anything but ordinary. I, the young lamb unlearned and eager. You, the tail in the tall grass waiting. I won’t get into what happened between us. It is the past of someone I have killed. She was too weak, too unknowing. Too delicate for her own good. I use her now as a jumping block, anger welling up, protective instincts emerging. She was a clown, a pawn, and a puppet to your whim, but it was ill spent. That mistake has not been remade. And it will die in my clutches. I will take it to my grave. The hurt you caused is a sore to my side and I gladly keep it open, so as not to ever forget what fear and anguish can do to you. To never forget the injustices that were done. You taught me a lot about how precious innocence is and how protective of it we must be as role models and parents. It taught me how to speak to those girls and guys who’ve had their innocence stolen. You opened my eyes to how notions and presumptions and judgments won’t stop you from becoming exactly what you looked down on about others. But it can, however, give you the courage and equipment to step up above with new eyes. You gave me courage in our strife to be who I needed to be all along. To fight. For our son and myself. I was there after you got that scar on your eyebrow from the living room table. I was there when you got strep, when you quit on school, when I told you not to go to her party and you got arrested. I was there when you cried because we got the news. I was there. You taught me a lot about the real world and growing up. About what it is to love someone with force and unconditional blindness. And also when it may be time to let go, to be aware of traps and make decisions about what I’ll tolerate in my life. You taught me strength.You taught me sacrifice.

To Matt:

You came in our adulthood at a point in my life that was full of turmoil. I’m always going to wonder what would have happened if I’d have chosen you first instead, that night of ninjas and the corner booth in a restaurant I now inhabit weekly. You taught me about unconditional love. About a fierce love that attempts to overcome and stays despite pushing. You taught me about selfishness and selflessness. About easy love, and the smooth banter of two people who fell into comfortable knowing. I may never know how you feel or felt, but I always felt safe, and wanted, and my best self in the moments we shared. Even if afterwards I fell into uncertainty. You taught me how real those stories from women truly were, about hurt and internal devastation. You taught me how empty unrequited love can feel and how it can make a person seem crazy. But you also taught me the importance of always being true to yourself and speaking your mind, and not being afraid. You have taught me what fear looks like, and how it often disguises itself in many ways. You taught me that men can be just as fragile and scared as women, if not more in an evolving age of rights. You taught me that people don’t change. You taught me about finding yourself, and listening to the wisdom of our elders, and discernment. You taught me the value of myself, even without trying, as I slowly came into my own and decided for myself what was important. I grew in you to know the value of wanting something so deeply but choosing something more important for the future. You taught me love. You taught me foresight.

To J:

We were a short jig in the dance of life. People thrown together by chance instead of choice. It was gravity between us, but the kind that implodes on itself. A supernova. And no one can live there. There are still secrets that lie like rugs, covering up what would be a normalcy in this town of whisper. But it will be many years before you even may have the chance of understanding them. You inadvertently taught me things I can never unlearn, and in some other ways will always be grateful for discovering. You were my pretend, a distraction to cover up the deep longing for another that I couldn’t grasp fully. I needed to feel loved and for a time I convinced myself that lust counted in some way towards that. But alas, it didn’t and therefore I couldn’t stay. I know you wanted things to last, to continue on and flourish. But it was a darkness I couldn’t go back to greet. You taught me how love can make you hurt so badly that you become desperate for the wrong things. I learned how dark the hole and aching can get that you find yourself in all the wrong places. The deeper I went in that hole, the more hopeless I felt. It’s taken a couple years to feel like I’m distanced from it now, but it was a relief to also know that I wasn’t happy there still when I was given chances to go back. You taught me how important self control is. How important it is to take responsibility for your actions and what you do to others. I learned how easily one can give up on what’s important, and how to tell what is important to some people. I learned about family and loyalty. I learned about how blind you can become, to the point you’ll accept anything as long as it’s what you want to hear. You taught me self-control. You taught me decisiveness.

To AJ:

You were there for me when I needed someone the most. A time when I was trying to escape what I thought I couldn’t. You gave me courage and a hand up from the pit in which I was stuck. Slowly, we grew into each other, limbs from vines living too closely. But they tangled. And I was the stronger vine. I always knew what would happen really. I saw it from miles off like a storm you know is coming. But I had fallen in love with our closeness and your spirit. But you can always think a storm is beautiful from far off, until it gets close and tears down your house. Just as you were there for me in that important time before, you abandoned me in the next. A time when self-preservation meant more to you than I did. When your own desires overwhelmed who I thought you were. You became the mirror from which my First stared back at me, a beast of nightmare and pain. You looked less intimidating, but oh the power you held. You taught me to delineate in life what is important and stick to it. To always be true to what you have built yourself to be according to those that matter. You taught me that money can’t solve everything, it only brings out the fear in people. You taught me that love should be based on friendship, but not all friendships can turn into love. You taught me the importance of deciding where you are going and not listening to anymore more than you listen to your own heart. You taught me that looks don’t make the person, their actions do. You taught me to paint wildly, but always give what belongs to others to them. You taught me about smell, and nostalgia, and that filling gaps with comfort and what you know isn’t always the best idea. You taught me trueness. You taught me steadiness.

