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: wash

Every once and a while I need to wash myself clean, taking all of the grime that no longer serves me so I can move forward with a fresh perspective.

Yesterday, I started with my apartment. I cleaned, I vacuumed, I did laundry, I lit a candle, and could finally breathe. I still have so much to do, but this is a start.

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: depth

Strip yourself of unneeded layers, fill your lungs with air, close your eyes, and dive into the depths of your imaginings. Swim around in them. Flip, swirl, and roll. Open your eyes down there, watch how everything seems to blur and mold into a beautiful alternate reality. When you come up for air, remember what it looked like. Remember what it felt like. One day it will surface and you will thrive.

oneword: chained

After so much excitement, so much relief, so much truth telling and exploration, this ball and chain is still here. It is still digging into my flesh, even more so, and I wish more than ever that it didn't exist, that it never existed in the first place.

If only my wish could make it real. If only dreams coming true were that easy.

Turns out it's hard work, and the pretty, pastel picture I painted for my life--the one that is making me gag at the thought--is even harder to escape. This is going to take more effort than simply making a decision. It is going to take action. Follow-through. Faith that all if it is for the right outcome, the real right outcome.

Until I lose myself in that faith and that action, all at the same time, no time, and all the time, I will be chained to the nagging, splenda-sweetened, good life. The one I've spent so long convincing myself I should live.

oneword: detour

this is no detour. this is paying your dues. writing this paper is all i have to do. it's all i need to keep my on this path. to get to that place where i can do what i love all the time. i will try to stop complaining. i should be grateful that this is the only thing in my way. it's just a fucking paper.

oneword: fireflies

sometimes the music makes the words better.

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: blocks

Built high and bold, in all sorts of shapes and designs, I create my world. When the foundation lacks the appropriate strength, or when my elbow inadvertently gets in the way--when the blocks tumble to the ground, I look at the new patterns emerging, I take a deep breath, and I begin again. This is not a loss. It is not a set-back. It is just a step in the process. Step by step, piece by piece, block by block, I am building the future I desire. The future I deserve.

she died yesterday

i've known her for ten years. i haven't seen her in a year or more. she died yesterday.

ah, malorie, you are gone too soon. rest in peace, sweet sweet girl.




ghost

oneword: cranky

normally, i am bitter, angry and upset at the world. right now, though, i am sitting in an okay place. even if it is only momentary. i am grateful to see some light in the darkness that i have existed in. nothing is fixed and none of my problems have vasnished, but i did something for me to take care of myself, and i am proud of myself for my accomplishment. i am going to ride that high out before i become cranky once again.

one word: runaway

if only i could escape. if i could run far enough, fast enough. maybe i could escape this life. i have found that you reach a point at which you become incredibly aware that you cannot go on, and cannot survive where you are. you have no choice. backed into a corner...you are left with a choice...fight or flight. i don't have enough left in me for this fight. i don't have much left in me at all these days. broken down and tired,i am afraid that all i am capable of these days is running. feeling my feet hit the pavement as i make my escape from this life, from this unfortunate situations. well, these unfortunate situations that have become my life. i was unaware that a human could feel this unfufilled, unhappy and alone. i find myself in this dark place. it is like living in a cave,except none of the benefits of truly being by oneself are present. and so i run.

oneword: roll

Rocking and rolling, ebbing and flowing. I am movement. I am active, not passive. I am doing, not planning. I am making things happen rather than promising that I someday will.

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.

Did I tell you about her eyes?

Did I tell you about her eyes?
Dipped deeply in cobalt blue
and left free of obvious lies.
Simply unique and simply true.

Did I tell you about her eyes?
Coyly shown when we first met,
more inspiring then all the skies.
Her place in my world was set.

Did I tell you about her eyes?
Empty of all cruel intent
Filled with thoughtful cries.
Her honest reflection is sent.

Did I tell you about her eyes?
And a sadness found deep in there?
The break in her soft disguise,
Part of that she hides with care.

