I’ve traveled
a million miles
on an open road
with memories of home
strapped to broken bones.
Mama,
these dreams are heavy
against will
that’s strong as stone,
but I’ll carry these feet
across the desert ground.
With the moon above me
I’ll hear my spirit howl.
Like the wolves that run
protecting
their forest ground.
Mama,
I’m meant to roam,
to let my spirit soar.
High as condors
above the mountaintops.
I know
freedom
comes at a cost,
but so does
happiness
that has to be bought.  
Mama,
don’t you worry
I’ll never get lost.
I have the stars,
and a thin blue line
between the folds
of my map.
I don’t know
these strangers
or places I stop,
but my eyes are open
to the hourglass of time.
Mama,
I’m not scared.
I know
where I’m going.
My destination
is everywhere.
Mama,
don’t you worry
I’ll be fine.
When my cup is full,
and my heart is whole
I’ll follow the stars,
and wander back home.

We are
on the forefront
of a revolution.
Our generation
holds the key
to eternal peace.
We are
the rising tide,
the ones
that will shift
the tipping point
of our world.
We will
ride the wave
to a new millennia,
or let it crash
against
the breakwall.

We have a choice.

Be the lighthouse
that shines
through the storm,
or repeat history
in one more
****** war.

What will you stand for?

I fall
away
to remain
together.
This is
my way.
To hold
my breath
before
diving deeper.
To hold
my bones
just a little
closer.
This is
how I know
I am whole.
When
I have
nowhere
else to go.
No one
else to
rely on.
I count
on my
own soul.
It might
lead me
through
the snow
and cold,
but I know
it will
always
lead me
back
home.

She’s a restless bird
inside a cage
with fragile bones
and broken wings
her eyes were pierced
by her lover’s sting
still
she trusts
though she cannot see
her beak was tied
by her lover’s string
still
she waits
to be set free
silently
she weeps
like the moon
does the sea
begging him
please
*let the caged bird sing.

I can feel her pulsing
through my veins
she’s a silver sun
without a name
her love is like
a fire untamed
a burning breath
of summer rain
she bound my heart
with a silken chain
and held my soul
as she stole my pain
her loving light
hides no shame
between our gaze
there is no blame.

I may
be soft
but at least
I’m not
afraid
of my own
skin.

This journey
has awakened
something deep
inside me
for the first time
in my life
my heart is full
thawed
from the cold
with love
for myself
and the scars
that mark
my soul
will not
go untold
but instead of
ripping me apart
they’ll be let go
reclaiming my divinity
my tarnished spirit
is forever whole.

With every act of certainty
I reclaim my identity.
I deserve to be here.
My past does not own me.
My mistakes do not define me.  
I am whole in my brokenness
— blossoming slowly
into my new found freedom.
I am finally whole
—battle wounds and all
there is nothing
that can stop me now.

November 20th,

Drowning in moonlight
beneath the november sky
the stars shine like lanterns
across the desert night.

The tranquil waters
of the Colorado River stop time,
as patiently— I wait for sunrise.

There’s nothing quite like it
over the San Bernardino sky.

In this life
you will meet those
who hold on to your pain
like it’s gold.
They will
treasure your failures
and silently smile
when you fall to the ground.
It is their nature
to be so heartless and cold
because they don’t see
the love
they hold in their own soul.
The suffering
they see in others
gives them the illusion
of an enlightened mind.
When really
all they have
is a heavy soul
weighed down
from an egotistical point of view.
These are the souls
that will flap their wings
forever
without ever
lifting off the ground.
Then
there are the old souls.
The ones
that give their all
to living a life
that’s pure as gold.
They come from
the roughest cut of stone
carrying the heaviest baggage
under brittle broken bones.
Yet still
they smile
as they pass by
the young souls
desperately flapping
to get off the ground
unaware
of what the old souls discovered long ago
they must
sacrifice their wings
and be willing
to take the stairs
with all their baggage
with eyes full of tears
because that’s the only way
they will ever
get out of here.

I’ve been traveling for about a week now. It feels strange to be back on the road. Living out of a backpack and driving until I can no longer see the lines on the road. Pulling over and sleeping in some sketchy walmart parking lot in some random southern town a thousand miles from home. But I know this open road is leading me somewhere. I can feel it in my bones. I was meant to drive from coast to coast. To see the sunrise over new places. To spark my soul into remembrance — *you are still alive.

I had the oddest dream last night. I was watching myself grow up as a child. I felt as though I was seeing through another’s eyes. I think maybe it was my great grandmother showing me the light I have inside. I’m not sure exactly why, but it was truly a gift from the other side. I felt such a sense of pride that I awoke with tears in my eyes.

there are dreams
there are memories
and their difference
lays somewhere in between

It hit me with surprise as I was standing there beneath a starlit sky. I was so aware of life, so aware of time that I became petrified I would never again return to my kind. But when I opened up my eyes I saw the same starlit sky, and upon this realization I began to cry. For I longed for the place with swirling lightening tides. For the home I’ll return to upon my own sweet demise.

Art
is a way
of survival.

It repairs the heart.

Insecurities
burn her from inside.
I can see it in her shy timid eyes.
The way they dart and hide
masking confidence
with white little lies.

and from this pain
love will grow.

