oneword: husband

... not quite yet. but there is hope.

oneword: still

i was sick of couch potato still. sick of tired, aching, self-pity still. sick of being sick still. sick of numbing a brain, dead from stress, with reality tv and that 70's show reruns still. sick of running around all day - rich in movement for the good of others - but leaving no choreography for me still. well. no more. but still.

oneword: artistry

swirling acrylics pasted to the canvas. creating and swishing and swirling, so excited about this creation, this new start. excitment, nervousness and a little bit of fear. what if it is terrible? what if it is a mess? what if it is not what I want? what then? do i wipe the canvas and start clean, or is that more scary than trying to fix what is there? what if i start again and it is worse than what was previously there?

oneword: artistry

Not just art – good art. The implication of skill. Talent. A standard. But of what, exactly? Technique? Originality? Realism? Emotivism? I may have just made that last word up. I digress… sometimes my favorite works of art are the ones that come out nothing like how I wanted them to. I suppose that means I am an amateur. Good.

Artistry

Ripples of color, light and sound breeze by me like a breath of fresh air. Smallest details turn my heart into lava bubbling with excitment and passion at the mere prospect of the creativity about to wash over me, like a cold ocean wave that is both terrifying and invigorating all at the same time.

oneword: shepherd

Grab me by the hand and lead me through this because i do not know that i can navigate this on my own. I feel like I am messing everything up, and have broken things beyond mending. I do not feel like i am a good person any more. I have made poor choices. If i had it to do over again…I would do it differently. What’s done is done, and I must live with that, but I dont know how I am going to get through it. It tears at me from the inside. I need to find my way back to good.

oneword: shepherd

Push. Pull. Guide. Lead. Shape. Facilitate. Appreciate. Yes, I still masturbate. But far less frequently. I suppose I need to work on that. Did I ever consider myself a shepherd? No. More like a persistent, whiny person who liked to tell people what to do. Things have changed. But I am still whiny.

oneword: rocket

from far away you look like the mystic thing i need to fly among the starz i so wish i could be. but closer up you are nothing but hard metal and burning flames - a materialistic shell of scientific means. do all of my dreams crumble under realistic schemes to make the ims possible and the moons beam?

sew it seams...

oneword: endless

drive. passion. flair. work ethic. whatever you call it... mine is endless. over achiever. go getter. freak who needs a life. how do you manage? of course you came in on your day off. suck up. why do you always have an opinion? why do you always have to share it? is there anything you aren't involved in?

i get it. i make it crystal. fucking. clear. that you aren't doing as much as you could be. and that bothers you. much easier to blame me. much easier for you to make me look like i am the exception. than for you to step up your game. than for you to push a little harder. sweat a little more. and sacrifice some of that precious facebook time.

oneword: recipies

this parade leads with ingredients that step in time to satisfy needs. to become that happy homemaker your mother never thought you could be. preheat that oven - it isn't actually that horrible of a metaphor - i was hot and ready to go before i had the right ingredients to cook with. that, and the only things i knew how to make were cookies. i watch myself stuff face with the sweets from my past that are so unhealthy and bad for me... and while i am trying to eat right now, that void can't be filled with broccoli.

... no matter how good it is for me.

oneword: wake

somehow simultaneously the death of a loved one and the birth of a new day. somehow i am not looking forward to the latter lately. the beginning of a new year leaves me right back in the mess i desperately wanted to leave behind. too many balls in the air, too few hours in the day. even socializing feels like too much of an effort right now. oh cliched depression, how i've missed you. if there is one thing i have learned in the past year and a half, it's that you are a cyclical being. your lust pounds down on me in waves... my longest running love affair. i still quiver in your wake.

namesake

feels of forever since
i've seen your faces,
touched your soft places,
read your minds,
enjoyed your lines.

i've made like a
counting crows song
around here.

sorry, mom.
sorry, Jesus.


ghost

oneword: grown

These baby buds of hesitations and self deprecating questions have been nurtured over time.

By thunderstorm water cans, rainy day sunshine and selfish boy miracle grow... vines now climb to the moon and blossoms are rich and in full bloom.

This garden feels like home and seems to satisfy all of my needs, but upon a closer look the vines are thorned and the flowers are all really just weeds.

Stepping back from the moment

Stepping back from the moment was I think a sign of maturity, and sense. That surprised me as much as the impulse that prompted the stepping back. Mid sentenance I noticed her lips, and a forgotton memory eased free. An involuntary smile flitted across my face, and a gently laugh was surpressed.

Her lips were familiar in the way that a mother is familiar if you have met the daughter. She had the same lips that Mel had. Except she was a woman, and Mel is still a teenager, and ever will be. Mel was my first kiss. Mel is the standard all others are measured against. Mel is still 15, even though I have grown on.

I can still remember the sensual nature of that kiss, and fancy that the taste has never really left. But most of all I remember the big feeling from those small gentle lips. How could this little person have such power, and how could such a small little part of a person evoke so much.

And here in front of me is a stranger with the same lips, (but the adult version). So I had to step back. To enjoy the memory, and to ensure I did not get lost within it. Such Tempation! I have quietly added this moment to the memory of Mel, and will enjoy it on the quiet afternoons this winter. A little warmth to keep the blues away.

oneword: hostage

you've returned, and as always, are holding me in fear. i want to flee for my life, but you have cemented me right where i stand. i am stuck. i cannot move forward and there is definitely no turning back. i hate you for this. i hate you for this.

one day i will break this hold you have over me and i will escape. i will never be afraid of you again.

overdosing

maybe i could just overdose on mediocrity and start again.

i think i'm the only one i know who dreams in equations.

God, i hate math.




ghost

oneword: flashback

blink your eyes and your transported to a moment in time that haunts you. you can't shake it, you can't escape it. that moment you regret. you were afraid and now you'll never know. it eats away at you. you are reminded of that moment you didn't take what you wanted. steal it away into the night. you freeze frame on that moment. that one fucking moment that you had your opportunity to take it over. where you chickened out. and you snap back to reality. to now. this moment. and you realize...how long ago that was. let it go. live in the present moment. live here. live now. And you vow not to let another one of those moments pass you by. WAKE UP!

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: strung

tense and sharp like the strings were pulled too tight. badly out of tune and madly — full of fight. rings around fin­gers around necks. scream­ing lyrics of a lust that hasn’t hap­pened yet. out and up and turned around… where yes­ter­days hap­pen tomor­row and the sky lives underground.

oneword: secure

One day I would love to feel completely free to be who I am. I am afraid that I am not good enough...for anything, or anyone. I am working on that though. I am working to one day put myself ahead of other people. I am working to believe in myself, and to believe that I am a good person. I am working on my self esteem, and trying to build it. I would say re-build it, but it was never really quite stable. I think that I have spent entirely too long thinking the worst of myself, and hating myself. I am trying to learn to love myself and to respect myself. I am working to look myself in the mirror and like the person that is looking back at me.