In shadows I blurry our edges...

In shadows I blurry our edges,

I merge the insides.

I burn all the pages

Inside of your eyes.

I top off my glass,

With a touch of your sweat.

I reckon this mixture’s,

As good as we get.

I hide you in canvas,

I hide you in song,

I hide you in poetry,

In writing’s not wrong.

The movement is catching,

The winds are contagious.

Through worm holes, we’re spinning,

The thunder won’t save us.

We bind ourselves tightly,

We fear being free.

We wait and we fester,

Suspended eternally.

Mar. 19/Apr. 25 2012

My Sin in Song

My sin in song,

I want it all.

Inside I hide all of the pieces,

That fell down to scatter the ground

The day that I broke you.

I surround them like a foaming bitch,

Defending her bloody pups.

Loyally feral, by your side.

Fighting off my sullen pride.

The cracks are mine,

The sin is sacred.

I’ll find the glue.

I’ll do the mending.

My sin in song,

I have it all.

Inside I find all of the pieces,

That fit together and need each other,

To make up our twisted picture.

I archive it like a needy bitch,

Saving all of her fuck ups,

Royally clinging, to her insides.

Choking back her futile cries.

The cracks are mine,

The sin is sacred.

I’ll find the glue.

I’ll do the mending.

I’ll fix it I’ll fix it, I’ll show you.

I’ll do it, I’ll do it, I’ll know you.

My sin is song,

I make it all.

Outside I hold all of the pieces.

That come together with perspective,

And harmonize with loving truces.

I am the monster, I am the bitch,

Dropping all of the pieces. 

Sinfully grabbing, onto low tides.

Stepping aside, shedding skin of lies.

The cracks are mine,

The sin is sacred.

I’ll find the glue.

I’ll do the mending.

The scars are me,

The skin is marked.

I’ll be the light.

I’ll be the dark.

2/22/12

I sit with your specter and converse...

I sit with your specter and converse,

As if he was beside me throughout my day.

I work on the dishes and go off about loyalty and freedom.

I rest in the living room on the chaise lounge with strawberries,

I express with faux feelings to faux fellows in faux words. 

“She breaks just like a little girl,” I tell him.

He listens silently.

No reply.

He absorbs all that I am.

He watches me scrub the toilet.  I laugh and tell him about duty.

He sees my melt downs, he sees my build ups.

He witnesses my crazy core yet still he stays with lended ear. 

He has no choice. 

My mind holds him tightly in focus.

The edges blur but I won’t avert my eyes. 

4/5/12

February 25, 2011: A Someday Song

I got this face, it gets me by.
I got a couple features I'm not ashamed to hide.

Some have said it's pretty nice.

But it's not pretty like sexy; it's pretty like me. 

I got this hair, and it's alright.

It don't bother me too bad, it suits me just fine.

Some have said the color's nice.

But it's not colorful sexy; it's colorful me.  

I got these eyes, they're kinda bright.

If they're beady and blue, they still let in the light.

Some have said I can make them smile.

But they don't smile sexy; they smile like me. 

I got these teeth, they're kinda white.

I got a few fillings, but they sure can still bite.

Some have said my grin is nice.

But I don't grin sexy; I grin like me.  

Got good hands for holding,

A heart full of song.

Good feet for walking,

Through and along.

All my pieces fit into the puzzle that makes me,

I'm not all together, but once the glue's set...

You can't break me.

March 21, 2011: My Last March

I'm willing to forgive absurdities,
If you can see past mine.
I lost your love years ago.
Friendship faded with time.

I feel I still reach out to grab you,
Your fingers slip from my grasp.
Some hope or a song to remember,
Somehow seem so much to ask.

If you reached for my hand, I would take it,
Weaving our fingers, following beside.
But the weeds and thorns consume you.
And you are far too hidden in time.

I mourn to not have followed, though, I'm glad when I look back.
Because there was not a present in the past.

Hand Me Down Love (Apples and Oranges)

I always took what I could with you; some things I know were wrong.

All the times I mourned for you, but you weren’t even gone.

Something lacking, never found.

I hid away most of my heart.

I wore a mask, you weren’t around to see me torn apart.

I got hand-me-down shirts, pants, and shoes.

And I got hand-me-down love from you.

I hid away all my tears; you didn’t ask, I never told.

Was it assumed all would be forgotten when I was old?

Black sheep, fifth wheel, odd one out,

Yours are apples and oranges are mine.

All emotions concealed.  Raised to back down. 

My only comfort inside of my mind.

I got hand-me-down shirts, pants, and shoes.

And I got hand-me-down love from you.

Sometimes I think I’d like to take it all back,

But I’m a product of all of my woes.

Always remember it could have been worse,

Sometimes that’s just how it goes. 

I got hand-me-down shirts, pants, and shoes.

And I got hand-me-down love from you.

Top 10 Things I Learned in My First Year and a Half as a Mother...

I haven’t blogged anything in too long.  It’s not like I haven’t been writing, I suppose I just haven’t been in the mood to blog.  I wrote some words on the inescapable pull of the Oatmeal Crème Pie.  I wrote a song while my Pap was in ICU in the hospital.  I’ve been here.  But I’ve been gone.

What I would like to discuss now is my daughter.  She turned 18 months old on Sunday.  18 fucking months old.  That’s a year and a half for those who are math challenged (me).  What have I learned in 18 months of mothering?  Oh, let’s make this more fun than sentimental waxing mama and I’ll give the touchy feely a proper blog.  Top 10 Things I Learned in my First Year and a Half as a Mother…GO! 

Top 10 Things I Learned in my First Year and a Half as a Mother…

10.    “Babies aren’t as fun as they look!”  - Boyd Lucas

9.        Breastfeeding a tongue-tied baby is more exhausting than the pushing stage of labor!

8.        Eventually bodily fluids are of little consequence; you learn to not care what is stuck to or smeared on you or what you are elbow deep in.

7.          In a pinch, a Carmex tube can successfully be used as a spoon at a Beatlemania concert.

6.        Nothing is leak proof, spill proof, or resistant to anything.  Everything they tell you is a lie.

5.        Your guess is as good as “theirs”.  Who the hell are “they” anyway?

4.        After kids learn to walk, pictures start turning out a lot worse and are more of a chore and test of patience . 

3. Once talking starts you find out what your favorite “catch phrases” are and training yourself to remove swear words from your vocabulary is harder than you think.

2. Distraction is your best friend if you ever want to accomplish anything ever again in your life once toddlerhood hits.

1.   It gets better and worse every day.  ;D

All in fun, but serious just the same,

Missie Sue