Monday, November 17, 2014

over thinking

sometimes I just want to turn them off,
to flip a switch and make the thoughts stop
circling like hawks over prey
going and going and going until they win or -
in my case -
I just give up.
you see, I've got this problem with my thoughts
not wanting to stop running around,
driving me slowly insane
because the littlest thing becomes
so much more and I can't
get it out of my head.
so I write,
put the jumbled thoughts down
on white paper that makes everything seem
more real, less in my imagination
and it makes it worse at the same time
as it makes everything better.

Sunday, November 16, 2014


You ever get that feeling where all you want to do is forget, but you can't? The people that you hate keep showing up in your life over and over and over again without any warning and the memories come flooding back in a stream of consciousness that makes you want to scream. For me, its all of the things that happened at my old college that make me want to break down, to give up, to just take that last step over the edge and be done. And people keep showing up in my life again and again, just when I'm about to get over it all. Maybe not someone involved directly, but someone who was there or involved in my life. I just want them all to be gone. I don't want Facebook notifications from them, I don't want to get a text, I don't want to see pictures on instagram. Because they get to keep living their lives without a single bad memory, without having a fear sitting in the back of their stomach that makes it hard for them to eat food or interact with people. I can't be touched anymore because of what happened there and I'm stuck trying to repair my life and start over when they get to keep living and laughing and being completely okay with life. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just stood up and talked about it in front of everyone, if maybe it would get better and maybe I'd be able to truly live again.

Sunday, November 9, 2014


So, its been awhile (as it usually is between my posts) and I have a bit of venting that I need to do.  This isn't going to be a poetry post today, this is going to be a post where I just let everything out because maybe it will help this feeling in my stomach like I've got nothing.

I've never been so happy in my entire life, but I've also never been so depressed or anxious about everything either. I don't know how this is even a thing, but I need to figure it out soon or I might just explode and all of my secrets and lies are going to spill out over everything.  I got involved with the Quidditch team at my college and I never thought I'd find a sport (or a team for that matter) that would feel so right, feel like a second family, feel so comforting and okay.  It is so freaking wonderful and sometimes I'm terrified that its all going to end suddenly and I won't have anything anymore to keep me going as the rest of my life is spiraling out of control.  And while my team is wonderful and I love the sport, it isn't perfect.  There are days where I feel so ignored and lost, like nobody really cares if I'm there or not and I try to tell myself its just my brain being stupid, but that doesn't really help much.  I work my butt off for this team, I refuse to miss practice and I practice hard even when I feel like puking or passing out - god damn it I went to practice the afternoon after I had spent the previous night in the ER for 3 hours.  I'm dedicated and I give my all, but its like nobody ever notices.  So I keep pushing and I keep working hard in the hopes that someday, someone will look at me and say I did a good job and they will acknowledge my hard work and effort in front of the entire team.  My whole life I've been a disappointment and now I work so hard to not be, but I feel like one anyway.  And its starting to make it hard to go to class, to pay attention, to do my homework, to actually try.  I can feel the depression sitting in the back of my mind like a monster I can't scare away and my anxiety is getting to the point where I can't eat anymore because I feel sick all of the time.  Its like something is tugging at the back of my throat, blocking it from accepting any food and when I can get food down it feels like it is going to come back up as soon as it reaches my stomach.  I'm just trying to figure everything out right now, there is so much going on in my life with my family and with my roommate that I just feel like exploding.  I really hope that nothing more gets added to my load right now because then I'm afraid that I'll take it all out on my team and alienate myself from them and shut down like I always do.  Then I won't have anything because I don't think I'll ever be able to open up to them fully and explain things so that they don't hate me.  I'd feel like I was making excuses for myself.  Its not their fault I'm messed up inside, I should be able to hide it and keep it out of other aspects of my life.

Ugh, life can get so hard sometimes, but I always keep fighting. Hopefully someday things will lighten up and I'll get better.

Sunday, September 28, 2014

To Be An Adult

it is 4:06 am and I can't sleep.
contrary to popular belief
I am not in love or lonely -
I don't need to be constrained into
a category where lack of sleep means
that I am pining after some guy
because, apparently, that is the only thing
that could keep a girl like me awake.

why don't you men get your
heads out of your asses -
I'm awake because I'm afraid.
afraid of him,
the one who stole the night from me
when he molested me at that party
and everyone just laughed
as I left with tears welling in my eyes.

