Monday, February 16, 2015

Phantom Itch

The sweet, rusty taste of rot has finally faded away, leaving behind a wound that has slowly settled into a pink pucker of gum, creeping inward as if it were a sea anemone folding within itself.  It's briny and soft to the touch.

Sometimes I can still feel the phantom itch haunting between the crevices—I'm tempted to slip my molar back into its socket and wriggle it to root.



You were young and you'd stare
With a reverence unimpaired
There was an echo far and faint
Beneath the air remained
You were young and you'd stare
Where my limbs hung far and fair
Make a ladder of what folds
And climb up in me

You push and you pull and you tell yourself no
It's like when you lie down, the veins grow in slow
You push and you pull
But you'd never know
I crept up in you and I
Wouldn't let go.

Thursday, February 5, 2015

When is enough, enough?

There it is again.

That crushing sense of inadequacy, wrought by an inherently self oppressive nature.

I realize that most of the pressure I feel is self-imposed because I build on top of my heart, while loving from the bottom of it.  I stack heavy expectations, structured with the weak support of unreasonable standards.  It's hard to know if you're enough, or if what you're doing is enough.

But exactly, when is enough, enough?

After mulling it over today, I'm beginning to understand that "enough" in itself is somewhat of a vague and variable standard, so it can't really be measured as a way to determine success.  I suppose that it has to start from within—if you don't ever think that you're enough, then you'll never know what is, even if someone tells you.  Like happiness, maybe success is a journey, rather than a destination.
"And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good."
-John Steinbeck


I can't go to sleep tonight
Because the thought of darkness makes me feel alive
And I can't find a way to dream
When I'm thinking about every single thing
I think I'll be happier if I turn my brain off
Until the morning stirs
I think I will find a day
When all this noise will help me sink away

My mind is running away with my sleep tonight
My mind is running away with my sleep tonight

Let's get out of our minds today
And take a little time to look at the stars and the moon above
Wishing someone like you
Was staring at them too

I can see my shadowed mirrors
Reflecting all my deepest darkest fears
I think home will fix this mess
A bed of my own makes it worth the stress.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Push Ups & Knock Ups

M suggested that I make it my resolution to do 20 push ups by the end of the year.  Looking up at him from my wasabi peanuts, I snorted.

I'm pretty sure I've never even done 20 push ups in my lifetime.  When I asked him why, he said mildly, "I don't know, so you can lift a baby when the day comes."

Nice try.

Anyway, I've made it my resolution to not get pregnant—or at least not until I'm ready to share the sweet, foolish man that thinks I'm going to work out anything but our relationship .  The heaviest thing I lift these days is my heart.  It's so full of you.




Happiness
Feels like this;
Your heart upon your sleeve.
There's a place,
In time and space,
We can all be free.

So meet me at the rainbow's end.
We don't even have to pretend
That we know what it is we're looking for,
We're looking for.