4.29.2014

falling.

in a room filled with a
hundred or
one, my eyes always
instinctively find
you

in my dreams, when your
hand meets
mine and i
linger, that's how
i know

i'm falling

2.20.2014

BACON!

bacon for breakfast
my heart swells, both with joy and
dat cholesterol.


written for movaten.

2.14.2014

bottom feeder.

i wear a
smile on my
face and
people think i’m
brave or

something

but i
sit below the
table, just
waiting to pick up the
discards scraps of the
rich and
famous

we call it being “thrifty”
knowing i’m worth more

working that 9-5
paying the bills on time
watching love pass me by
quiet on the sideline
saying everything’s fine

i’m fine



written for movaten.

11.28.2013

endure.

soar wildflower
over sun and moon
through darkest days
with wings
strong as the sea
find beauty and
understanding and
dance

7.31.2013

sex object.

my number’s plastered on the
bathroom walls

and they’re right, i guess. i’m a
damn good time

sometimes i feel like it’s all i’m
good for. but i want to be
beautiful, i want to be
someone’s first choice, i want
to be loved.

i want you to wake up thinking about me, go to
sleep thinking about me, your sleep to be
filled with
dreams of
me.

but i’m not the prettiest or the
smartest or the
funniest or
anything cool like
that.

but i guess if i get
out of my bed and
into the world, someone might
see me for me and

i could have more.


written for movaten.

7.27.2013

easy.

i live my life out like a
spectacle, keeping all
nonjudgmental parties mesmerized with my
wildly exaggerated tales of
romance

i am little apart from my
sexual escapades, i am
everyone's favorite
extracurricular activity

i care too little and i
care too much

all at once.

i'm not the girl you bring home to your
parents, i'm the
girl you try to
get into your
bed

'cause i'm a lot of fun, really
as long as you
keep a safe
distance

7.26.2013

mixed signals.

fingers intertwined, bodies
tangled together, lips
well acquainted, my
feelings not so
reciprocated. still, she
shows me her
heart before she
runs for the
door.

and she’s beautiful.

all my insecurities at the
forefront of my
mind.

will she.
won’t she.

a million reasons not to, but i
just
don’t
care.

no calm.
no comfort.
no rationality.
no rest.

she won’t let me in and she
won’t let me be.


written for movaten.

7.01.2013

cyclical.

awakened to the
stench of
yesterday's alcohol. entirely numb to what
should be today's
regret.

stumbling out of
bed into a
waste bin full of
condoms and
candy wrappers without an ounce of
shame.

incapable of
recollecting evenings previous. so, so
many drinks
ago.

throwing on a dress
grabbing the bottle and
out the door and onto round
whatever this is.

6.30.2013

this is me healing.

behind closed doors, i am still
broken and afraid and
waiting for my
next heartache, but i will
emerge, eyes wide, searching for
beauty, and it's
all around! it is in
handsome strangers in a
photo booth, old
friendships rekindled.
in kind words and
the love of those who
stuck around and will be
faithful 'til the
very end.
it is in the children's
faces and their
laughter and the
inevitable discovery of
joy in those around if i can just be
brave enough to
open up and
let them back in.

6.19.2013

hanging.

i
overthink, i
analyze, i
am my own tormentor and i
replay and replay and
replay these
moments in my
mind like you're a
puzzle i can
solve with enough
distant contemplation, not
a risk
a gamble
a shot in the dark

but you entice me.

the sound of your voice
your laugh
you speak and i cannot not
smile the
rest of the
day away

you are the calm to
my chaos

the smile and sigh to my
every overreaction

you are my
balance and i
am hanging on every
word you
say

3.23.2013

involuntary.


i would
drown in an ocean of
guilt for one
moment with
you

you stand close to me and i cannot
move or
breathe or
speak until your
hand takes mine, until i am
tangled in your arms

you whisper, my body shakes
you speak and i
collapse

i probably could help myself, but i
just
don't
want to

12.07.2012

reckless.

i am
a long drive
a late night at work

a whisper in a confessional

i am her inevitable heartache, your
erection, and i
am drowning

11.30.2012

i close my eyes and breathe.

your scent
your arms
around me for the
first time in such a
long, long
time

your fingers tangled in mine

the silence
the magnetism
the moment

9.04.2012

33.

i hit the
snooze button too
many times this morning because you
weren't there to let the
sunlight in, and i

keep staring at this
half-empty beer in the
fride, wondering if i
should finish it for you or just
toss it out and

how long until i change my
facebook status to
"widowed" or
whatever it is i'm
supposed to be
now

there are small pieces of you everywhere, you know
and i

don't know how to do
any of this without
you by my
side

so i hug myself like i
think you would and i
close my eyes and
tell you goodbye and i try
to remember how to live
without you

6.11.2012

become like children.

he picnics under
grey skies, storm
looming overhead
giggling and running and ceaselessly
marveling at the
beauty all around him

he never misses an opportunity to
stop and smell the flowers or
ask someone new to be friends or
hug someone sad or
clean up a mess or
any of the other little things i am
far, far too busy to even
notice

he breathes with a
persistent internal melody
unencumbered by circumstance and
saturated with joy and
i want that