I heard him gloating,
saying he finally cracked "the prude"
and I haven't spoken a word of truth since
- or slept a whole night through.

this smile is how I hide
the immense pain that won't fade -
the pain keeping me up until 4:14 am,
not because I am pining,
but because the comfort of the night
was stolen from me -

the same night I turned 18.
I wrote this one a few weeks ago when I was seriously up all night because I was having horrible flashbacks to the night of my 18th birthday (also the night after my first day of college classes) - the night that I was sexually molested.  I don't really talk about it much and I'm trying to move on, it's been over a year and I've since transferred to a different university and stopped all contact with the guy who attacked me.  The worst part of all of it was that it was one of my swim teammates and another guy filmed him, laughing the entire time while I tried not to cry and then they made a joke about it with the rest of the team which led to me being molested by a different team member later that week.  I don't know why I never reported the three guys involved (the two who molested me and the one who filmed the first time), but I never did.  I just quit the swim team and transferred schools so fast that I don't really think anyone knew what happened.  I'm so much happier at my new university, but there are a lot of things that I need to work through.  I still have nights where I can't sleep and I don't know what to do with myself, sometimes I wonder if I should tell someone and get help - but a part of me is afraid they would make me get the authorities involved with the guys.  I want them to serve their time, don't get me wrong, but I also know that nothing would happen.  There were witnesses who later told me I had exaggerated things and that I had been "asking for it" - just as they always say - I know that it would just be a lot of pain for me and they would see nothing.  I don't want to go through that pain again just because someone out there thinks justice should be served (mainly my best friend who knows some details, but not all, and kept trying to get me to report them last year).  I'm living my life and trying my best to forget, letting it out little by little with my poetry and maybe opening up to a few people here.  I know people have noticed that I have issues with things regarding sex and that I get really quiet when I'm alone with guys (at least, I think they might have).

In other news, that isn't so dark and depressing, I'm in the process of becoming an RA at the university I'm currently attending which I'm super excited about.  I'm also at 100 posts (this is my 100th!!) who knew I could keep a blog up for this long? I sure didn't.  I know I've kinda sucked at being regular and I keep promising to fix it, but let's be honest here and admit that life happens and I'm just proud that I don't delete this blog or stop posting all together.  At least I give a poem here or there, even if it is after a few months.  I've been having a bit of writer's block though recently so I've been lacking on the poetry and I'm not turning out nearly as many poems as I want to.  Hopefully that will change soon.  This is also a regular blog too, so hopefully I will be able to pop on and update on my life and the goings on in Utah (which is where I am right now).  (I am not a Mormon - just in case you where wondering).

Life is beautiful. Even with the bad things.

Have a great day, week, month, year!

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

I lost her, I can't lose him too

April 8th is both a happy and a sad day for my family.  It is happy because that is the day my parents got married all of those years ago and their relationship has always been one that, though imperfect, has modeled kindness and love in my life.  But it is also a sad day, April 8th of 2011 is the day that my Auntie Cara died after a 5 year battle with brain cancer.  We were really close and sometimes I wonder how in the world I manage to keep living now that she is gone, but a part of me pushes forward in life because I want to live for her and I want to keep her light shining in this dark world.  When she died my Uncle David, her and my mother's older brother, started to get more involved in my life and we began to get a bit closer.  Until she got sick he had always been a bit distant from us, him and my mother had that oldest - youngest sibling thing going on and didn't really get along well, and he spent more time with his wife's family than his own.  And then my aunt, his other younger sister, got sick and he started to be there for us more.  He started to talk to me on Facebook and text me and when I went to college this last fall he would periodically check in on me.  My aunt's death changed all of us, but I think it changed him the most.  He started to really be an uncle to my sisters and I, not just our mother's older brother and their sibling relationship even began to mend.

This morning he went in for surgery on one of his lungs because they found a small cyst on the lung when doing a chest x-ray.  It was only supposed to be a 4 hour surgery.