Did I tell you about her eyes?
How I fell there and was lost?
How she took away my lies?
And my tears fell at last?

Tell me about her eyes,
Least I forget.

John Thomas rule(d) my (early) life.

(Originally written in 2004, tweaked today)

For some reason this morning I am preoccupied by my John Thomas, third leg, or to be clinical about it, penis.

I am preoccupied by the fact at over 30 I still have very little control over it. In many ways I am (or should that be he is) like an adolesent. Unless you have your own you may find this hard to understand. It is indeed an appendage flying it's own flag of independance, and no matter what steps are taken will 'salute' that flag as and when (and wherever) it feels is appropriate.

You are never really given any solid advice on how to deal with this, and the triggers are inconsistant to say the least. At school during sex Ed we were forced to watch videos on this subject. And the girls where all invited.

The advice was in fact terrible, and only served to increase our already well developed insecurity in to a life long affliction. I remember clearly being told that we should during our teenage years "wear tight jeans or trousers to reduce the visibility of an involuntary errection" and "to distract ourselves by doing something else such as whistling". This did of course lead to playgrounds full of 14 yr olds in tight trousers whistling the latest chart hits. (And lots of giggling girls who had seen the same advice)

What they producers of this astute video obviously had not thought about is the actual appearance of a straining salute through tight jeans. It's just as obvious as the whistling. In fact loose trousers at least had the benefit of allowing you to put your hands in your pocket to grab the offending organ and try to control it. Slightly more practical and pleasurable then your tight jeans.

It is really no wonder that the Victorians used to cover up table legs least they arouse the passion within young men. Anything can, and occassionally still does, trigger this wonderful act. In fact it is amazing what can set of the skyward glance - any glimpse of previous cover flesh, your best friends mum, that slightly naughty novel owned by your parents, the slap you received from the fiesty girl of the class, dinner ladies, odd shaped salt pots...and on it goes.

... or it doesn't. Unfortunately, while for 99% of the time you can't stop it, this is always balanced by the 1 time it refuses to co-operate. Normally when it should be raring to stand upright and proud, it can be counted on to be having a bad day. Remember that first fumble? I am not sure what the ladies will have been thinking but I guarentee all the lads where willing their penis to become the largest, grandest and firmest it had ever been. Probably to the point they become paranoid it wouldn't work and that caused the sweat - not the heat of the moment.

There would have been that tense moment as she (gently / timidly / forcefully / aggressively)laid her hands upon it - the make or break moment. Stand or sink. Salute or stone. Her cool hands make contact and... you can bet the resultant cheer (Success) would be heard a mile away. As would the aggonising scream as your penis decides not to play.

And will probably stay this way for the rest of our lives. Just wait until the penis becomes Viagra immune. It will happpen - trust me.

oneword: idiot

how incredibly stupid do i feel? this end all be all thing that i believed in, my whole outlook...how could i have been so wrong? everything i believed in was a complete waste.

and now the situation i have found myself in...i never thought that i would end up back here again.

i can seem to move. i am trapped here in this. i am trapped by me. i am the only one that can get me out of this, and i cannot seem to move.

i feel so stupid, and helpless. i know i am neither, and yet i feel powerless to remove myself from this situation. i cannot for the life of me figure out what is keeping me here...other than an extreme fear of upsetting her. that's all. it seems so dumb.

i can say this...my outlook has changed. i have changed. i will never be this foolish again.

oneword: inspired

watching what has been accomplished and the distance that has been covered in such a short amount of time. going from just talking about something to actually doing something about it...that right there is the stuff dreams are made of.

not being the person that is standing there trying to figure out how to take that giant leap of faith.

taking that first step, oh so fearlessly.

i've been paying attention. now its my turn. to jump. to leap. to fly.

Drops

Tear plops
The world stops
And my heart flops
When your face drops

Let's change these rain drops of sadness to joy drops of gladness.

