oneword: discreet

i have never been very good at being subtle. never. sneaky maybe, but not so much on being subtle.

i am even worse at picking up on subtleties. if someone is attempting to send out subtle signals...or even obvious ones...i miss them. not because i just don't want to see them, or because i am not paying attention. its more of a self doubt issue. i don't trust myself.

i'd love to correct that one day, but where would one begin to repair that sort of damage?

Oneword: Circuit

I'm fascinated that my mind hasn't exploded from the amount of information that's thrown at me each day. It's like playing a never ending game of catch. I'm sweating. And quickly, and quite inadvertently I'm now thinking of what medication I'd prescribe myself if this were indeed a problem. They've conditioned me quite well. They've created a circuit within my brain. One thing leads to another. You must narrow everything down, but not completely. You must keep this and that in mind. The circuit is still foreign to me, but I'm at the stage where my eyes are wide open and I can almost salivate upon command.

I can't wait
till I'm in complete control.

oneword: blinds

not really vertical. not really horizontal. this is not quite so cut and dry. more than friends, but a little less than lovers.

i am peeking through the cracks of the blinds to see what's really there, but i'm too afraid to wrench them apart and open myself to the possibility.

Oneword: Blinds

I stumbled upon your scattered site to browse. I stumbled along to read, but today I had the intention to write. I was going to mold the word, that oneword of the day into something that I wanted to write about. I was going to shape that piece of hard, store-bought clay into something that was soft, warm, and malleable. Today's word though, blinds... reminds me of a past beautiful morning. I refuse to not write about you. The blinds created a shadow upon our bodies as the sun shone through. The warm sun. The happy smiles ...the smiles. It feels like yesterday. Yet it was two years ago. A memory that won't leave. Funny how those work. I'll never forget that beautiful morning where we made the shadows beautiful and you made them into art.

oneword: lantern

light the way down these dark, haunted cooridors. hand me my freedom in light. show me the way the way to be brave, and soothe all of my fears. pave for me the way to let go. hold me so tightly engulfed by your heat. shine me to salvation, and poof. you'll be gone.

oneword: transmit

this frequency that i am on is a direct result of what is being emitted from every pore on my body. i feel a bit like i am drowning in every aspect of my life right now. i am just barely treading water in all directions to stay afloat.

i need to change my frequency and put something a little more positive out into the world. but at this moment i have not a clue as to how.

oneword: transmit

ET-phone-home me into a new universe.

Please?

Transmit

This makes me think of STIs and I'm not proud of that fact.

Maybe my mind will transmit some non-sexual thoughts into the atmosphere sometime in the near future.

Somehow I doubt that though. I will continue to daydream about carnal desires until my Amazon.com shipment arrives, wherein I will explore poetry and the meaning of life.

Naked.

See, and you thought I had a breakthrough already.

oneword: arrived

At first, I wanted to say that she is starting to emerge, but that would be continuing to put it off--making more excuses for NOT being, NOT doing ME. So I will say that she really has arrived: the voice hiding within me; the spunky, imaginative, irresistible little girl; the sometimes joyful, sometimes pissed-off, but always emotionally engaged woman; the long-awaited, never fully forgotten version of me.

And the strangest part about it all is that I'm actually not terrified....

texture

under my fingertips I feel your rough edges
as much as I try to smooth them out, you won't let me
"they're what makes me me" you say
all the while the texture of my heart is being roughed up by your sandpaper words
I hope it never smooths out

oneword: stem

From one silly thought comes a foolish dream. And from that dream comes an idealistic desire. And from that desire comes my will to get up and fumble my way through each day, biding my time until all of the silliness, foolery, and idealism becomes my reality.

