love this

this is all it was

closure

i still live in the meadow with the bed

underneath the fog and mist

with your belongings surrounding me

old books and childhood photos

in the home that you built with memories of your life

underneath the canopy of the trees

i explore the labyrinth you left me in

stumbling over marigolds and grapefruit

searching for dessert

sink

i thought you trusted yourself

at least for a while

your decisions

your ability to make choices

only trust that which is tangible

so wash your hands with magic soap

let the suds grow large and frothy

creating rivers from your wrists to your elbows

see how it feels and wash it away

letting the suds disappear down the drain

rest your wet hands on the sink

they will always look the same

but will be forever changed

friendship

i'm so lucky to be surrounded by wonderfully loyal and lovely people. today will be amazing! bikram, baking, bike ride, picnic and concert in the park.

summer song

little grains of salt

wonder

walking from the garage to my back gate, lighting flickers about my head. i should keep walking, but i don't. i just stand there in the desolate alley and wonder, do you see the same sky? do you feel a yearning towards the west, as i do towards the east? do you feel an attachment to the big bowls of soup or the blanket we used to share?

logic

while sleeping next to me, you awoke one day and noted the absence of experience across my face, while i lay curled up next to you. alone in the bathroom, staring at your own image in the mirror, you ran through thoughts of the past few months. these thoughts frightened you and you began to slowly magnify our differences. i woke to you pouring yourself cereal, and smiled a rather sleepy smile at you. you looked away, as if seeing my face reminded you of a memory you'd rather forget.

but now, you cannot see my face, which is how you wanted it. you cannot see me smile my sleepy smile, you cannot see me as i wait eagerly behind your glass door, you cannot see me drink my sugary coffee, or see me resting on the rug reading magazines. you are not allowed to see me or my face, just as i was not allowed to see you or your face when you decided to run away.

romance

this process, this is not new, this tug of war, this whirlwind of emotion. i always end up dating the two headed boy, pretending to be a man, unpredictable like chicago weather, but just as enticing and mysterious.

cute as a button

print request

will you please

melt my dear heart

with your gentle disposition

and buy me a box of chocolates

and maybe some flowers too

those things would be nice

but a letter would be better

in fact, letters are my favorite

especially the handwritten kind

written in your neat penmanship

unexpected

holding on tight, afraid of letting go

chasing caffeine and courage

in the shade, in the sun

with strong legs and a patchwork heart

waiting for the next best thing

and the swarm of butterflies

to come around the corner

like a whirlwind

running

my head's been in a cloud all day -- maybe it's the weather, maybe it's because it's monday, but i do not feel like myself. i have a headache, i never get headaches.

i want to turn off the phone, draw the curtains, slip under the covers, and sleep. the only sound i will hear is that of the air conditioner blowing it's musty cool air.

but i won't do that because i don't know how to slow down. before today, i had four free evenings this week. now, i'm booked through next week. a series of errands and work, social events and baking, jogging and movie dates, family time and bike rides.

i spread myself thin and wonder why i'm tired. i never sleep my eight hours, i just average my hours over the course of a few nights; four hours of sleep one night, eleven the next.

today i bought vitamins and fish oil at whole foods. they're supposed to energize me, so i won't feel sluggish, so i can get more done. tonight, i'll run my four and a half miles, eat dinner, and go to the movies. don't worry, i'll get my sleep in... eventually.

goodnight my sweet