Entry ~
*I wonder what people see when they look at me. A girl with hazy eyes too tired to see? With ***** blonde hair, skinny legs, wearing an over sized black tee. A girl that smokes a lot of ****, and drinks way too much tea. Maybe they see the written travesty of me. Heard the stories of my early identity. How I used to be so easy and naive. Got down on my knees for the simplest "please" from boys who never gave a **** about me. It's no surprise I swore off boys when I was seventeen. Of course it didn't last. Girls never did it emotionally for me. And I wonder how much of this is perceived when people look at me. I can usually see it in their eyes. When buzzing questions of my puzzling past arise. I can read between the lines. I know everyone wants to know why. But there are no simple answers I can give to ease anyone's mind. My past isn't something I care to hide. I'm only human, and we all have a darkness inside. It took a long time to repair my pride. Something that shines bright through the haze in my eyes. I'm not ashamed. I know that I'm kind, and I've heard stories way worse than mine. I'm grateful and healed with a wonderful life. I've made mistakes, but shame is only relevant for a certain amount of time. I want people to see that when they look in my eyes. See that I'm living proof in the complexity of life. I'm the girl with hazy hazel eyes. With tight black leggings and a gap between my thighs. I have a tarnished reputation, and a silent observant eye. Even when I'm silent I'm fully present in mind. If you see me on the streets feel free to say hi, and don't worry I won't bite if you dare ask me why.

Thanks for putting up with
my mood swings and blues.

I learned how to love
by imitating you.

Entry ~
You were the first man that ever broke my heart. It was the day I was born. You held me in your arms and made me a promise that would rip us both apart. You promised to love me unconditionally from the start. But time passed and over the years those words faded from your heart. In the presence of a war when you had one foot out the door. There are vacancies in my memories where a father should have played a part. Like teaching me to drive a car, or telling me don't believe boys that say I love you from the start. Instead, I looked at every boy with tears in my eyes and willingly accepted every single lie, thinking maybe if I part my thighs they'll learn to love how broken I am inside, but they never do. Just like you they leave without a single clue and I'm left alone, used, wishing my daddy would have loved me too. And I'm not writing this to blame you, or break you, or tell you I hate you. I've made mistakes too. Ones deeply rooted in my relationship with you. And I get that maybe you didn't have a clue that your daughter was struggling in the world without you. But I relied on you to set the standard for boys I would let into my heart. By the time I was sixteen, I felt like a tortured piece of art. I learned to love myself of course. Over the years of ripping myself apart I learned to chart the darkness in my own heart. I don't blame you anymore for my broken parts. I'm healed from being angry at you. I'm writing this to tell you I'm sorry for failing you, and I'm sorry you failed me too.

Entry ~
I know you're scared. You should be scared. You're taking a huge leap of faith leaving the only "home" you've ever known. But that home you built isn't four walls, and a solid tin roof. It's your soul. It's that thumping in your chest that keeps you awake at 2am. It's the memories you've stored, locked away tight behind steel bars, because god only knows if those bars weren't there those memories would hit you like the eye of a storm. Calm at first, sweet, but then painful, like shards of glass beneath your feet. And I know how much it hurts to leave. To walk away from so many unresolved things. To remove yourself from the lives of people you rely on, that rely on you. But part of living is knowing when to leave. It's knowing when your environment no longer suits the shell you're in. It's easy to tell when that chapter of your life begins. It starts with a slow depression easing its way in, and an unexplained restlessness. I know how much you fight it. The warning signs telling you it's time to go again. You are so afraid of being free, but your curiosity has its own needs. It was never a choice being free. It's always been a part of your destiny. I know you've felt that unexplainable presence easing your anxiety. And it's okay to breathe. It's okay to just be. To not know where you're going to be next spring. It's all a part of the plan. You need to have faith that those guiding you won't lead you astray. You are being protected, and I know you aren't religious, but when you feel like you've lost your way, fall to your knees, and pray. Look for the butterfly, and have faith that one small act of courageousness will set your life in motion. But you have to be willing to take action first. So flap your wings, and don't be afraid of the tornado that follows. You created your fear, and only you can survive in the wake of it.

There is
blood on the moon,
a message written
in deep red blues,
warning me,
beware
of you.

Were you ever real at all?

I fold my wings at night,
only the dark underside is seen,
and I become invisible
to predators passing around me.

Time moves forward
with an unforgiving hand.

I'm drifting
through my dreams,
occasionally colliding
with a hint of certainty.
I'm higher than I seem,
fighting the concept
of reality as a means.
I'm lost in the sky.
I can't remember why,
but life is just easier
when I get a little high.

Sunday mornings
come and go away.
I see the sadness
written on her face,
when she's lost in sleep
there's a language
that she speaks,
between her lips,
and the tears
staining the sheets.

I'm walking down
the railroad track.
I have a cigarette,
a bottle of jack,
and a wife at home
that thinks
I'm coming back.

I have tired eyes,
with a sweet soul
under a black veil
disguise*.

Your body gets used to the poison.

I am dreaming
beneath lilac skies
of a world with you
where it's easy to find
love and light,
raining down
from the minds
of those like us,
grateful,
blessed and kind.

I rose to
the setting sun,
dove into
an indigo sea,
and let the ink
wash me clean*.

By the time I reached the end,
my mouth was tied in a twist.
Salt water and smoke
rose up from my throat
caged between porcelain,
and sugar sweet lips.
I lay awake,
swaying softly,
in a cacoon of strawberry silk.
Carefully contemplating
the white spaces of time
that kaleidoscope like fractals
between the shades
of falling leaves.
I am at peace,
fully aware of the world
around me.
I am happy,
dreaming of summer sunsets,
and kissing the cherry trees.