And from that reality will come the most breathtaking flower I have. ever. seen.

oneword: pedal

pluck these pretty piece of me
off one by one; need by need.

wear me down slow, work me in quick.
don't let any body know about it.

disappointments turn into doubts
and i think that now i've figured it out:

swear yourself to secrecy
but the bottom line is that
you might just be

... embarrassed to be seen with me.

oneword: bee

the only thing i can thing of is, "fuck bees."

oneword: fold

you've called my bluff. i resign this hand. relish this moment, as I will not resign another.

oneword: trasnparent

i see right through to you. you can mask things any which way you'd like, but it won't make a difference. you can even lie to yourself about it, but it won't make a difference. you are who you are.

oneword: spotlight

front and center with all eyes on you. your heart pounds and your stomach starts to churn. your hands no longer function properly, dropping things. you even start to panic a little. short of breath. a moment of silence, a deep breath...

ready.set.

:strum:

Spotlight

Stoplight in this spotlight. Another time to get into the limelight. Another chance to get over this stage fright and fight for a chance to stand out.

oneword: spotlight

i can see you clearly now.

... hadn't really been focused before. you were a side note annoyance. something to just deal with... from time to time.

not anymore.

my skin crawls now. painfully -- acutely aware of your presence.

behaviors put themselves on exhibit! just like symptoms on a medical chart. thrust forward. directly. in my face.

sorry. i know. psychology students think they know everything.

must i make case studies out of everyone who puts me

... on a pedestal?

oneword: spotlight

there is this intensity about me that scares a lot of people away. it's like a spotlight-heavy beam of concentration that i can aim toward all the different performances I make in my day-to-day. the problem is that i can only see or do so much at once.

i'm finding that i have missed a lot.

oneword: stripes

Yikes! Stripes! Fruit stripe gum!

oneword: stripes

there's a scar on my arm where my ex wife tried to kill me with a butcher knife. its 10 years old but still white on sun tanned flesh. it's strange to consider now, that i thought that was how marriages went. my mother stabbed my dad in the face with a fork. my cousin tried to kill her man with an iron. i thought it was par for the course.

i think it's high time i changed my stripes.

ghost

another word: habit

... it creeps back into my internal clock. to wake up. to sit here, patiently. waiting to ignite the keys beneath these... fingers rooted like trees. to remember that there is a beauty about me.

oh! well come home, starz.

oneword: stripes

painted on this paper tiger. in the all too familiar pattern. as if you couldn't read it all over my face in every word i say, every step i walk, in every look i give to you. it bleeds in streaks with every pump of my heart. i have finally stood up and earned my moment. i have earned my rank in this establishment.

now give me my damn stripes. i believe that i have more than earned at least that.

oneword: stripes

black. white. black. white. paint me up and down... separate my tomorrows from yesterdays. but i never meant it in the way we say "this is right and you are wrong" because sharp contrasts bleed grey down here... underground. each line of color, threaded tightly to the next... we are not just a random sequence of events.

signpost

and it goes on and on, this ragged phantom caravan. relationships blossom or implode like tiny novas, shaking us to our very cores. and nothing changes and yet it's all different.

i wonder who we will be next time...



ghost

oneword: overflowing

this feeling comes over me in waves.

crashing down upon me over and over again.

the build up of what remains, long after the wave has come and gone.

that is enough to keep me hoping.

and somedays...i fill up with that hope, all the way up to the tippy top.

and even rarer still, but when it happens...its brilliant, i bubble over.

oneword: overflowing

there is always this eminent sense of return about me. i thought i had lost it--that overflowing need to sit down and hammer out another episode from the black squares beneath my fingertips.

and suddenly, i realize, i am running.

running because still, after all this time, i have not dealt with it. with this. with that. with anything.

there are things about me that i can never tell a soul in words. but the keys? don't lie.

oneword: handle

there is a limit as to how much burden one person can shoulder.

everyday i question myself as to whether or not i have reached mine.

i almost always tell myself no, and pretend i am superwoman and that i can take it, whatever it is.

i do have days that i am not superwoman, and i do reach my threshold. what i can't seem to handle seems more to be accepting that i have one, and that i just can't handle something...at least not on my own.

oneword: handle

instincts pull me to type "i can't handle this."

but is that force really instinct... or habit?

i have been playing the self doubt card for too long. especially because i know that it has been a front from the beginning.

i can handle this. and whatever else you want to throw at me.