As soon as everyone drops
Their excuses

oneword: drops

one by one as they hit the smooth surface, and you dare to step in. i let them hit my face, hoping that each one will pull me further and further from the daze that i have found myself living in. dwelling in. hoping with every splash that it will wash it all off of me. it has been there so long, that i am encrusted in it. everyday, i wake up a little more. i am finding myself closer and closer to being free from all of it. one drop at a time. i get closer.

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: storage

Not too long ago, I opened the torn-up duffle bag for the first time in ages.

I carefully pulled out old tights, ripped and frayed, unwrapped my last pair of point shoes, with a brown blood spot permanently stained into the pink satin. I unfolded leotards and leg warmers and sweaters. I leafed through an old book of notes, choreography, dance steps.

It all smelled musty, the years of stagnancy in my parents' basement emanating from every fiber. It all reeked of stillness, neglect.

I pulled that bag out of storage, not too long ago, and it's not going back. I might add a few new items to the mix, a few new skills, definitely a slew of new tricks.

I am stretching out stiff muscles. I am getting my blood flowing again, for real, for the first time in far too long. And even though my body might take a little while to rejuvenate, to become what it was and more, right now, my spirit-body is twirling and leaping for joy.

oneword: tofu

Just another thing I was told long ago, sold on the healthful, genuine goodness of this manmade food... So much of my existence lately is deciding whether or not to believe in the fairy-tales of my past--wanting so much for the utopia to be true, to believe that purity and perfection exist.

But maybe, just maybe, the utopia sold to me was the wrong one, if for no other reason than it was theirs, not mine.

I do not need over-processed, watered-down, let-me-protect-you-from-yourself nourishment any more. Expecting me to take you at your word--because you know how hard it can be and how bad it can get--doesn't nourish me; it is eating me from the inside out.

I'm just baffled it took me this long to discover the truth I should have known from the start.

(OH-eeee-oooo....KILLER TOFU)

oneword: pills

that pucker on her lips isn't there in hopes of a kiss. sour and slumped - no grind. and NO bump. she overfills her days so she can sleep through her nights and emotion overspills into her mind so she can justify her plight. she sits in her puddle of pity pool party excuses and i remember when i was the one spouting the stream of 'it's no use's.

oneword: options

i find that its never the options that stump me in life, its always the decision...and sticking with it. things are fluid, always moving and changing. i still sometimes question decisions that i made ten years ago, and where i would be if i had chosen differently. some of the decisions, made in the snap of a second, i am grateful that i made those decisions. one in particular was a little like jumping out of a plane. once it had been made and the words spoken, there was no going back. i had to trust in myself that i would locate my parachute in time so i didn't splat face first onto the ground. i feel like i just might be at the door looking at that long drop once again. and i am not so sure i trust myself these days.

oneword: options

I could clam up. I could crawl back into this hole of self-denial. I could listen to the voices of doubt and "reason" and stick it out. "Most people don't do something they really want until they're much older." What is that bullshit? I'm sorry. But I believe that I have more options than waiting until middle age to be happy.

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: major

Decisions I made, years ago, combining elements of my interests and loves. I tried to create a logical pathway, to funnel my journey towards a contrived, institutionalized version of success. But the farther I traveled down that road, the farther I moved from my Self. My Spirit shriveled inside the supposedly stable participant in the economic machine.

And now, as I move away from this chosen path to the alternate reality, the real reality, I walk away from a steady paycheck, benefits, and retirement funds--into an unknown. I walk away from the "right" job and the "right" life, to something less predictable but more me.

Someday, I hope those majors, those decisions from long ago, will meld together into something new and magical. I hope they will still serve me, that they are not for naught.

Until then, I step forward, one move closer to my Truth.

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: stack

new years resolutions. piled up hopeful and high with the promises of a better future than i may have let myself believe i was worthy of having.

here it goes. man up.

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.