Rituals of inclusion that mean less to me than to the includers;

"Welcome to the Family"

they're awaiting  wedding invitations
- and didn't He do that already?
I
am not the marrying type.

Children are Not Like Kittens. This month has taught me that, at least.

 
days  have begun to stretch
forming thinly over muddy mondays
as black night gives way to mangled mornings

it was i who broke it
stubbornly forsaking freedom
choosing instead
a perpetual prision of “someday”

instinct indicates that i am too far gone,
still following closely wherever he  has led

and it’s not so difficult to see why
we have been decaying for ( Read more... )

I want to read my words, black and white in print and know that
somewhere you are reading my words
and thinking along
with my thoughts
and i want to know
that there is something, at least Something
at which I can accomplish
and I want to be a Writer.
Oh, how very, very much.
But with every opportunity,
i tremble
and quiver
because ( Read more... )

curious
how long i held my breath
and waited for you to love me back
and
really
would it have been
So
Hard?

Here is how it has happened;
we didn't want to have that conversation ever, ever again.
We cried.
And everyone has heard it all befoore so explaining the stillness and how i know that
it's over
this
time
is impossible.

he has been everything for so long that i forget how to be anything
 

silly silence. calculated chaos.

Mother of my ChildHood,
I am very well aware (with each passing hour) that if you were still alive you would be throughly ashamed of this woman i am so swiftly becoming. Sometimes I wonder what would have become of our relationship if  i had known you as I grew older and more aware of the fault lines in the people surrounding me- if i would have ( Read more... )

weary and pulsing pain
from hours spent biking uphill

it keeps me awake, tonight.

this burn in my joints and this
pull
of my heart.

i spend these hours awake,
alone here
in bed
listening to you mumble
and considering
what
an
encompassing
presence
you are
even
when
you
are
  ( Read more... )

comfort is
the soft worn absolute stillness of your hand
tucked
quietly
into mine

and we,
the mismatched puzzle pieces who
only
Almost Fit

no matter that we squeeze and push and
hold

our

b r e a t h

as we attempt to complete each other (and maybe- we just don't)

words, i feel, are failng me lately.
i cannot write/think/speak anything coherently
especially these ( Read more... )

my mother had another breakdown last night.
called me at work
and
the
sky
fell

it's far from the first time she's pulled such antics and
it wont be the last
but the panic
in my chest
feels
brand new (every time)

driving home,
racing racing racing,
and what if it's the last time?

she was okay, really.
and
i was a big girl
and
handled it.

later,
( Read more... )