... i guess the cop out has been that i didn't really want to.

oneword: eternal

my lasting hope that this life holds something better for me than my current reality. that my heart isn't wrong this time. knowing deep down that the tiny shred i am holding onto, that keeps me believing is still there and i am still holding on.

oneword: eternal

forever and ever amen threatens to begin again and this time i have to pretend that i am more secure than previously mentioned and what happens if i let all of this in and it falls tragically by the wayside of "friends" and i give up on on this dream of blank space and hidden grace and this magical move to become who i am takes me farther away from where we could have been and now he + she only = me.

oneword: weird

oh please. like this word is supposed to make an impact anymore. watered down, overused and underappreciated. yeah. you heard me right. too many people call themselves weird now. that whole empowered anti-cool coolness type bullshit. get a new angle.

oneword: sugar

one of the ways in which our tastebuds break down how we taste things. nothing is ever as satisfying or described in such a positive light as sugar. never is anything coated in the bitter taste of a not quite ripe piece of fruit to make it easier to handle...but sugar, seems to make the world seem better and brighter.

it comes in so many forms, but one of my favorite ways...cotton candy. its fluffy, and it dissolves right on your tongue.

oneword: sugar

Hypnotizing. Tempting. Sweet. But under all that, is a substance lulling your defenses into a false sense of security.

oneword: acting

we are all acting in someway...for some reason. we hide behind masks and persona's for protection or our own agendas. what good does it really do at the end of the day to keep hiding? sometimes it just makes it worse. if you spend enough time acting...how will you ever stop and just be who you are? how does one stop after such a long time? so you continue on, knowing that those that care about you and really know you...can see right through it all.

oneword: acting

...is a way to make moments of life happen. It adds breath and truth to words on a page or ideas in a brain. It allows a person to explore him or herself AND someone or someTHING else, all at once. It is magic and organic and lovely. And we do it everyday, on purpose or not.

oneword: gallop

racing,hell for leather, speeding away from something that is on your heels. its so close to catching you and knocking you down and tear you to shreds so that nothing, but a shell of who you are remains. you are running so hard your chest is pounding and your lungs have reached their limit, but if you miss even one stride, you are caught...so you continue running, chasing freedom that will one day be yours. run, gallop, and don't lose faith for one day that sweet freedom will be yours.

oneword: incense

Streams of earthy scents twist into the air, weaving in and around my tense fist and furrowed brow. My adolescent insecurities tangle with the certainty of history, culture, and the ever-present spirit within. Breathing in, deeply, meditatively, I am a yogi-in-training.

oneword: oven

preheated and awaiting the golden crust. the warmth.there is most definitely something cooking...the ooey gooey goodness that comes from it. i think i want to be there for that. i want to be a part of it. i WANT that.

oneword: arrow

The physics of it all. The fact that you can pull back, shoot, and wind up somewhere totally different from where you intended.

I am guessing my aim has been more than a little bit off.

oneword: stall

i was making progress in leaps and bounds. then i hit a wall. i stopped moving. my life just stalled out into a world of nothingness. all of the things i loved, and cherished just kinda faded out of the picture. i've woken up in the same place, not moving, everyday for more than one year in a row. how does one un-stall their lives and kick it back into motion?

i jump out of planes and ride horses and am learning to ride a motorcycle to keep in touch with the fact that i am alive. i exist too much these days. i want to remember how to live again. really live.

oneword: trot

We started at a slow crawl, sometimes not moving at all. We'd drag ourselves a few feet and then collapse, in a pile of our own indecision. But then something happened. A spark. A realization. A something. And then we picked ourselves up, got on our feet, started speed walking, trotting, jogging... and now.... who knows how far and how fast we'll move.

oneword: trot

a faster gait than a walk, but not quite as graceful as the three beat canter. you must learn to sit a trot in order to learn to canter. the rough transition between the two is usually where beginning riders fall. its very scary to be in that transition. faith in yourself and your ability are your only friends. i am terrified, not of the canter, but of the added possibility that i will fall off in the transition.

life at times is scary like this, and you just hold on and pray that you can do it, and that you don't fall. amen.

oneword: pie

Yes, things are sometimes simple, or at least seemingly so. If everything could be broken down into a sweet, warm, flaky crust enveloping a steaming gooey glob of goodness--familiar, reeking of tradition, satisfying an ever-lasting craving--then all would be well with the world.

oneword: apron

There is this side of me that has white-picket-fence aspirations. I've been told that my soul is older than my physical shell...and the thought of the warm cookies, the kids, the dog, the Stepford lifestyle seems appealing sometimes.