12 hours later and he was in ICU, still is, and they found the cyst to be a lot larger than they had thought it was and it was inflamed across both the lung and his heart.  When my mother told me the news after I ended work today my first thought was: I can't lose him too.  My family is strong, my uncle is strong, and I have faith that he is going to pull through and be strong, but the possibility of complications that could kill him is very real and undeniable.  I don't know if I could handle losing both my uncle and my aunt in the span of 3 years and I know for a fact my mother wouldn't be able to handle it either.  She's already lost her older sister, she can't lose her older brother too.  It would tear her and my grandparents (who are both still alive, my grandfather against all odds) apart to lose my uncle.  No parents should have to endure losing a child, let alone two.  No person should have to endure losing a sibling, let alone two, when life is still new and there are 40 - 60 years left of good stories.  No child should have to endure losing their aunt or uncle, let alone two, when they are still young and have a life to live.  I love my uncle, I loved my aunt, and I can't bear the idea of losing my uncle like I lost my aunt.  I have faith that he is going to be okay because he needs to be okay, this family will fall apart without him.  I love him dearly.

when we lost her it was slowly,
then suddenly, 
and I didn't know how to react.
one day I was hugging her and laughing
with a whole life ahead of the both of us,
the next I was at her funeral
sobbing into my uncle's shoulder-
she taught me that life was short
and she changed lives and I don't know how,
but she changed her family too
and I hope she can see that 
because her brother is now truly
my uncle and an older brother
and I can't lose him too.
a breath of air escaped my lungs
moments before they cut his open,
discovering a monster there larger
than the small spec on a machine that was
supposed to show his insides 
clear enough to paint a picture,
but they didn't see it clear enough -
there was mud covering the lens
and now we sit in silence as we wait to hear.
we can't lose him,
we can't survive without his smile
lighting up small rooms,
taking the place momentarily for his sister
who waits, invisible, 
for us to see her again.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Long time no see.

So it's been around a year or more (I think) since I last posted anything on this blog.  I promise that I am alive, not happy about it, but alive nonetheless.

Things have been super crazy for the last several months: I'm currently 3 weeks away from finishing my first year at college/university and my life has had more ups and downs that I ever thought possible.  Since August I've been through a lot and actually haven't written very much, something that had been slowly killing me inside.  I may have sworn off writing for awhile, but it was causing me more pain than good because there were so many words bouncing around in my head and so many emotions that I just needed to get them out on paper.  Most of the poems I've written have been, well, awful so I'm not going to post them.  I have written a few good ones and I promise that I will get them up soon.  I've missed this blog and posting my writing online, it used to be such a big part of me and I guess I kind of lost myself for a bit this last year.

I promise to write more and to post my poetry on this blog.  I'm also thinking of actually blogging a bit on here because sometimes I just really feel like I need to get my thoughts out and pretend that maybe someone is reading them and gives a crap.  Because my life has been crap these last few months and I've been completely alone in everything.  I guess that's what I get for going to school about a days drive from my best friend and I'm transferring to a school that is about 3 days drive from home, I start there in August.  A part of me is running away, but I'm also starting over because there is nothing for me here anymore - too many bad memories.  Maybe, in time, I'll open up about what's happened to me at this school and why I'm leaving, but for now I will only say that sometimes I wonder if what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, or if it just makes you wish it had.

To (hopefully) a better future and more consistent posts. *raises glass*

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

stuck on repeat

they expect her to be beautiful
they expect her to be perfect
they expect her to be happy
they expect her to fine.

but she isn’t.

she screams and they can’t hear her
because they are blinded by the fake smiles that she
plasters on every morning when she wakes
from the nightmares that cripple her, the nightmares that
are her life.

she sees every bad thing;
every mistake and every bad decision,
every situation and every bad thing that she has ever seen,
in every dream.

some nights she dreams of the blood, blood
flowing from her wrists without stopping and the darkness
that held her in its grasp until her father’s hands found hers
and pulled her back,
gasping with the pain and feeling the tears from her mother’s eyes
falling on her cheeks.

and other nights she dreams of him falling, falling
down to the ground in front of her
because he had sat in his walker and they had been joking
and he told her to push him, but the brakes were on and she didn’t
know and she couldn’t do anything as he fell back
with eyes wide to the ground and didn’t move,
wouldn’t respond to her and when the EMTs finally got there
and lifted him from the ground she could see the pool of blood
staining the sidewalk where his head had been.

once in awhile she gets nights that are empty, empty
and dark and she is nothing because in those nights
she doesn’t exist anymore and the mornings after
are the most terrifying because she has to wake up
into a world where she does exist.

yet, sometimes it happens during class
when she will zone out and all of the sudden everything he has
ever yelled at her, every single time he has thrown her against a wall
and every strong grip or thrown book or bloody nose
starts to repeat in her head.

