Bass and bourbon notes
Flutter down through my system
And I taste the sound.

Even though the sky is dreary
And of my own thoughts I'm leery
I must not give in to them
Somehow I must think more clearly.

I turned on the living room light
And thoughts of sleeping all set flight
Why I sat in the dark alone
I don't know, but this feels right.

I've taken the dose of vitamin D
I've listened to my stomach's plea
To give it healthy, complex carbs
So I hope today is better for me.

dry your eyes my child
now you know what we fight for
and why we march on.

~~

don’t close your eyes
until the day is done
if you must rest,
then first do a simple task.

~~

you can’t grow stronger
if you let every chance pass
because you can’t win.

~~

don’t bite off more than you know you can chew
being intentional about overcoming your weaknesses
will win over the mindless pummeling of your will to fight
by feeding yourself more than you can handle
and expecting anything less than a stomach ache.

~~

Am I selling my soul to the corporate world
in a vain pursuit of future financial stability?
Should I have bought my future with what little I had
and spent it growing my skills in music and writing
so that I could know they were not wasted?
Should I give up on this new work-from-home desk job
where I'm paid commission and weekly bonuses
and won't see the residual income from renewals for thirteen months?
Can't I have something stable that doesn't bore me to death,
and something exciting that doesn't turn my anxiety to an 11?
I've never had a balance--every job has been one or the other.
And yet, as I yearn for a career in music, I recall my past
where I majored in songwriting and couldn't handle college
and I sigh and realize that jumping to a music job wouldn't "fix" me.
No matter what I'm doing, I will need to have perseverance,
and patience, yes, but also motivation and drive to improve myself.
These struggles that I face now at this job are the same ones
that I've always struggled with--they're part of me still.
And I've always blamed the job for not being a good fit--
and some of them weren't, true--but that wasn't the root of it.

A job that is worth doing
will take effort and drive
and no worthy income
comes by barely getting by
and doing the bare minimum
in order to escape a scolding.
I need to change my mindset
in order to grow above this--
this swamp of complacency,
this mire of despondent weakness,
this misty swath of ambiguous feelings
that have dictated my actions
for far too long. No.
I'll sit and get to work
knowing that I am securing a future
for myself, my husband, and family
and that one day, I will have time
to create art in any way I want
but right now, I have a lesson to learn
about working hard
and rising to the challenge.
Don't let me forget.
I can't look back now.
Up I go, to new heights
where the fearful me
thought the risks were too great.
Up I go, to climb my mountain
and win this battle, and the next,
until I'm out of the doldrums
and onto the path that advances before me.

Here goes.

If your clients all rescheduled, clap your hands ~clap~clap~
If your clients all rescheduled, clap your hands ~clap~clap~
If your clients all rescheduled, and you never feel quite settled, if your clients all rescheduled, clap your hands. ~clap~clap~

How much is this worth?
that is the complex question
that I could not ask.
I was afraid of winning
at too high a cost,
so I despaired of success
and lowered my eyes,
resigned to give up often
and expect little
of the burning flame inside.
But no! I now refuse
to accept complacency.
It seemed safe to me
and I thought I sought comfort
by doing the minimum
and easing my load.
But what I could not have known
was I was stretched thin,
emptied by my sighs
exhausted by my free time
and tempting myself
with the lie that I was weak
and couldn't succeed
if I put forth the effort.
So why the change now?
You could say I've awoken
and it would be true,
'cause I was asleep before.
You could say I tried
and though it was so feeble,
I tasted success
and discovered what I have
and that I can win.
So here I go...I'm trying...
and I know the way to go.
I've been blessed these days:
leaders I didn't have then—
with experience—
are now showing me a world
I didn't dream of,
for fear of being let down
by my shortcomings
and flaws I couldn't escape.
But now I see it—
a future with horizons
stretching far and wide
as far as the eye can see.
All I need to do
is march steadily onwards
and challenge myself.
And then, in a year or two,
I'll have made my dreams come true.