But then I think of the chokehold of the apron. The expectations of keeping house, and the pressure to keep the family running smoothly. Look at what happened to my mother. The panic attacks. The arguing. The loss of self-awareness.

That good ol' homestyle American dream? Well, it's just that.

oneword: paperback

I wish he was as easy to read.

oneword: knot

I am knot lovely--a mess of threads and twines of busted beds and lying lines, of twists and turns from nervous wrists and carpet burns.

A knot inspired. A knot that's tired.

So knot complicated.

oneword: wanted

to walk into a room and have your pulse immediately speed up. you feel a pair of eyes on you. you can feel the direction in which they are pulling you. you attempt to act natural. you avoid that direction at first, its just too much to take on. you feel something in side you expand to the point of bursting. your chest tightens and breathing becomes strained a little. and so the dance begins. who will waiver first. building higher and higher with every second. you can feel it get closer. every sense is heightened. just when you think you might explode...from behind you...

hi.

hi.

oneword: wanted

wanted:

a reason not to do my homework. to stay up late and smoke cigarettes on my back porch. to cook fancy meals. to buy cute underwear. to write love songs. to upgrade to unlimited text messaging. to agonize over a mixed cd. to change my sheets more regularly. to avoid puddles out of fear of being splashed.

a reason to stop onewords like these.

oneword: anxiety

the whole of me tingles with her sweet everythings. she whispers them in my ears and they ring and sing in octaves my stone steel colored alto voice could never hope to reach. and i call myself a realist to hide the deprecation behind a carefully woven cape of confidence that is true but full of swiss cheese arguments and for you literal readers that means there are massive. gaping. holes.

oneword: anxiety

It seeps in the tiny, forgotten crevices of my consciousness. It slips into my fortified world and crashes through my confidence where alongside moments of majesty, I find myself shaking and small.

oneword: collar

pop it.

bubble gum burst, baby. green glitter flecks of trouble bubble in your eyes. the haze of new city lights clear. fear ignites, among other things burning inside me now. my mind is no longer free... to focus on me.

i envision marks of my lipstick dancing on your collar, neck, cheeks, lips... there has been a rip in my time space continuum.

please. tear slowly.

oneword: bleep

censored scripts leave boring lips afraid to feel all the way to each of their finger tips. we hide seek and leave each other weak and waiting hating every nail bitten hail storm smitten second of it. i see you over there boy.

... i've been waiting for you.

oneword: cigarette

this was my major vice. that and coffee. used to be necessary for me to do anything. if i was happy i wanted one. if i was sad and crying my eyes out. i wanted one. it held onto me. nothing had ever had such a tight grip on me before. but it was the one thing, day or night, that i could depend on. i knew it would be there to comfort me. nothing else in my life has been as steady or as reliable. its an awful habit, and now if i had one. it would just make me extremely high and nauseous. they are now longer necessary. i suppose every vice could be viewed like that though. if you can break the habit...they become no longer necessary in your daily survival.

i'm keeping the coffee though.

oneword: fate

it may be stupid, or possibly naive...but i believe in fate. i still believe in meant to be and love at first site. i still believe in true love. sigh

oneword: bars

first, i thought about jails. then, i thought about drinking.

i'd rather think about the music. the way it runs together and through me, pumping out notes that speak out and up and yell everything that i want to say but can't.

oneword: gym

i have a feeling i am going to spend even more time in the gym these days. i can keep my brain from going, and i can distract myself there. i can work out my feelings and frustrations and fears in the gym. i do my best hiding in there. building the strength of my body in hopes that the inside will match the outside. i always feel better after the gym. its like sitting down to have a good cry, but without the tears and i end up feeling better about myself, and not quite so pathetic.

