I guard myself from feeling because I don’t want the hurt.

I keep myself from falling because I’m afraid of the bruises.

It’s absurd how much I care about a ******* like.
The value subconsciously derived from a double tap.
Refreshing the page again and again.
You are valid, important, and loved... even if that picture you posted on Instagram recently performed like ****.

If something triggers an unexpected love-struck memory quick enough, my heart still skips a beat.

It forgets he isn’t real.
He never was the man I fell in love with.

I didn’t need this city to create magic.
I needed me - fully unleashed, raw and unapologetic.

LA was just the place I finally allowed that to manifest.

Some things we feel are real.
Some are not.
The phantom phone vibration in your pocket.
The effects of the placebo pill.
The spiritual awakening.
The new disciple who was touched by God.
We can feel anything if we want it bad enough.

“It’s so close I can feel it.”

Are the hymns sung in every pew in vain?
Are we all just trying to feel something?


But then again, who knows.
Your lips feel Holy to me.

I am not damaged.
I am loved and lovable.
I will continue to open myself to love.
Radiate it.
Seek it out.
Call it out.
I will be the love I am searching for.

They said they just knew.

“I knew they were the one.“

What a powerful thing to know.

How much uncertainty gets taken out of life. Because they knew.

The bar is set high.
Do you know?
Do you know like they knew?
Don’t you want... to know?

You reminded me I haven’t found what I’ve always wanted...yet.

If the me of the past, present and future could sit me down for a cup of tea.
Oh god how interesting would that be. What would she tell me?
What parts of me are real and which ones are just phases?
How do I find my “true self” and does even that, go through changes?
Is there no right me except the one that can handle the now?
Or is there a best me, that is trying to break out?

Run run run just as fast as you can
You can’t catch me
I’m
Chasing after my next win.
While the enthusiasm I have for my current venture soaks in slowly like syrup into the cedar floor.
Why do I love to run so much?
Why can’t I be happy at a truce?
Why can’t I stand in resolve at the finish line?
Why does the finish line never feel like the real finish line?
There must be another right?
This can’t be it?... Right?

Let me cut them out.
Let me cut out all the good memories from our story.  
Let me paste them together.
Let me paste them into a collage that shows my happiness.
Happiness I only feel with you.
And hope.
Hope you create in me.

that's it. that's the story.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever love someone the same as they love me.
Will it always be too much or not enough or somewhere in between?
I'm not sure why I have it wrong time and time again.
But I always end up feeling lonely or want them more as just a friend.
Will someone ever love me like I love them?
Will we ever walk down the same path and not have to pretend?
I'm not sure why I have these vices but my grandpa I think had them too. I found poems he wrote on a typewriter, back in '62.
They weren't about love but they rhymed in a way that showed he hurt. If I could only know the memories that lay in his body behind his tobacco smoke-infused shirt.

Is this the good part of me that wants this? Is this the angel or devil on my shoulder?
Do I want it because I’m lazy, I’m spoiled?
Do I want it because I want to be my authentic self?
Or do I want it just because I want to seem like a person who is an authentic self?
Or do I want it to be the best version of me? The one I would have been before the world told me what to be?
Or do I just want to be different and this different isn’t different enough and I want to start over.

But no one seems to ever be able to tell me. Is it brave to quit or is it brave to stay?

I remember sitting on my roof, guitar in hand. Singing songs about love and dreaming about boys I thought I needed. I remember wanting so very badly to be wanted. For him to come over to talk to me.

The fantasy. Where the boy comes over to you because he cannot stay away.

You are irresistible.
You are the only one.
You are different.
Finally.
Someone realized it. Someone saw it. HE saw it. While drinking a chocolate milkshake in that ******* green lettermen’s jacket he wore so well. Sliding in on my side of the booth. My chest and cheeks flush with blood racing to attempt somehow sooth my overloaded brain.

Will life ever get better?
What drug gives you this high?
What experience is this satisfactory?

We all want to be wanted. And the spoiler to the end of this story is, that never changes.

I got a new boy.
He makes me dance to the radio a little more.
I got a new boy.
I’ve started day dreaming a little more.
I got a new boy.
He holds me and says, kiss me a little more.
I got a new boy.
The question is always, will it be forever?

