Tuesday, October 12, 2010

"Nothing lasts forever but the Earth and sky..."

I know, I know.

I promised some poetry or something.

But I couldn't keep that promise.

When it flows it flows.

And when it doesn't.

Well, you know.


I miss fall colors.

They should be universal.


There hasn't been too much to update on.

I've been resting a lot because I can't seem to have a full good day lately.

The Tampa Bay PKD Walk was on Saturday and I was so glad my mom, dad and Grandpa came out along with Mike of course.

We raised $135 and I got my PKD walk tee shirt so I was happy.

It was catered by a barbecue place and I stuffed myself with pulled pork.

My family and I got interviewed by CBS radio and it will air here in Tampa on Sunday morning.

I'm glad old friends are coming back into the picture because I've missed them.

Fall is the time for porch chilling and the person who I've chilled on porches the most with is Brooke.

Plus she appreciates pumpkin spice milkshakes from McDonald's as much as I do.


I feel a lot of love around today.

That's never a bad thing.

So I say spread it around.

Like butter.


Last but not least, today the Tampa Bay Rays need to win their game against the Rangers.

They came back after being down 2-0 and well, I don't think any other team has come back from that other than the Yankees in awhile.

We're a good team. We can do it.

We just need hits because Lee is a crazy good pitcher.

And Price has to be on his game too of course.

Oh, October.

Too much excitement for one Jenn Neal.

Post-season baseball.



Halloween. (By the way, I'm going to be Grizabella from Cats for this Halloween party on the 30th...can't wait.)

Alrighty, I'm off to twiddle my thumbs until the game tonight.


P.S.- Doesn't Kansas rock?

Monday, October 4, 2010

Some Musings on Autumn

The internet is out. That's not why I'm writing though. It may be the motivation I needed to finally write but thoughts have (as per usual) been spinning around my head these days.

I long to mold them into something creative but seem to be lacking in that department of my brain at this time. I no longer feel guilty or beat myself up over this. I have learned that I will write when I am supposed to. After all, I do it for me.

The reason for these thoughts, these feelings I should say--like electricity that you can breathe with every wisp of fresh air--is the change in season. Cool weather has arrived early here in Sunny Florida and even though no one knows how long it will last I'm soaking up everything it has to offer.

I haven't been very mobile recently due to pain but today I walked a bit around Sims Park and it felt marvelous. Just sitting and looking at the trees, hearing children play, watching ripples in the water, seeing the sun cast shadows through branches and being in the moment: right where I needed to be.

For the past month I've been in what a friend of mine would call "the dark place". Some call it "emo". Some call it "depression". Some call it "a case of the blues". Whatever it is for you, you know what space deep inside yourself that I'm talking about.

This time around (because life is full of ups and downs...look around...we're ALL Bi-Polar) I learned that it's ok to allow yourself to enter that dark place and often times it is necessary to your well-being. Denying yourself an opportunity to let something(s) go is only going to make it worse the second time around.

Now that I'm crawling toward the light above this dark space, I'm getting that "familiar fall feeling" again. So many memories come back to me that I feel I've had a million autumns in my lifetime.

Back when raking leaves was fun because there was nothing that could compare to the feeling of jumping into the huge piles of them. Trick or Treating with the cousins on Halloween. Windbreakers, hot apple cider and hay rides. The good ole days. Simple joys.
Growing up, Fall always became a time of change. A new year of high school. A new group of friends. A new crush.

Eventually love.

Falling in love in Autumn is like nothing I've ever experienced before and I'm so lucky that it was the person who life brought me back to again years later. Today's walk in the park was the first of this year's Autumn memories for us and with more future fun events coming up I know there will be more.

So I'm feeling creative these days and I hope to produce some poems. I've got Ted and Sylvia reading to me before bedtime to inspire my dreams. (Although last night I had a terrible nightmare about all of my friends and family trying to kill me. It was awful. I managed to escape them but ended up in a room with only my boyfriend and he had a huge knife ready to plunge down into me. I feel it may be my subconscious feeling of being a burden to my family and friends and that they feel I'd be "better off dead." That's next on my list of things to work on!)

Such a morbid ending. Happy Halloween!

P.S.- I promise poems and better things to read other than my randomness coming soon!

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

The Best Worst Love

We're here, once again.
Life long friend.
Lover, protector,
forever caretaker.
Neither one of us
can seem to
let go.

I love you at best
I hate you at worst
in sticky notes
all over the place.

And still, I avoid your face.

The crying
The blame
The guilt
and the shame.

You're the one
who caused this.
You're the one
who ran.
You're the one
that started it
Can't you be
a man?

You're the one!
You're the one!

And he still sighs,
"You're the one."

Inhale slowly.

Your face is a mirror
and inside I see
The deepest, darkest worst
part of me

But your hand is always there
Your smile eases pain
You show me the deepest care
You're my sun through all the rain.