oneword: angels

ultimately, the walking wounded that you have forgotten to appreciate until its way too late. its beyond the point of saving when you have realized this. the time is limited to try to make up for it, but there is never any way to truly make it up. they forgive...they always do, even though they know it will never be enough to make up for it or take away the hurt. a little more breaks off each time. just a shell of broken pieces like a jigsaw puzzle. who will be their angel? who will help them put the pieces back together?

oneword: angels

broken. naked. i miss your presence. pure in ideal - sinned in practice. wounded. aching.

your deaths are so hard...

because you actually dared to live.

oneword: dispute

round and round this circular conversation continues...its been ongoing for almost two and a half years. one year in, i knew this was not going to be a healthy battle. and yet, i still find myself fighting against what i know is healthy for me. why? is this some sort of self inflicted pain that I get some sort of enjoyment out of? is it some strange and twisted version of a sense of duty. whatever the cause, why can't i seem to let it go? will i ever be ready for that? i hope so. even if its not tomorrow or the next day...i hope its some day soon.

oneword: heartbeat

ba-dum. ba-dum.

kiss-him. tell-him.

fall-for...

.....?

oneword: vows

I am surrounded.  Everywhere I look, there they are. More people are taking them and entering into that thing we call marriage. And as more people do that, the questions start to stir. When will you find someone? When will you take the plunge?

While I can't answer that question, I can say this: I vow to do what is right for me.

That, I can promise.

That, I can do.

oneword: track

up.
left. right.
down.

if it were left up to me, i'd rush right down to his place and do all the things he promised. but more likely than not, this is just another case of crisscrossed tracks that take me for a ride and ultimately deposit me nowhere. i am keeping my smart self inside tonight.

oneword: fake

the way you look at me. hungry. under the breath comments. under the table texts. behind their back offers to share your bed. because sleeping next to someone is so much better than sleeping alone. because every other girl had already gone home. your attraction is not real. it's horribly boring. and that's why i say no. not because i am afraid... but because you are.

oneword: match

"Stop denying that you aren't just like him. You never come home enough to see the good in him. Just like sometimes I have trouble seeing the good in you."

Sometimes, my brother's philosophizing hits me like a ton of bricks. I am no match for these inevitable genetics that I can't see, let alone acknowledge.

oneword i wish i hadn't missed: glitter

shiny pieces of first grade fantasy. shaken and glued in attempts to make this thing. look pretty.

oneword: suffocate

hold me in. tight. deny me that one thing that i seem to have too much of right now. air. space. the freedom to do whatever. the fuck. i want. please. pull me back. cause i'm getting lost. i've been living in this confined space for so long now. i miss feeling like i can't breathe. that was home.

oneword: alarm

For some reason, this strikes me as a stupid word. It doesn't elicit any metaphor or symbol in my head worth writing about, and I fear that being too literal would be a vapid welcome-back-haze to the world of scattered.

All I can think about is the 19 year old kid at work today who walked right out of the store with stolen books in his arms, setting off the security alarm, and everyone just watched him do it. Even me. What is wrong with people?

oneword: glitter

Sparkles speckle her face, taking the place of freckles and acne. They scatter about, untamed and beautiful, shining bright the true being underneath the thick, weathered skin.

oneword: cabin

Sometimes I want to go hide up in a cabin on a hill. All by its lonesome, glorious in its possibilities and quiet. Sometimes I want to shut it all out, so I can look around within. But do I have the balls to truly look at what I find?

oneword: whirl

You blink once, twice, and a whole life passes by. This thing called time is elusive. It evades logic and planning. It exists in a space all its own, waiting for the rest of us to catch up, to figure out our sorry little existences. Time flies by while our worries whirl us into the status quo.

oneword: rumour

The whispers flutter about, wrapping themselves around me. They swirl and swivel, flip and flop, from air current to air current. Surrounding, circling the trunk of my core. My roots claw into the earth, trying desperately to ground me in some semblance of reality. My branches reach out, grasping at air, at truth. But the whispers, the questions, the hurts, the challenges push me and pull me at their will.

oneword: scout

One of my favorite characters of all time. A young girl, challenging all cultural norms--about being female, about being white, about living in the south, about life. She inspires me and reminds me a little of my younger self.

