oneword: maid

Clean and purge this body. Empty out the dust, the dirt, the defenses. Shine some light into the shadows, and scatter the parasitic doubts. This is the time for rebirth, regrowth, rejuvenation. This is the time for me to emerge as I was meant to be. Glowing and radiant with the knowledge that I am in control. I am ready.

oneword: trend

Like elastic bent into stupid shapes and colors, these things that fade in and out.

Beating to the tunes of our childhoods, adolescences, and adulthoods.

Vh1 devotes hours to poking fun. They're used as conversation pieces at parties, hidden deep inside the sea of red cups and Jungle Juice.

It's almost like we forget how much the trends define our lives--in all of its stages.

So salute the Silly Bandz, the Pogs, the Tamogotchi's, the Blackberry's, the I-pods, the Beanie Babies...not just because, for a brief moment, they've managed to bring us all together, but for the memories they've passed along.

oneword: balloon

I used to be scared of balloons. Okay, not balloons themselves--not their floatiness or their celebratory power...but the sound of them popping. And the fear that they would. I was also scared of fireworks, fire engines (especially when Santa Claus rode through my neighborhood on one around Christmas), and thunder. Any loud noise, really. No matter how expected. See that's the thing. Most of the time...we see this stuff coming. And I chose to cower.

Thank God for the maturation of my ear drums.

oneword: industry

in dust, we try to rise up. in hope, we try to get going. in fear, we lie back down.

in love, we do it over and over.

oneword: keychain

The quintessential symbol of my childhood. We used to clip them all onto our belt-loops and walk around with gaudy miniature beanbag animals and humorous quips like "Good girl gone bad." It wasn't so much about emotional attachment as showing off.

The fad replaced with the necessity of closing and locking up, whether that be ourselves or where we live. And suddenly, we realize, we've become that much more closed off. That much farther away from what used to be fun and creative. That much less...free.

oneword: myself

I could keep saying it to myself, waiting until you are sound asleep to murmur it into my pillow, and then rolling over in frustration because I know that you aren't ready for it. And that maybe we aren't ready for it to have gotten that heavy. And that maybe if I say it, you will run.

But maybe putting it out there in a place where you won't find it would help me release some of this pent up romantic energy.

I love you.

oneword: brother

what a loaded word for me.

in short, the ideal to which i can't live up.

on the other hand, i'm not sure i want to.

oneword: pour

It's our nighttime conversations that spill into my daytime dreams.

I've drunkenly poured out my heart to you more than a couple of times now. Those texts that I laughed off and voicemails that I pretended I didn't leave?

All, so true.

I fear that I may be falling out of like and into the beginnings of that l-word that has eluded me for the past three years.

Please don't knock me off the table.

oneword: latch

shutting out these insecuri-keys.

locking the door steadfastly behind me.

i turn and see your pale reflection, waiting to tackle me onto the couch and play with my hair.

breathe in. breathe out. in. out. in-out. inout.

done.

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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: heartbeat

ba-dum. ba-dum.

kiss-him. tell-him.

fall-for...

.....?

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: 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.