I got to the point where I didn’t have enough self-respect to get out of it for myself.

But I did it for my daughter.

Let me explain.

I loved a guy. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I’m not sure if it’s one of those loves that can be replicated.

But like most crazy loves we were toxic and our highs were in the clouds and our lows were in hell.

We did things.
We both did things.
That were not ok.

After we ended it.
He ****-shamed me.  

He called me easy.
Worthless.
A notch on a belt.

It was awful.
It was cruel.
It was All said in anger.

After time went on we reconciled. He apologized for what he said. He tried to make amends. He’d call me and say things to **** me back into this chaos of us.

I wanted to go back.
I still want to go back sometimes so ******* bad that it eats at my soul.

But I don’t.

And I don’t do it because of my fierce self-love. I wish I could say I do.

I wish I dig my heels in and look into the mirror and give myself a fierce talk and I’m good.

But sometimes that’s not enough.

When it’s not.
I do it for my daughter.

Because I will not allow her to have a father who has ****-shamed her mom.

I will not allow her to have a sexist father, who thought less of a woman because of the number of people she chose to have *** with.

I will not sit on her bedside when she’s crying over a boy and tell her she deserves to be treated better when I know I chose I did not.

I will not be the coward that tells her to be strong while gritting my teeth to suppress the memories of abuse I have endured.

I will sit on her bedside.
Look her dead in the eye and tell her, honestly.

I have been there before.
I left.
I’m better for it.

I decided to raise the bar for all women when I took a stand for what was unacceptable and she can and should continue to raise that bar.

In that moment. It will be worth it.

Here's to all the women who have been **** shamed.

Here's to all the women who have been told that somehow a ***** changes who you are.

Here's to all the women who have been called easy, a notch on a belt.

Here's to all of the women who have been told their value is held in their virginity.

Here's to all of the women who said back:
WHAT THE **** are you talking about?  

Then rose up and proceeded to slay in every area of life.

Him: "I don't understand why you're refusing to meet me. Let's just talk."

"Because in the months I've been away from you I've learned to honor one thing more than anything else."

Him: "What's that?"

"My sanity. And I lose mine when I'm with you."

You are goddesses.
You are powerful.
You have the power to create life.
You have the power to not.
You are fierce.
You are resilient.
You are smart.
You are beautiful.
You are a force of nature.

We are a tribe of humans that have be suppressed for generations.

Let us rise up together.

Admire fellow women without questioning your own attributes.

Encourage one another instead of compete like society tries to force.

Fight against the judgement.
Fight for the love.

LET US RISE. TOGETHER.

One of my favorite quotes is from an old guru.

"God dwells in you, as you."

AS you.

God dwells in you as yourself.
Exactly the way you are.

We are earthly bodies. Constricted by time, flesh and resources.

But, there is something we can do that heavenly bodies cannot.

We can feel the Earth. Put our hands in the dirt. Hug each other.

God works through our hands to feel the Earth.

Be kind to it and all of its creatures.

Time is everything we have and don't.

I will choose to live the time I have in a place I want to be.

One day.
You will be able to look back at the person you lost.
And their life.
And honestly think to yourself.
And know it to be true.

"I am glad I am not there."

It might even shock you.
You see a happy moment in their life and you look at it.
Without any envy
or loss
and think.

"Wow. I am glad i'm not there."

For me.
That day was today.

You left because you weren't happy.
Good.
Now fill that void with things that do make you happy.
It is not just your right,
But your duty.

You’re going to mess up a lot.
Each time you’re going to think it’s the end of the world.

It’s not.

Don’t believe everything you think & know you and your future are entirely up to you.

Live your life as if there is no man of your dreams.
Live your life as if you will never marry or have kids.

Provide for yourself and make the lifestyle you want alone.
Don't expect anyone to come save you.

That's what men do.

They don't wait for anything or anyone.
Neither should you.

That's the thing about love.
You can't get rid of it.
The more you give it away the more it comes back.

Today I will not let the past, whether it be yesterday, a month or year ago define my day.

