~When beliefs are challenged they either strengthen or fall apart. Where have my beliefs been strengthened and where have they dissipated to dust?
~What do I believe about my role in the lives of others?
~How has that affected what I want to be and will I still want to be what I think I want to be when I’ve seen it up close and personal?
drunk she spilled the beans
she’d kept so carefully for months
I neither asked for, nor wanted,
nor counted them as they fell from her lips
I care in many ways
and in some always will
but not like that
never again like that.
1) What are you afraid of?
I’m afraid of Carl dying. I’m afraid of choosing a career, going back to school,
then changing my mind. I’m afraid I’m really not capable of staying in one place
for more than five years.
2) Have you traced any of them back to their source? And if so, what is the source?
I love Carl so much that if I lost him, at this point, part of myself would die too.
I want stability but I’ve never had it before, which means I’m not actually sure I
want it.
3) What things that you want in life are your fears keeping you from?
Nothing. I’ve learned a lot about living beyond my fears in the past
five years.
4) What makes you jealous?
I don’t get jealous about Carl anymore, but I’m still very protective.
5) If you could break your anger into pieces, what would the pieces be?
I don’t harbor much anger either. Now, when I get angry, its mostly on behalf
of someone else. For the moment, all is well. : )
6) What triggers your anger?
Mean people saying and doing mean things.
7) What do you want to be and what is in your way?
I don’t know, but I”m working on it.
8) When you think about the past, what hurts the most?
Its just a dull ache now and I’m still sometimes sad for lost innocence,
regretful about poor decisions, but I don’t spend as much time thinking
about it as I used to and when I do think about it, its so much more
constructive.
9) What makes you happy?
Too many things to list here. I’m so much more present in my life
now. And, interestingly enough, I think I have the past to thank for that.
10) Who do you want to be in five years?
Me, which is great, because I don’t have much choice. ; )
1) What are your greatest fears?
~Not being in control of myself.
~Losing people I love.
~That I will always lie and never again be known
by anyone and therefore never really loved by anyone.
~That my skin will never again feel clean enough to be
worthy of tenderness.
~That I am as stupid as I feel for letting it happen.
2) Have you traced any of them back to their source? And if so, what is the source?
~Always being the smallest.
~Rape
~When Mike said, “I don’t know, since you came back from TN
you just don’t feel the same.”
3) What things that you want in life are your fears keeping you from?
~A true and honest love.
~A true and honest friendship with my closest friends.
~Children
~Self Respect
4) What makes you jealous?
~He left me for someone else once.
~The fact that because he’s intelligent, handsome and hilarious any number of
women would love to be with him and I have no idea why he chooses to stay with me.
5) If you could break your anger into pieces, what would the pieces be?
~Being left.
~Not being listened too.
~Being forced.
~Hating myself.
6) What triggers your anger?
~The thought of their relationship and how it unraveled the boy
I used to know.
~Reading her poetry that I disagree with, even though I know I have
no right to read and pick apart her words for truths that will always be
relative.
~Men who slap my ass, say derogatory things to me and/or touch me anywhere
without my permission.
~My own inability to control myself sometimes; like when I don’t want to read anymore
but click onto her website anyway or when I know that whiskey and sleeping pills is the
wrong way to feel better, but can’t resist when it hurts too much.
7) What do you want to be and what is in your way?
~I want to be loved. But I can’t even love myself or trust that I am loveable
or that love is even real.
~I want to let go of my anger, but I don’t even know where to start, there’s so
much bottled in so securely and for so many years.
8) When you think about the past, what hurts the most?
~Every excruciating minute of my rape is burned into my brain and it hurts
more than I can explain to have it come back as if its happening all over again
in my nightmares.
~The thought of him loving her.
9) What makes you happy?
~My Why?lee with all his hilarious antics.
~My horse, Tristan, the only creature capable of outrunning every
single one of my negative thoughts and feelings.
~Writing, even when it hurts, it always makes me feel light and more
prepared, more organized; somehow complete.
~Carl–he makes me laugh more than anyone ever has; he is my favorite
playmate. : )
10) Who do you want to be in five years?
I want to be honest. I want to be who I am and happy about it.
I want to be less jealous, less obsessed, less angry. I want to have
a real direction and feel secure.
in an old sports bra
and gray yoga pants
I am his Heaven-sent
and very flexible
sex goddess
in nothing but my apron
I whip up his latest fantasies
in lipstick and liner
all black
and boots
I am his Dark Angel
I am his centerfold,
his playgirl,
starring in every love-scene
for the past four years
I slipped right out of my insecurities
and let them fall to the floor at my feet
I refuse to wear
the shame I was left
when my clothes were taken
I have seen myself reflected in his eyes
and I am beautiful.
glutted
till even veins feel too full
overwhelmed by words
not wanted
somehow needed
swallowed whole
again and again
no matter the consequence
fattened up with excesses
of decadent thoughts and emotions
it won’t be long
before you’ll be too big to leave yourself.