over and over and over

they are the nightmares that are her life,
nightmares that are her past.

nightmares that don’t ever stop.

stuck on repeat.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

darling, give me your heart

darling, come here and let me write you into the story
that is my life,
let me write you into the painful bits and the laughter, give me
your love so that i can spill out my heart
and love you back so much that i can’t sleep anymore, give me
all of your dreams so that i can whisper in your ear all of
mine and tell you that yours will all come true, give me
the chances that you missed and the ones you took
so that i can add myself to the list of chances taken
and so i can wake you up, late at night, so we can go
take some chances you thought you missed.

baby, let me give you my heart and let me take yours,
trust me with everything you have ever desired
and let me stay up all night by your side so that we can
wake up in the morning and think about how much
we love each other and how glad we are that we are
so very alive
and so very much in love with
each other.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

and i love you, but you don't know

i wonder if you would be mad if i shot you with
cupid's arrow because i just love you so fucking much and i know that 
you would never ever in a million years love me that much
back and you would never ever hold my hand or kiss my lips, you would
never ever look me in the eyes and bring me close with your arms
wrapped around my waist to show me that you care when i want to cry
because you will never know what i'm like when i'm sad and you will never
be close enough to me to care about me and to pick up on the signs.
we spend our time together laughing and making jokes, we talk
about practice and the team and spanish class,
but we never talk about the things i want to talk about, we never
speak about the fact that i fucking love you because you don't know
that i am laying on the floor with my heart cut wide open,
waiting for you to pour your love right back into it and fill in the empty spaces
i have reserved just for you.
so i wonder if you can see that i am waiting for you
or, maybe, you can see and you don't want to love me back or don't know how.
baby, if you don't know how then i would be more than happy to teach you
and if you don't love me back that is okay too because i am used to loving
too much and not being loved back, i am used to people not caring about me
in the ways that i wish they would, and so i would not be mad at you for not
loving me back - i would just have to teach myself how to not love you either
and if you just can't see that i love you then tell me how i can tell you without
scaring you away from this girl who is waiting for you to fill her heart and kiss her
scars (and lips and face and neck and everywhere else) and draw her close with
your strong arms to show her that you care.
but i'm also afraid that if you find out that i love you that maybe you wil hate me for it
because who can love me?
i have yet to meet someone who can.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

they were lies what she said

"they are just words" she said,
"they mean nothing" she said
she lied.
because there is no such thing as just words my dear
these are words and i am speaking them, writing them
onto paper and they have meaning and they are not
just anything, they are not
i can take these words and i can make things
that are ugly seem beautiful and i can make things that seem
boring a little bit more exciting, i can
use these "meaningless" words to make you feel
worthless just as easily as i can use them to make you feel
wonderfully meaningful.
so my dear, my dear little young one, don't listen
to her when she says that words are nothing
because they are something and they are not meaningless,
without them there would be nothing, they make things
and break things, they are
the very core of our beings - writer or not - because
we would all be nothing without these words, the words
that lift us up and pull us down.
and i ask you this;
if words really do mean nothing than how can i say
"I love you"
and actually mean

baby, i've burned myself away

baby i've got myself a new addiction and you would kill me if you knew
that i quit cutting through your carefully sewn stitches because it was too easy
to get new ones and too easy for you to notice that i was breaking again
because i have a bit of an obsession with the idea of shattering into 
a million pieces and your careful attempts at sewing me together
made me want to scream, made me want to cut through the strands
of your love that was holding me together and so now, now i've got myself
a new addiction baby
and this time there is no way to fix me.
this time you can't sew me back together because i'm becoming too hard
for your needle and your thread can't get through my skin because it is burning,
burning away your attempts at fixing me baby
with a little bic lighter and little yellow flame i've got you out of the way
and now you can't fix me because i'm too charred and if you touch me
with your needle i will just break because i am so burned out, i have
burned myself away into a pile of ash and dust
that you can't sew back together
and you will never know this because i will never tell you because i secretly
want you to make me a pile of nothing, then i would have an excuse
to die.
and baby, it would be all your fault.