Here I go, head first
Jumping and not being pushed
Into the deep end.

Not trying to impress you, I'm just trying to get by
I've been running out of breath and out of hope and out of time
And if I pass this finish line, I'll just keep moving on
Surprised that I still made it even though it took so long.

'Cause I have failed so many times that sometimes I don't try
I wrap up in my fears and thoughts and curl up tight to hide
But no matter what it is that gets me on my feet again
To go again is all that's left, so I count down from ten.

Ten more breaths until my heart can settle in my chest;
Nine more hours on the clock until I get to rest;
Eight times more that I can tell myself I'm not alone;
Seven more reminders of the way that I have grown;

Six more chances left to give myself the care I need;
Five more minutes off the clock that I can use to breathe;
Four good beats to count inside my steady beating heart;
Three attempts that might not fail that I just need to start;

Two things left to say before I rise up from the depths;
One more time I'll brush myself off and take one more step.

Listen: believe me,
If I knew how to rise up
And overcome them
You would see the shadows crawl
Out of discomfort
For the light bursting, flying,
Exploding forth and
Breaking free of the old bonds
On my now unfettered soul.

I never was the kind of girl
Who hid my face
Was not afraid to tell the world
What I had to say

But this nightmare came
Knocking at my door
I can't let it show
The inside is so hollow, so hollow

This ain't real, this ain't me
I'm not exactly where I'm supposed to be now
Can't let the light shine on me
Now I've lost who I am
The only way to hold it in
Is just hiding who I wanna be
*** this ain't me.

Do you know what it's like to feel so in the dark?
To dream about a life where you know who you are
Even though it seems like it's so close to me
I just can't believe in myself, it's the only thing

This ain't real, this ain't me
I'm not exactly where I'm supposed to be now
Can't let the light shine on me
Now I've lost who I am
The only way to hold it in
Is just hiding who I wanna be
*** this ain't me.

I'm the voice you hear inside your head
I'm why your ears are ringing
You need to find me
You gotta find me

I'm the missing piece you need
The reason that you're falling
You need to find me
You gotta find me

This ain't real, this ain't me
I'm not exactly where I'm supposed to be now
Can't let the light shine on me
Now I've lost who I am
The only way to hold it in
Is just hiding who I wanna be
*** this ain't me.

This ain't me

But I can find who I am
And keep myself from holding in
No more hating who I used to be
*** that ain't me.

the days grow shorter
the nights bring the need for these
artificial lights

Tired and weary,
Torn and worn;
Wrung with wights,
Thick with thorns.

run...
fly...
jump...
swim through the sky

dreaming of flight
wanting to escape
finding my wings
seamless shapes

limitless reach
stretch above my head
galactic needle
pulling infinite thread

field of pyramids
I'm twenty feet tall
stumbling to find
the end of it all

the house I knew
twisted somehow
and all the rooms
are locked away now

the college campus
that I once roamed
with elevators broken
construction postponed

looking through the floor
glass beneath my shoes
wearing a skirt
afraid of the view

someone I've never met
capturing my heart
sweeping me off my feet
are they real or not?

the roots of any dream
might never be found
but none of them are real
no matter how profound.

.where is the joy I once had
the desire burning within me
the passion to create and live
where can I find my soul again?.

So tell me friend, oh where should I now go
To waste my days within this endless fight?
On to the right where nothing is left, or
There to the left where nothing else is right?

This war grows cold inside my growing bones:
I hide my fears within a house of glass.
But joining them means throwing sticks and stones,
For none of us have yet learned from our past.

My questions to the wise are called naive
And arguments with fools lend no insight.
But in the end I long to just believe
In something that can hold me through the night.

Though life and death will steal my breath away
I will not bow to fear, strain, or dismay.