...of my true self.

That spunky, loud, rough-and-tumble girl. That girl who questions and feels deeply, for everyone and thing. The one whose imagination takes over and gets her adrenaline pumping, allowing make-believe to meet reality. The one who gets stuck in a ridiculous, giant ham. The one who trips, falls, and stumbles around until a faceless, nameless someone helps her up and out of danger. The one who embraces the phantom as family, whole-heartedly and without question.

Scout. I love her.

oneword: satellite

It would be nice to get clear signals on a regular basis. I mean, the interference, the delays, the calm before the storm is getting a bit overbearing. Clarity. That's what I'm after.

At least I see it now.

oneword: satellite

He always seems to be there, hovering on the outskirts, beaming in a message or two whenever he senses that my life has gone a little bit awry.

The problem? He is fleeting. I see him shine across the horizon for barely an instant, until he zooms off again until the next time.

And the next. and the next.

If his light wasn't so brilliant, if his smile wasn't so gleaming, I wouldn't care so much. The fact is, I am more comforted by his momentary visits than the thought of him not being there at all.

oneword: towel

suck me in, absorb me, quick. like a warm towel after a cold shower or a flame attaching to a burnt out wick.

ick. the problem there was that i really wanted to rhyme quick with dick, but feel as though i should stop focusing on male woo woo areas right now.

sigh.

oneword: saving

Every paycheck, I have been dutifully putting money away. I watch the sum grow, month by month. Waiting there for some future waiting in the wings. I wonder what it will be used for. Will it go toward a perpetuated inertia, a future, a plan that seems logical and safe? Or will I find a way to start dutifully saving small increments of my well-being, too?

Because without a safe sum of me put away somewhere, I'm not sure the money will be worth a damn thing.

oneword: meter

thump thump bump rump. slow it down, please. keep that hip hop heart beat in rhythm with the tick tock (you don't stop). but! the meter made me do it!

ok. that's a lie. it wasn't the meter. it was the way he looked at me.

my brain may have told romeo to fuck off, but my peach fish has a slight difference in opinion...

late oneword: offer

we hold these truths. to an upper 45 degree angle. presenting our offerings to the gods of letter keys and the goddesses of fountain pens. our heads bow down - not out of respect or even fear. but merely because we like to look at the doodles and paint blobs we've accumulated on the tops of our chucks.

oneword: offer

make me an offer I can't refuse. thats all i can think about, and all i seem to want to think about these days. i want desperately to be happy with what i have right now. actually, at the end of the day, i just want to be happy. i am acutely aware that there is something keeping me from that, but i can't quite put my finger on it, or i just won't let myself see it.

oneword: pose

freeze.

the dented dreams and desires of someone who usually only sees in photo-negative.

but, the good that is developing.

frame.

another word: race

last night may have been the starting line, but this morning marked the first sharp turn. convincing myself to get. the fuck. up.

we are racing time. knowing that we won't be able to do everything we want to.

the need to prioritize stops me dead. and it's funny... because that's the very thing i am afraid of.

letter by letter, word by word, tick by tock... i will not go down without a write.

oneword: balcony

She stands there under the oppressive cloak of night, high above the earth, the roots, the origin of growth. The moon, the inconstant moon, which used to be her beacon for beauty, truth, and love, high-tailed it out of there, out of her life. So fast, in fact, that she can't tell where it once was, shining brilliantly over her, illuminating the land, the journey stretched out before her. It used to show her the way, its mystical magic bringing her comfort and peace. But now it's gone. Gone. And all she has left is the memory of its power over her as she leans over the edge and waits.

oneword: balcony

oh, romeo... go fuck yourself.

i've got better things to do than stand up here drowning in an a love and life never realized with someone like you.

no more waiting up here - i'd rather jump off of this thing and soar with flight driven by my own imaginary, albeit, broken wings.