I will press on knowing this day would be wasted if I spend it in the past instead of the present.

I put to lie all of my losses in the grave and press on to the future.

I will remember and not take for granted, not everyone woke up this morning, but I have.

I am privileged with another day and I will honor that responsibility.

I will press forward.
I will do this because of the light in me.
I will do this for myself.
I will do this in honor of those who did not wake.
I will cherish every alive moment today.
I will honor the gift that is life with my best self.

Saw you on the street tonight,
you were walking my way.

You were with Arnie,
I knelt down to play.

You tried to pull him away from me,
Like I was a stranger passing by.

The excitement in his little body, made me want to cry.

I asked you if you weren't going to stop,
You gave in and paused.

I got dirt all over my face, from his little paws.

Everyone thinks their dog is special,
But Arnie actually is.

He has a lightness about him that makes you forget the world isn't sheer bliss.

You looked at me with such disgust and asked me how I was. Hoping it was bad.

I said I was good and asked you the same.

You said
GREAT!
FANTASTIC!
COULDN'T BE BETTER!
I LOVE MY JOB!
I GOT A RAISE!
I'M SEEING SOMEONE NEW!

I said that's great and i'm happy for you.

You pulled him away from me soon after that.

Our little puppy grown up. He wasn't coming back.

I hope you know i'm actually happy for you,
if any of what you said is true.

I wish no ill intent on you.

My only upset is for the girl who comes next,
and the coldness she will one day receive.

I gave parts of myself to you I have never given to anyone.
We shared a dog, a home, a life, for over a year together.

Yet, you act like i'm a stranger on the street.

I get it. We all get mad and say things we shouldn't in fights.

But it has been a month since you've seen me or talked.
So how can hate be the first reaction in sight?

The lack of kindness in your eyes was inhumane.

You are a soul sucker who has moved onto his next victim.
Tossing losses to the side.

You said I was dead to you.
Guess what ******.

I'm Not.

I tried to unblock my thoughts to feel something.

It was a bad idea.

I lay in bed
    My thoughts void

The bad thoughts don't come
    They're blocked

The good thoughts don't come
     They don't exist

The void comes
      An old friend

frozen coke
family matters
sack swing
hugs

at 822 Pine Avenue

late nights
pillow forts
peach cobbler dessert

at 822 Pine Avenue

headstands and trampolines
laughs
a front porch swing

at 822 Pine Avenue

wives tales & mud pies

at 822 Pine Avenue

pecan tree
bench beneath
singing in her sleep

at 822 Pine Avenue

bird fountain and basketball net
a ball needing air
popsicle stains on shirts

at 822 Pine Avenue

mining for rocks down the alley
papa's roof was *****

at 822 Pine Avenue

birthday parties
coconut pies
drawing pictures in the front room

at 822 Pine Avenue

Geraldine stories
flash light animals
sleepovers with the twin beds pushed together

at 822 Pine Avenue

talking in her sleep
frying me bacon to eat
Sunday afternoon lunches

At 822 Pine Avenue

1 husband
3 kids
7 grandchildren
13 great grandchildren

at 822 Pine Avenue

i'm not sure how it works for normal people.
but i know how it worked for me.

it was june.
i was 21.

i got a call.
only a few months they said.
but i didnt understand, he's only 5.
how could this be.
how could god take something so new and special to me.

a few months ended up being 3.
he was buried in a kid-sized grave.
a family broken apart and a boy to never come of age.

before this loss i always thought there was a point.
a plan.
god must have things under control right?

but this made me think.
how could this little one suffer a short life and painful death of there was a loving god?

didnt seem loving to me.
didnt seem like it was real anymore.
didnt seem like there was a purpose anymore.

i dont think i comprehended death fully until that moment.
when i saw that little body lowered into the ground and realized it would never become big.
does it all just really stop?
is there no purpose?

Is it bad how good you make me feel?
Is it odd to feel this normal?
Is it dangerous how safe I am in your arms?
Is it bad I'm falling in love with you?
Because if so I'm bad.

Is it bad how good you make me feel?