Life may have its
ups and downs and
deep seas before
we hit dry land
But as long as
we can end up
end up happy
end up in love
No one wants to
lose to down days
but we all know
that's how life plays
So it's clear now
if we end up
instead of down,
that's the best end.

I sit in my chair
waiting for water to boil
to cook a cool meal.

Married for 4 weeks...
it doesn't seem like that long
every moment's bright.

Time to boil the corn
I already made the cheese
smoky lime queso.

He's watching the end
the show he started last night
the last episode.

In half an hour
I'll tell him dinner's ready
and he'll smile so big!

I woke up on the couch again.
I've been sleeping there each night that he's out of town without cell signal.
Not that he even lives with me.
But sleeping in my own bed still feels lonely if there aren't texts from him to look forward to.
No matter how many new friends I make, I can't fill the empty spot.
And it's okay.
"Distance" makes the heart grow "fonder", but all I can hope is that it'll make the heart grow.
So much on our minds.
Choices to make and places to go and work to be done.
And the desire to just drop it all for a week and be together is always there.
Patience, I say, there will be a week for that.
So I will wait.
As much as it hurts for the present, it's worth it.

I got up off the couch once I'd written him a good morning text.
I was playing some of my old music and getting lost in the atmospheric melodies, and just pouring water into the coffee machine instead of waiting for the Brita pitcher to filter it, and then use that, was my method for breaking through the anxiety barrier today.
From there, coffee was followed by a desire for food (because coffee alone is just asking for a stomachache) so I thought of my pancake mix.
Here goes. I'm not measuring this out, my measuring cups are all in the ***** dishes pile. I've washed a bunch of glasses and this one will fit enough pancake batter for two or three small flapjacks.
Here I go.

When you're feeling so cold and dull
And when you look in the mirror
  and it's not what you wanted to see
Just sit down and sip some coffee
And put on your favorite socks
Just remember you're you, you're loved,
  and everyone wants you to succeed
So as long as you try, then you'll be alright.
Yeah the results don't matter,
  And there isn't a score to life.
So just try
  and you'll be fine.

Why am I hungry
While I sit and eat my food?
And why am I cold
Bundled up by the heater?
Why do I tell him,
Aware that I'm not alone,
"I think I'm lonely."?
Am I supposed to fall
When now I've grown wings?
Or am I to crawl
When my legs can walk again?
I thought I could see
With eyes opened to the light,
But darkness returns.
Is it just me, or is this
The empty, chilled night
Where loneliness is granted
As effort's reward?
When will the new flowers bloom
Where I planted them?
Will I stand alone again,
Like I did before
When I fell back on nothing,
Lost in confusion?
Or will this dark be broken
To bring me dawn, eyes open?

This is the struggle:
I'm discovering myself,
Fighting the demons,
And supporting the flowers
Whose beauty envies devils.

Won't you keep me dizzy so that I stop spinning
Out of all control when I'm alone

And won't you keep me busy so that I stop snoozing
All the day away when I'm at home

Sing to me, Sera
We're calling you back home
Prozie, Addie, all of our old friends.
Sing to me, Sera
Please don't leave me alone
I want to look at my life through your lens.

Original:
Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace
Wednesday's child is full of woe
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

Our version:
Monday’s child will be a superhero – ABIGAIL
Tuesday’s child never gets a zero – JULIA
Wednesday’s child loves to smile – ASHLEY
Thursday’s child is kinda wild –
Friday’s child is so nice and likes to play –
Saturday’s child is true and won’t betray –
And the child born on Sunday, so happy, –
Is an angel with a great personality. –

Day 33, a review:

Without it, I sit,
And if I'm bored, then I sleep.
With it, I am up:
I look with wide open eyes,
Eyes that see the world
And all I could be doing.
I step with purpose,
Standing tall and confident.
I wake, take the pill,
Eat my food, drink my coffee,
And drive off to work
With an automatic smile,
And I sing along
To the songs I know by heart.
Without it, I sit,
And if I must stand, I lean;
Dragging tired feet,
Holding a troubled tummy,
And wishing I'd wake.
In the end, on these days off,
I find energy:
I discover the reserves
Of serotonin,
Dopamine and endorphins
That my body saved,
Keeping stored for "the future."
My brain slowly learns,
And the fuel to keep going
Isn't out of reach.
So on these days off,
I won't despair or decay.
I used to collapse,
Before I knew my full strength
And what it felt like
To set my mind and finish.
So help me today,
God, let this Adderall work
To give energy
And to strengthen my body
For this scary four-mile hike.  

~didn't get my refill before leaving for vacation~

All those books they made us read,
The smelly yellow-pagers
That weighed as heavy as the guilt
We felt as "zombie teenagers";

Do we remember anything?
The names of the main characters,
Or maybe, who died in the end--
Or the ones who were in pictures?

It wasn't that we hated books--
We didn't understand them;
Before the teacher's spiritless voice
Made us slowly condemn them.

"Memorize the vocab words,
And don't forget the spelling!"
Was that the point of literature?
But definitions aren't compelling.

So all those hours in English Lit,
The days spent reading Steinbeck,
Were soured by the grouchy face
Always looming over my desk.

I always wished someone would say,
"This isn't boring, here's why:"
But I was told to shut up and read
When sometimes I wanted to cry:

"I hate this story! Nobody's happy!
And everyone's messed up!
It doesn't make sense to force it on us
When we're already stressed out."

But we had to read it, because they had to read it
When they were young in school.
This book had an impact in history:
So now, reading it is a rule.

So if it's a must, that's fine, then.
But...why don't we make it fun?
Or talk about the psychology
And learn something when we're done?

A book can't be everyone's favorite.
We're all different people inside.
But please try to make us all interested
With wisdom only you can provide.

The day begins before it should,
and every minute is squandered,
before I jump into the car,
spilling hot coffee in my haste.

Then the rushing wind blows past me,
running through my hair in the dark;
headlights keep up with the sharp turns,
and the thumping stereo lifts me.

Parking, on time, walking briskly
to ensure the grandest entrance
to give a formal impression.
My echoed greeting meets my ears.

Hello, goodbye, I take over,
holding my vigilant station
as I toast bagels with butter
and wait for them to call me up.

"Ashley!" comes the petulant cry
and I manage to answer her.
"Coming!" And I take a slow sip
before heading up creaky stairs.

They want me to pick out their clothes.
They want me to help them get dressed.
I say, "You can do that yourself,
I'm here to do hard things, like cook."

Teasing, admonishing, waiting
for children to do what I asked;
I take one more sip of coffee
and the cup is gone far too soon.

Soon, they are eating their breakfast,
and I'm prepping backpacks and coats.
Something spills, and I clean it up;
then she says she forgot her shoes.

I tell her sister to get them,
but she won't go up there alone.
So we three climb the creaky stairs,
and come back with their socks and shoes.

We run out the door, lock the garage,
and jump in my car for a ride.
"Seatbelts?" I ask before leaving,
and they both ask me for tic-tacs.

A minute away, and I park.
They jump out and both wave goodbye.
I smile and wait for the school bus.
I drive to my next job, next door.

Frick.


Don't feel bad for yourself.
You have it so good.
You have a house
to live in
You have clothes to wear
You have
a family
who loves you.

You have a boyfriend
who wants to spend the rest of his life with you.
Everything is going to be okay.


Bad things ****.
Good things are hard.
Life takes a long time to get right.

Goodnight my darling,
sleep until the morning comes
and wakes you with its gentle finger
of sunlight, shining on your pillow.
Sleep until the clouds break the dawn
and steal away the night
from under the moon.
Sleep until the day is bright
and the time is right
and your eyes open wide.
Sleep tight. <3

All of my dishes, stacked in my room
Am I a slob? Please don't assume.
Clothes—whether *****, clean, or worn—
I know the difference, though they're strewn.