To Noel:

I’m sorry things turned out the way they did. I hurt you and for that I’m sorry. I got to see the other side of the coin, from the angle of my tormentors. And in that moment I hated myself for it. I understood how easily one can turn to the other side without even meaning to do it. The truth is, with you I also knew. I knew from the start you couldn’t hold me. I was a wolf straining at the lead for open ground and trees and sky. You were the root that digs deep and gets stuck. I was red and you were tan. We were opposites in that way. Destined to misunderstand each other. I saw our life. I saw a vision of it in your eyes that first night. We wouldn’t have fought much, but I couldn’t find the passion in there either. I found safety in you. A calm that cascaded over me, a joy and a revelation for things found. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy the life that wanted to escape from my limbs and create. You were agreeable, but sometimes I wanted a loving disagreement. I wanted things you couldn’t understand, and didn’t want things you also couldn’t understand. I wasn’t in love. With you, I missed the one I loved more from the silence that the calm brought. And when I chose David, he drowned out those whimperings my heart made for the one I really wanted. So I chose him. And I’m sorry for the way I did it. Thank you for teaching me. I learned about myself in those days. I learned about staying true to myself. About how much more it can hurt to use someone, but how you can drown out that feeling too if you’re not careful. I learned what it was to feel like someone was thinking just about me, and how much I needed that and not to settle for less. I learned how important growing up is, and how love doesn’t always grow with you. I learned how scared you can get to live, and how that can trample your dreams. I learned that I can’t let it. You taught me that being grown up is a skill and not a gifting, so we must keep trying to be our best. I learned to never stop fighting for anything that’s important. You taught me that life is unpredictable, but the pools of life are small. You taught me to choose carefully. You taught me bravery.

To David:

Our time was very short. But in that time I became so wrapped up in everything I forgot myself. I forgot to be myself, and forgot that I should never apologize for who I am or for my past. I was so enamored with the presenting of yourself. How we clicked and lined up on many levels. And I fell so quickly, I didn’t expect to hit the ground with all the suddenness of a train. I have grown so much since my days at 20 and 21. I have been forced to grow and mature and be less fickle with some things, because I had little people depending on me and my choices. At this stage I suppose I just couldn’t be as giddy and impressed as I might have been five years ago. I wanted to be what you wanted, oh how I did. But that didn’t work out too well. You taught me a lot nonetheless. With new experiences and new feelings I hadn’t explored before. With you I learned how important family is, and how we should all treat each other with kindness. How I should always seek to be close with my family and tell them I love them. I learned I can’t cook bacon, though I might try now and again, but that maybe I just don’t want to be good at it. I learned how one moment can change your life, just when you think the whole thing has turned gray. I learned that you can’t buy maturity and the joy of having someone the same as you. I learned that you should never give up on your dreams, but that taking life so seriously doesn’t have to be a requirement. You taught me that bravado is everything and will at least get you in the door when you try. You taught me that nothing substitutes for one’s own initiative, especially not the initiative of others. I learned how badly words can hurt and damage you. You taught that all the apples fall close to home most of the time. You taught me that I could love someone and be excited for the future again. You also taught me how important it is to know yourself and your own timing, so that you don’t hurt others because you weren’t ready. You taught me hope. You taught me “to know thyself”.

To the special one yet to come:

Hello again, darling. I miss you terribly. I see you in so many other people that I meet and I can’t help but wish you were here. All these people before you, they have lead up to this point for us. I have learned a great deal and much more that I didn’t write. I hope the timing is soon, that I can stop watching everyone else move forward while I stand still. I’m trying to grow myself. To learn and work and play and find. I’m trying to be more than I was each day. I see how sad people in this life are, how they are just human like me. I can bark and howl and growl at how people are and wish them ill in that moment, but I have also seen the devastation they can face in their hearts. Unseen. Unknown to others. I see it and I pity them, I feel a deep sadness for their emptiness. It gets hard to wait some days. It would be easy to reach out and have whatever I want. But I want it to be right more than anything. And I won’t settle for less. So, hurry along if you can. My fingers long to stroke your shoulders. My legs to entangle against yours. The sweep of hands against coat tails and scarves that hang about our hips on a blustery day. The swish of my dress against your pant leg. My hair in your eyes, deep like a shining pond. The warmth of our laughter watching a movie late at night. Our billowing breath in the night air, Orion standing above us with the moon. Your sun-drenched skin. The dip of your neck that I rest within. The smell of books and the fire between us. This. This and so much more. Every moment. Everyday. Every minute that escapes my lips as I speak a name without form. A name called Love. I’m waiting for you, dear one. For the right time. For that free banter. For those new experiences. For the calm. For the stars imploding. For friendship. For innocence gained.

I love you.


Too Far

Too Far

Strings of emotion straining at attention

Every cell remembering your face, your smell

Each body in the crowd, a warm memory of you

Each glance towards them a disappointment.


Your wings lifted you up so suddenly, I was taken aback

Standing too close to the edge, I stumbled back against the thin air

A gauze of insecurity that I broke through as I fell

So hard I landed, no feathers as you. You were my home.


How comforting was your touch, you hugging me against your chest

So deep it felt like I had found that solid and warm place inside

And suddenly you’re gone. And I feel that a hole has opened

What mighty wind could have called you away so forcefully?


How I adored tracing the line of your jaw, the black heather of your nape.

How I loved exploring the hills and caverns of your muscles

The supple plum of your lips, the green ring of forest that falls upon my bareness.

The slicing grace of your shoulder blades, your hips.


How I recall your voice, tentative but harsh

Smothering my thoughts as we lay together, warm in our cocoon.

A gentle hushing like waves on my pale shores

Your laugh jovial against the cavern walls, your hair wet.


All the others must adore you, your rasping touch

What am I to you but a single blue forgetmenot

Amoung the field of rose petals? Just a small token among

Boastings of love. It will not take you long to find another.


My shock turned to pain and disappointment

My anger born from a place of stolen moments

My feelings a rough stone against my flesh

And a confusion unto my heart and mind.


I stood watching in bleak surrender, taillights

You were too far yet to cry out, to feel my touch

I sat with the words in my hands like pathetic

gifts of the heart, simple, blunt and true.