And I know we won't be forever and we might not even be for long. And maybe you're not the one but your one. And maybe we don't match but neither do my socks or the plates in the kitchen. And maybe the end will be messy but so is my car and life. So why shouldn't we just enjoy it along the way?

Doubt
So easy to say.
So hard to get past.
I've always had a little bit of it reflected inwardly because I've never been able to attain the appearance I wanted. I've never been quite thin enough. My hair has never been quite long enough. My skin never quite clear enough. And because of this its caused me to doubt other areas. If I can't get in peak physical shape, what makes me think I can become financially independent?  Get a good job?  Start my own business? If I can't control something as simple as a complexion, hair follicle or calorie, how do I think I can take on the outside world?

It's the doubt that eats you.
It's the doubt that tucks you into your grave with the could haves because you cancelled yourself out.
You're problem is not in your thighs or uneven eyebrows. Your problem is you think they're your problem.

Stop taking yourself out.
You are worthy.
You are so. worth. loving.

She always had a way of standing above her circumstances.
Even in the way she dressed, it was like she was going somewhere better later. Yet above her logic and even above her poise she held within her a jar of emotion locked inside for the one worthy. The jar was hidden and no one knew just all that hid underneath the soles of her Jimmy Choo's. And my God she was brilliant, and my God she could make it on her own; but she didn't want to.

There moments when my chest feels heavy and weightless at the same time. Where it feels like it is going to suffocate me or burst out of my chest. Those moments when I'm stressed in a way that is utterly helpless and hopeful.

That's all I seem to be when I'm around you, helpless... But hopeful.

With you I lost.
I lost focus.
I lost friends.
I Lost my will.
I Lost my mind, trying to be on yours.

They say to be with the person you think
about at 2p.m. when you're busy.

Not 2 a.m. When you're lonely...

But you are both of those people.

And all both of you are wrong for me.

I could write that I'm okay being single and I could write that I don't need a boyfriend. And those things would be true. It would also be true if I told you I was happy, and loved my life. But on fall nights with a nip in the air, it would be false if I told you that didn't stay up late and look at cute couples on tumblr.

The inward swarming of my thoughts is overwhelming many times to the point I feel like they are all going in the same direction but cannot find the destination or how to take off. Like bees trying guard their honey when a bear comes for their hive. I feel like the same victim when I compare myself with the ideal portrayed in society. desperately trying to protect something underneath but not being able to keep it together. They slip from their comb into paws. the bees swarm over vacant areas where their used to be sweet things. Where did it go? How do I find it? Can I make more? Is it lost forever? What's the point of comb without honey. Vacancy.

Do you ever hear a song and the melody feels like home. There is one song that always calms my inner buzz. It's like oh there you see, no need for worry. Your melody is this way. Heart. Beat like this. If flyrock 2# isn't playing when I leave this world and arrive at the pearly gates I will be filled with remorse. Because everytime I hear the sound of its melody I go home.

"Your Mac battery is running dangerously low."
It made me laugh that they used the word dangerously.
Just how dangerous could a low computer battery be?
Stall your Netflix watching or your Pinterest spree.
But then I thought about skype calls cut off as a father overseas is watching his baby being born.
Or a start of the wedding march as the bride in white stands adorn.
I started to think about how something innocent can become the most dangerous thing in the world. How the usage of the medium decides the power it stores.
Like a Mac battery being dangerous, another thing which is not to toy.
Three words put together and said in one accord.
"I Love Pizza." is nothing to remark.
But
"I love you." can start a dangerous.
Dangerous.
Spark.

It's funny how something as insignificant like a roll of fat in your mid-section or a lack of a thigh gap can make someone have such harsh judgements on someone.
You could be the most amazing girl in the world, but if you don't have a rockin' *** you will be overlooked.
You can be a complete idiot with a great figure and guys will fawn over you like you are life changing.  

So it's okay if you don't think i'm good enough, or that i'm worth it.

Because i'm going to lose weight this summer, for me. And then you're going to realize I am the whole package. That you can't have.

You will try. Because I now have the body and the brains.
But it will be too late.
You won't be able to get the hotter version of me.
Too late.
You ****.

I just want to be your one and only.
The first one you call when you get lonely.