Wednesday, August 27, 2008


i don't know why i am afraid to go
i'm not sure why i'm afraid to be alone
why is it, this gathering i dread
to get together & mourn the dead?
why are emotions so uncomfortable?
why do they make us anxious, unstable?
is this what it is to be real
to fear, to dread, & just to feel?
motions so overwhelming
trials so exasperating
you'll never feel prepared
i'll always feel scared
to face these things head on
this life we dwell upon.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Hot and Stuffy

I wrote this one night when I felt the need to be creative....

It's hot and stuffy like a dog house. The cluttered shelves and bursting closet overwhelm any sense of peace. While calming Fine Frenzy plays there is not rest here. Bright red accents contend with the super blue walls, competing for brightest attention and making my eyes jump. The heat is unnecessary discomfort. If I could just pull myself away to crack open the window. Maybe switch off a few lights. There, that's 89% better. Cooler, fresher air breaks up the stuffiness. My eyes relax with the dimness and a lone cricket sings along with A Fine Frenzy. The closet and shelves still scream and crowd but are muffled by thoughts of sleep and other days to work on them. A sweet breeze brushes my cheek. I can chill now. I've accomplished my creative goal today regardless of the distracting environment. So goodnight clothes-covered floor. Sweet dreams busy desk. Be still dear, chaotic room, you can't keep me up now.

Sunday, August 10, 2008


This post is a little more personal. My grendma is dying and I had to say goodbye to her before I moved. It was the hardest goodbye I've faced in this life. I love my grendma and will miss her tremendously!

It's a different smell now. From steamed peas and carrots, board games, dress up clothes and paper dolls to illness, bandages, bodies in beds for days. It's a different smell but I almost love it more. It's a sympathetic more. Her faces is paler and her eyes more sunken. She's just a skeleton with skin on. When she sleeps her mouth drops open and if she didn't make an occassional snore, I would think she was dead. While this body of her's is slightly unfamiliar her soul within is unwaivering and I love her more. She's holding on but tries to hide it by saying thins like, "don't ever wish to be old." She's tougher than she let's on and she's always been that way. I think she's afraid of missing this life of her's; afraid she'll miss out on another great grandchild's birth or a huge family event. But she won't really miss out on those things. She'll always be there and I will always love her more. So go on Grendma, just let go. You won't be left behind. We'll never forget you and we'll always, always love you.