too long i've spent my life dreaming and writing of a tragical, magical love like the one you speak of. too long i've wasted my energy on men who i wished would be your doppelganger.

i don't want to wear these tired eyes, or speak these tired lines anymore... i want a new love story. one that doesn't end in death or pain or never again.

oneword: charge

this full speed ahead mentality has kept me from seeing all that's really looming on the horizon. my college graduation. finding my own place to live. working full time. saying goodbye to my best friends and making new ones. what could be big in one frustrating, confusing person.

it's all i can do to charge forward, to avoid stopping and thinking about all of the dizzying change that could either be really awesome or really horrible.

Roof

the roof, the roof, the roof is on fire.

My hair, the flaming roof of my brain, engulfs my thoughts with a red tinged subtlety that few understand.

My fellow gingers know, when you see a flaming roof...

You don't run away.

You dive inside to see what is bubbling just underneath the inferno.

We don't need no water let the mother fucker burn.

oneword: disconnect

the keyboard seems foreign to me. i feel like i might have lost my voice.

i think he took part of it.

oneword: provide

The granite is gray and cold to the touch. It is strange to be standing here, staring across at your name, my fingers tracing the etching of the lily and the cross. My knees cramp from the weight of my torso leaning over to brush off the grass and debris from the winds this weekend.

I am sorry that it has taken seven years to say this, to come back here.

To be honest, the guilt was too much. I should have been there, given you my hand to take and hold onto while the world spun out of control into what I hope was a warm and inviting light.

What kind of granddaughter was I to not provide for you in your last years? Visiting you became a weekend chore, and I let the lure of friends pull me from enjoying what little time I could with you.

My mom talks a lot about butterflies, how they land on her when she comes here, even in the dead of winter. I want desperately to see and feel that, to know that even though I wasn't there for you, a part of you is still there for me.

oneword: blackout

Strange how oneword can sum up my entire junior year of college. I should be poetic. I should be able to relate this word to some sort of haughty metaphor, and then swing back and implicitly tie it back to my life, all the while maintaining a distance in tone that will let me attack myself as if I were someone else.

The only memories I have left are, sadly, the early morning phone calls to someone who would understand. And the crying. There was a lot of that.

And still, there are times when I find it hard to drink and stop myself. I don't make as many stupid mistakes because I can't let myself go back to what I was.

But the truth is, I am terrified. Every time I hold a beer in my hand, or I take a shot, I am just scared.

One word: Grid

hardened corners, small squares filled with air. an endless maze of right angles that attempt to fill the void of space. a place for everything and everything in its place. but whose face in this space can place a smile on mine?

(this is my first attempt. be gentle :) )

oneword: grid

oh you splendidly sweet blocks of cold air and open space... waiting - begging me to fill you in with pencil-scribbled mistakes...

stage blocking that leaves clocks tick, tock- tocking... outlining time in smooth, cubicle lines... a marching band formation just waiting to be the climax of my geometrical masturbation...

marking spots with x's and dots... stacking up shapes like bricks layered in between superhero capes...

cold and empty, my graph paper pleasure box... pardon me... i've gotta go get my rocks off.

oneword: specific

How strange to move from those dance-floor grinds and daytime rewinds with friends to this specific moment when I look over at you and feel like I might actually have found everything I've wanted and fought for so long to find. I believe again.

oneword: believe

hand fried and deep picked i believe in that slow-mo d r i p,
d r i p,
d rrrrrrrrrrrr i p...

down the sides of ripe, red fruit and the inner thighs of tight leather boots.

wanna-be beatnik poetry pricks...

if i were a boy you'd be sucking on MY dick.

oneword: keypad

my fingers are like ghosts as they float over these keys. haunting what i used to love and who i used to be.

