Live On

9:57 AM Posted In , , Edit This 0 Comments »
While this isn't what I had in mind for my anti-suicide poem, it's what happened when my pen hit the page.

I.
Last night, my mother called me a coward.
She said I’d let myself be victimized.
But she never knew the ghosts
That used to haunt me.

She doesn’t know all the times I’ve
Wanted to tell her about my
Invisible battles with the past.

How my television tears weren’t
A sign of my sympathy
But the bond of unity.

She doesn’t know how many times
I’ve turned and touched my ghosts
And told them to stop haunting me
And how I’ve made them listen
And undid my status as their victim.

II.
Last night, I dreamt I was my mother
Discovering her older brother - dead.
I don’t know what Bobby looked liked,
But he was wearing a red flannel shirt.
I never knew the ghosts that haunted her.

I haven’t known how she carried her
Brother’s memory and how
My behavior kept bringing it up.

How all the times she
Saw me faltering and wanted
To take that pain herself.

I don’t know how many times
She's had to reach out and touch him
And tell herself it wasn’t her fault
And tell herself she did her best
And tell herself that she can move on.

III.
My mother mentioned Bobby once
In a letter to me, last year.
There was a line where the ink smudged
And the paper crinkled over some.
I think she must have been crying a little.

I stopped at that line.
I wanted to reach back in time
And say Don’t Do It, Uncle Bobby
Wanted to undo all the wrongs
That led him to this final turn
Don’t Do it, Uncle Bobby
Because forty years in the future
Your sister still weeps for you.

I'm Not Running

1:18 PM Posted In , , , , , Edit This 0 Comments »
I was so happy to be at church even though seeing Seth hurt. I don't really know why it hurt, but it did. I just felt so empty on the inside. Physically hollow. It's weird though because I've still been my usual happy self even though the way this all went down sucked hardcore. I still feel like that poem. I guess I just wish we could talk or something. I don't know. Everything is so bizarre. He's like a living ghost or something.

You just have to let it go and live your life.

I feel like I'm on the edge of something, standing in-between two places trying to figure out which side I want to be on. Everyone keeps saying I'm wearing rose colored glasses, maybe I am. I don't really know why people would want me to take them off. I guess it's because optimism is a two edged blade. It'll either cut through all the crap or it'll stick you good and hard. You just have to be ready for that. I've got my armor on nice and tight.

But I think we need to assume the best in everyone, in everything. I don't know. I wish I could fix things but it's no longer my place. I wish relationships didn't end in explosions where both sides are left wondering what the hell happened, neither party talking to the other. I don't know. I just think silence is impossible.

But I'm in a really really good place right now. I'm so glad I went to church. I just felt so at home and at peace there. It hurt though, going home to my house. I just wanted to have an open conversation with my mom about how I felt but my dad made it impossible. He said me going to church was stupid.

It hurt so so so much.
I just wish people could understand that life goes beyond our own sorrows.
That's why I've kept going. It's not about him or me or us. It's a God thing.

But he went on and on about how it's stupid to intentionally go somewhere where you'd see a person you loved so much. I think it's stupid to quit something just because of awkward hurts. I mean really. Plus, if you can't even face the hurt then I doubt that you're really dealing with it.

Running away is just stupid. Cowardly.
I'm tired of being judged on what I do or don't do.
I'm tired of people arguing with my heart.

I'm so much stronger than anyone ever thought. And yes I cried and yes I'll probably do it again, but why do tears mean weakness. What's so wrong with professing the song your heart is singing? True strength is facing what you feel, not turning your back to it.

The end.

With Roses In My Hands

2:05 PM Posted In , , , Edit This 0 Comments »
I've wrapped myself into the blues of the sky so I'm spread across the horizon for all the world to see. Nestled in-between birdsong and heartwarm, I just wanted to come home and I did. I really did. I'm moving like jazz music and getting lost on paper-napkin thoughts.

I've been thinking about what these days could have been and comparing them to what they are. Life is strange like that. But it's all so beautiful that underneath whatever it is THIS is the glory still shines through.

I hope the sun is spotting its light on you and that you're finally tasting the sweet tangy flavor of oxygen. I'm breathing deep and living simple.

I started a new journal. On paper. The last one was too full of tears so that every time I opened rivers of problems that were no longer mine flooded out into my face and drowned me in depression.

I'm not worried about me or about anyone, really. I don't know. I just feel like everything is going to fall into place suddenly, beautifully, like the way you go to sleep with stars and grass and wake up with a blanket of snow.

Transformation.

Feel the Beat

10:42 AM Posted In , , , , , Edit This 0 Comments »
Somedays all you need is a steady stream of music soaring through the sky to send you skipping. Today is one of those days. It's 12:42 and I'm wondering where everyone is. The high speed scene is flying past again and I'm stuck on the ground watching it go by. Glorious.
And you know there are questions you'll never know the answer to until you have the courage to answer them with your heart. Honesty can be so refreshing, so brutal.

Anyways, I think Harold is dying again. I can't really tell anymore. He's always turning brown then white then brown againl. Maybe I should water him. I have watered him since January...but he's a cactus.
I've never put a picture on my blog before. Congrats Harold. You're a first. This picture was taken awhile ago. In the back are his brothers. Got myself a little cactus family. At least they keep all their thorns on the outside so you know what you're getting yourself into.
Ummm. I really enjoyed posting that picture. You can expect more where that came from.
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