My friend is drowning and my rolled up sleeves may not be enough; I’m going in.
It can be so complicated; but complicated is always just too many layers of simple.
I walk beside her through this relationship and remember walking beside another; I failed before, my own limitations–red flags waving, completely ignored . . . not this time.
this house looks the same inside
as the week after we moved in
and my thoughts repeat like an echo in the hills
while I stare at that bottle of gin
such a poetic liquor
as bitter as the men who shoot themselves in the face
after already writing or painting themselves to death
1) What are your greatest fears?
2) Have you traced any of them back to their source? And if so, what is the source?
3) What things that you want in life are your fears keeping you from?
4) What makes you jealous?
5) If you could break your anger into pieces, what would the pieces be?
6) What triggers your anger?
7) What do you want to be and what is in your way?
8) When you think about the past, what hurts the most?
9) What makes you happy?
10) Who do you want to be in five years?
Winter is about answering the questions
I ask in my sleep
Winter is about losing my mind
but finding my heart
Winter is about the dark way
he loves me when he gets home
in the middle of the night
Winter is about my horses thick coat
and the steam rising off his back
on cold mornings
Winter is about my words
the feet of my thoughts
moving forward
this is the hardest part
I watch her–
myself
stumbling into the darkness
and I know what awaits
but stand dumb watching
as she turns, smiles
he pushes her–
me
into the tree
and my eyes roll back
my body slack
clothes torn
the memory is merciless
but I refuse to close my eyes
I can see him
holding her down
feel the sick whispers against my ear
punching me until the struggling
stops
God, I don’t want to watch anymore
even as her lungs draw in another breath
the life is leaving my eyes
my heart is empty
freezing in place
but I won’t turn away
from myself
this time
I didn’t come to blame her
to hate me
to burn
I came tonight to ache
to accept.
I came tonight
to claim you, Past.
its the afternoon after
alcohol still dances through my veins
with blood that seems thick and dry
my vomit is probably still wet
on the corner of 8th and Main
and to match my torn dress
there is the smallest of cracks in my heart
he didn’t hurt me
but I hurt to watch him wonder
if he’s good enough
to watch him watching, wondering
if a few guns and a high n’ tight
are enough to turn my affections
I love this town
and know I am already forgiven
by the city sidewalks
this town loves me too
and holds me close
without hemming me in
Even if there wasn’t time to knit
and even if she’s still working on who
she is; not ready to realize
she is the same with or without
those thirty pounds
I’ll still be heading home today
with a smile in my soul
I got what I came for, Boise. : )
This year I;
got another dog.
moved in with Carl.
bought a red dress.
finally saw Phantom of the Opera.
started cooking again.
finished a few knitting/crochet projects for the first time ever.
took a few more steps towards becoming my mother.
met a house that feels like a home. In Oregon of all places!
got engaged to my high school sweetheart.
found the perfect wedding dress.
took my dad’s place as dean of horsecamp.
taught Carl to run barrels and poles and troubleshoot while riding. : )
met Emily in person.
had my first flu shot.
got the flu for the first time ever.
started working at a call center.
may have decided what I want to do with my life career-wise.
read several amazing books, most particularly The Shack.
cut my hair.
went sky-diving.
got bitten by a dog (not one of my own, either).
was told that my boots enchanted the night!
was hit on by a couple of swingers.
dunked my phone into water on three separate occasions.
took my horse swimming in a lake for the first time ever.
went rock climbing with Carl for the first time.
climbed pilot rock.
I reject the comfort of my loving dogs
I reject the comfort of the flames in the fireplace
I reject the comfort of the bookshelf and the coatrack
and the spacious kitchen where I make our meals
tonight I am alone in the middle
looking out
I have said no to everything
that satisfies my needs
breaking down Maslow’s hierarchy
in the name of poetry
This is not about the 8-5 job
that puts food on the table
or the sparkling diamond on my finger
singing love and faith and good things
This is about the screaming sickness
infecting my fingers
my desire to unleash something ugly
on the neighborhood
that just might kill tidy shrubs
and ruin picket fences
I am opening the gate
into winter
where my thoughts are burning their bras
in rusted barrels
and the past is woven in with the present
and the sky is the future
but I’m not always looking up
I’m on my horse bareback
no shoes
no helmet
no fences
this year I’m not treading memories
we are fast
and I’ve got a destination in mind.
catalyst
catapult me
into that other place
where you can’t sit on the the sofa
you’re staring up at
from the living room floor
I’d love to do this another way
but my eyes cling to their color
I simply am what I am
This is all I know
of release I tie emotions
to each letter
then cast the words out of my heart
hoping they’ll fly away together
but my words sometimes sink like stones
with what I feel
Sometimes even I sink like a stone
where did all my courage go?
Bright yellow thoughts
shine out from these diligent digits
ticking away at compliant keys
they say only what I tell them too
and suddenly I want them to say more
I remember the feeling of blood-
letting through these poems
allowing me everything
I am afraid to ask for
out loud.