"too concerned with the worlds on the outside..." is he right? has the inside of me died? did i kill it just like he killed my love for him?

without water we do not grow. without practice we lose muscle memory. without activity we grow soft. lazy. boring.

oh these keys that used to bleed for me now only dance for facebook and online dating. i am embarrassed. i am ashamed. but i am not dead yet.

oneword: keypad

Looms before me; projects and inspirations await. It remains eternally patient until I get my ass in gear.

oneword: vulture

There is an ever present something hovering up above me, above us all. Hunched over, knobby, scaly, strange. Always searching for its "in," its opportunity to feed. It hangs there in limbo, looking for someone else's success, someone else's love, someone else's life. It is a cheater. It is hopelessness. It is the constant nagging that nothing is permanent, that if you don't take care and protect the life you're leading, it might be taken away from you forever.

oneword: sprout

Peeking up through the crust of winter, I see the promise of relief showing its pretty little face. And with it will come warmth, flip-flops, summer dresses, and a breath of fresh air. A much needed breath of fresh air.

oneword: middle

She stands in the middle of the room.  But it is not just any room.  It is a room, like so many other rooms, that has defined so many moments in her life.  

She stands there in the pit, the lowest point of the whole place, the point where a piece of the magic begins.  She turns to the back of the room, looking upwards over hundreds of battered, worn seats, seeing shifty figures and faces that have occupied them through the years.  She sees the tears and the laughter, the intense attention and the restless boredom, the family, the friends, the faces of people who made a regular moment wholly unique and irreplaceable, never to be found exactly as it was again.

Her eyes travel up past those seats to the doors which welcomed those faces in, to the booth which controls other pieces of the magic.  She lets her eyes travel across the high ceilings and up to the catwalk, caging in streams of light which illuminate and inform the magic, hanging from above the pieces that will bring people and moments to life.

Then, ever so slowly, she allows her body to turn, facing a gaping hole--dimly lit, empty.  The floor gouged, splintered, worn.  Remnants of tape and paint and blood, sweat, and tears sprinkle the surface which so many have occupied before her.  Remnants of successes and failures haunt the space before her.  

And she is not sure she belongs in this room, like she has in others from before.  The pieces of the past do not speak to her here, the pieces of this room are still foreign, strange.  She stands there looking, questioning, hoping, that before too long that strangeness will disappear.  She stands there hoping that the various pieces of the magic she knows so well will come together for her here.  

Because then, standing in the middle of things will feel less daunting.

oneword: change

Whipped through my world and knocked me on my ass. I was preoccupied at the time, and was taken aback. But the thing is...this change, this shift in my life...it's been a long time coming. And part of me knew it was on its way all along.

oneword: dance

This is the stuff that pulses its way through my veins. It flits and flurries, it leaps and crashes around my life. And the further away I get from a life centered around dance, the unhappier I get.

oneword: dance

first dance. last chance. quick ro-mance.

story of my life.

oneword: favorite

These are a few of my favorite things: winter night skies, the moon in any or all of its stages, the stars, the smell of the seasons, the breeze that envelops me, telling me that there is more in the world, the wisdom of ocean waves, laughter of all kinds and at all times, seeing love in someone's eyes, being silly and being serious, knowing that I am there for people just as they are for me, knowing that I am needed and relied upon, words, notes, movements, creative expression, the cosmic quiet occurring when it snows, the melting of a New England winter into spring, getting manicures with my girlfriends, dressing up and dressing down, going out on the town, being crazy and calm, wacky sarcastic interchanges, late night lucubrations and mad creations...

But my most favoritest thing of all...

Not knowing all of my favorite things until they take my breath right out of my lungs.

oneword: now

Now is the time for honesty, for coming clean, for moving forward. I cannot change what has happened. And I can no longer dwell in the past. I have to accept the decisions, the mistakes, and the hurts so that now will be haunted no longer--and a new now can step in, the real thing, the now I've been waiting for.  I must burn those bridges that keep me perpetually linked to a past wrought with drama and pain, filled with questions and unnecessary naysaying.  

Now has possibility and hope written all over it. But I have to grab it. I have to take this opportunity, own it.

Here and now. No excuses.

oneword: meant

what that meant was the end of an era. and even though i consciously never meant for it to happen, we will never be able to look at each other in the same way ever again. of all the things i've done that i am supposed to regret, i think this is the thing i am the most sorry for.