its too soon for you

they say that age doesn't matter in death and they were right
because you are only two years old and yet death is sneaking up on you,
slipping into your room late at night when the monsters plague your dreams
and make you wake up suddenly, fear making your little two year old limbs
tremble as you cry out for your mother and your father;
"mommy, daddy!"
but those monsters are not the ones you should be fearing,
the one you should fear is hiding in your blood and your bones
and you can't see it as it rips you apart from the inside out,
making your parents want to cry out to God and plead for Him to save
their little baby girl with only two years of experience who is so close
to slipping away because of the cancer that plagues you and eats at your
two year old body, two years of no experience yet
so close to being taken away.
and i pray that someone can come and take away all of the monsters,
hiding in your dreams and hiding in your little body that is already
so very frail and fragile
because, you, more than anyone in this world
deserve to grow big and strong and fight those monsters and live a life
with many more cakes because two is not enough to know
which one is your favorite.

it was too early for them. (dedicated to the children in the Connecticut shooting 12/14/2012 RIP)

his big brother came home from college last night
and promised him that they would play soccer together
when he got home from school that day,
so when he hugged him goodbye and told him
"I love you",
he had something to look forward to.
he hid underneath the table when the big scary man
with his scary gun turned towards him and the sound
was so very loud and so very scary and he just wanted
his big brother to come and save him, to come and get him
so they could play soccer together when he got home from school.
he never got to go home, he never got to play soccer
with his big brother who was at home waiting for him.
she told her mother that she wanted to be a nurse someday
as they sat down for breakfast that morning,
she said it was because she wanted to help people
like her grammy did and it made her mother smile.
she didn't even have time to react,
the gun was pointed at her before she could even scream
and when the shot rung out through the room
she could only hear the others around her as she fell to the ground.
she would never be a nurse someday, she never would get to
save people like her grammy did.
her mommy promised her that they would go out for dinner that night
because it was her birthday and she was going to be
six years old, a big girl, and she was so excited 
for cake and ice cream and presents when she got home.
her eyes were closed and she pressed herself against the wall
as he fired away at random,
hoping that if she couldn't see him then he wouldn't be able to see her
because she was scared and everyone was screaming.
she never got to eat that cake, never got to eat the ice cream
because she never got to finish her birthday.
he was excited because he was going to play with his
new baby sister when he got home,
his mommy promised when she dropped him off at
school in the morning and he was so excited he even bragged
to all of his friends and his teacher that day.
when the man started towards him and the chaos around him
made him turn to run,
he didn't know that behind him the gun was being raised
and the trigger was being pressed and the shot was being fired.
he never got to play with his little sister, never would be her big brother
and would never be able to teach her everything he knew.
at breakfast she had gotten to eat a chocolate candy,
the 14th one of the month,
as she counted the days until Christmas morning
with her family everyday because she was so very excited
to give her mom and dad the gifts she had picked out for them.
when the bullet hit her it caused a pain she could have never imagined
and she screamed out as she fell to the ground,
her teacher ran to her side and knelt down to try to stop the bleeding
but she couldn't get it to stop in time and she began to fade a little bit,
becoming oblivious to the sounds around her.
she never got to eat the candy for the 15th day, never got to see Christmas morning
or give her parents the gifts she had picked out just for them.
and that was only five of the twenty children who had their lives
ripped away from them too many years too early,
torn from the world and their families only days before Christmas
by a man whose rage became so uncontrollable that he couldn't
keep it in check and so he brought those guns to that elementary school
where he shot so many children and the teachers who just wanted to protect them
from this monster, killing so many people,
including his own mother.
what has this world become?
[author's note: the children described in this piece are generic, semi-fictional children who represent the ones killed today in the Connecticut shooting]

Saturday, October 6, 2012

beat-up-old guitar

her fingernails were chipped and her fingers were hardened
from hours of struming on her beat-up-old guitar
sitting on street corners with her case wide open
and empty.
her clothes rested on bones with skin stretched tight
and her shoulders were slumped
but her eyes were alive with the music she was making,
she couldn't express herself in any other way than
her homemade songs and beat-up-old guitar.

the old abandoned ferris wheel

[inspired by this video -  by John Green]
they were screaming out to be heard,
voices pushing against the old abandoned ferris wheel
screaming, but only sounding in the soft wind
that moved them from silence into sound, pressing them
against the old metal carriages that once held
their laughing children.
they were screaming for redemption, for revenge
on the old rotting wooden steps
and the man who left it all behind,
confined to a prison cell,
letting their children's joy rot away
with the old wooden platforms.
the only way they could make it run
was by screaming into the wind
and hoping that it would push them with
enough force to make the old abandoned
ferris wheel
move again.