Twinkling lights strung overhead
Match the lamp beside my bed.
With dust my dresser is adorned,
And my favorite chair is red.

I see the beauty in the mess;
Why do you cry in distress?
Mom, I like to live like this.
And I have no one to impress.

Inspiration grips my soul
And gives my mind no peace;
I try and try to let it go,
But silence baffles me.

Sometimes in the darkest night
It's dreams that haunt my eyes
And sometimes, inspiration's height
Looks about agony's size.

Ideas sometimes look like pain
And memories that hurt me;
And beautiful though my song may be,
Perhaps its roots concern me.

But art, it lies within the choice
To make a lie show truth
And find the love inside the voice
Of your heartrending youth.

Don't build your statues with ashes:
Compress them into stone,
And watch as sorrow clashes
With love that builds a home.

Darkness is no shelter,
But is an invitation
For light to burn the better
As fire: my inspiration.

In autumn, my soul feels closer
To the wind and leaves that fall.
I wrap the world up tightly
And my scarf makes me feel tall.

The breeze that bites and strikes me
And fills my eyes with tears
Is welcome when I'm lonely,
When I cover up my ears.

I love just taking comfort
In the warmth of my own skin
When boots and hat and gloves here
Keep all my warmness in.

If only every day got cold,
And every evening froze:
For then, I'd get to hug myself
From my head down to my toes.

One step behind the other,
I keep my eyes ahead.
I'll keep myself together
If I watch where I have tread.

I'm sure I'm being hunted
By monsters in the night.
Not sure if I've been stunted,
Or if this is their true height.

But if the shadows wavered,
Or gave way to my stare,
I'd sing instead of quaver
And stand with shoulders square.

No time to sit and panic
Or just wait for the dawn.
Until I leave the manic,
I must keep trudging on.

Wait until I'm with you,
And then I might break down.
Take comfort when it's through,
When at last pain makes a sound.

Just save me a seat in the closet
I'm fighting my fears now:
Fear was the one to cause it,
But I will answer how.

I sing to voice the colors of my soul.
I write to bring the words I feel to life.
I rhyme to feel that I am in control,
And breathe to know that I am not a knife.
I dance to taste the wind blow in my hair.
I bend and sway to dodge these fiery darts.
I hide to keep my feelings unaware
That everything I reach for falls apart.
I bow to broken people like myself,
But when did prayer become a second guess?
I lie in bed and curse my mental health
And wish for broken bones instead of stress.
    When all is said and done, I cry to feel,
    And hurt myself to know that this is real.

I never knew why standing on a balcony was so unnerving—
Why driving across a bridge,
Or around a mountain with only a short railing,
Made me question reality and life itself.

Tucking me in that night before you went home,
When we talked for an hour about Agency and Free Will,
Before you finally kissed me and left me to think in the dark:
My eyes were open wide as I learned that feeling's name.

"It's like how I could scream, right now?" I asked
And you nodded, "But something keeps you from doing it."
"I don't want to wake up Mom," I laughed.
He smiled and said, "And it would hurt my ears if you did."

Then a conversation later, after you blew a kiss
You turned out the light, and I lay in the dark.
I could jump out my window right now, I thought.
There's nothing physically stopping me.~

If there's a word that you're holding back, say it.
If there's advice in your brain, let it out.
And if anything helps, then I'll take it;
But no man can assuage all my doubt.

I doubt that I'll ever quite make it:
I doubt that my dreams will come true.
I doubt night and day, but I fake it
In case they start doubting me too.

I don't think I can catch my breath now,
I doubt that this air will be clean;
Don't know if I'm close to my death now,
But alive? I just feel in between.

Come and steal away all of my guilt now
Make me sigh and admit I was wrong
For of all of the things my mind's built now
I distrusted self-doubt all along.