I'm lost right now,
This is true
But getting lost always
leads me back to you.
Because when you're
not with me I miss you.
The truth is
that I'll miss you.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Fairy Godmother

Fairy Godmother
Granting wishes with her smile
New ray of sunshine

Feather in your hair
Twirling, spinning around stars
Catch me, I'm falling

Drumbeats sound in a
deep, true rhythm that takes me
to infinity.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Backed Into a Corner/Expect

Shooting stars
Synchronized sighs
All we do is take turns backing each other into corners

Sweetness flows from his mouth like honey
I can't tell if what I'm hearing is a dream or not
And this really is all too familiar

But "Let's just be friends" like dawn crashing the cosmos' party ruins it all, you fool

By not wanting to lose me, you're going to get lost
By not wanting to hurt me, we're only going to get hurt

I can wait, undecided butterfly
I will perfect my skills at catching
I will check my net for gaps
I will be here
And you will always be fluttering in the background


The only thing you
can expect is to expect
the unexpected

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The Gale

This rainstorm looks like a gale
And I am on the deck of my ship
staring out into all of the greyness
but I remain dry on my covered front porch
taking in the anger of the town
There is a hint of drug use in this town
Wondering what the purpose behind "laying on the horn" is
Remembering how I once succumbed to its nonsense in a near-death experience
a careless driver caused me once
A couple starts fighting in the parking lot
of the convenience store across the street
just to prove my point
I start thinking about walking around with my childhood friends in the rain
I had a fear of manhole covers
I never walked over them
Sewers, we called them
"Why?" One of them asked
He always thought he was so smart
I said, shyly and awkwardly,
"Well, I uh-heard there was electricity down there..."
"There's just water! Water and electricity don't mix! The whole world would blow up!"
I accepted it
Now, at 27 I stare at the power lines dripping with water...
The world was slowly blowing up
Maybe there was electricity running beneath us
and not quite enough water to put out our own fires
That's why I prefer to keep my ship docked these days
Safe in the harbor
For sea-worthy, I am not

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Take the Red Pill

It's a meat puppet game/they're playing/with my head/my brain/my feelings/but I must not surrender my soul/Horse pills/red pills/don't forget to take your pills/don't hurt yourself/Do you feel like hurting yourself?/Any side effects?Dizziness/nausea /inducing while ingesting/My hands shaking/I'm not eating/My clothes aren't fitting/ "I'm not trying to say you're fat but...you're definitely not skinny anymore"/eat more this/don't eat that/forget what I just said because things have changed/take more blood/blow more veins/Does it hurt?/This might hurt/Tell me if it hurts/Lost/Brave/ Strong but fading/candle wick burning low/it's almost dawn/where has sleep gone?/I think this may be a vicious nightmare/a torturous punishment for an old crime/but it is not/It's too real/Just too real

Friday, August 20, 2010

All the Wrong Places

Waiting in the wings
Or in the back of the show
A different color each time
on her toes

Smoking cheap cigarettes
Or bumming classy brands
A different bar every time
but still the same old bands

Winking at the bartenders
Or making out in bathroom stalls
Noticing how clever this time
the graffiti is on the walls

Stumbling out before last call
Or early to bed some drone
Still thinking all the time
how she truly is alone

Wednesday, August 18, 2010


don't fall into the old traps
keep your hopes focused on those couples
the ones who hold hands in their sleep,
in the park, or secretly under a table at

don't drown your tears in tequila
remember you are a goddess
worthy of appreciation
and that you know how to honor gods
with the same devotion and with great

don't walk too far off of that edge
just peer over occasionally
to remind you
that once you leap you can never come
back; he will be there to hold you back

Monday, August 16, 2010

Twist of Fates

Dear twist of fates,
Take hold of my fragile (but not too fragile) being
guide it towards the path of being
not thinking of what I want to be
where I want to go
what I want to do
but just to be
whatever it is I am to be

Dear twist of fates,
Do not allow those kisses from last night
that still linger all over me
become bleeding wounds that take
way too long to heal

Dear twist of fates,
Forbid me to look upon him
whether in jealousy or envy
madness and anger
nor in unreciprocated adoration
But allow only in wonder and amazement
be my gazes

Sweet twist of fates,
I surrender
I surrender
Fearful and trembling,
I surrender

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Wish You Were Here

I think I know why my old friend used to flip out so much.
He was a big Lou Reed fan.
I remember one night at Hudson Beach in particular.
On the ride over he got upset over the lyrics to Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'".
"Lies. All lies. Working to get their fill...that's not true. Everyone wants the thrill for free."
I sighed, knowing it would be one of those nights and focused on the road ahead and the stars above me at the same time.
It was clear out for once and not too hot.
I was wearing a light sweater and I knew the sound of some waves would be inspiring.
There is something terribly dangerous about the creatives roaming around at nightfall.
Especially at beautiful places like a beach.
My friend and I were would-be poets.
I chose spiral notebooks as my easel to scrawl my finger-paint project prose.
He chose coffee shop napkins and margins of philosophy and "Great Quote" collection books to compose couplets.
Or observations of wherever he was at.

He told me a story once about how he and a conspiracy theorist friend of his spent an evening flicking off satellites.
Paranoia was a personality trait of my friend.
You either dealt with it or you didn't.
And it never got too out of hand.

Well, occasionally.
Hence, this story.
It's hard for me to listen to my male friends complain about loneliness.
One of three things are destined to happen.
I think, "Well, I'm single too..." (If that be true.) "So...what if we were to date?"
A dozen reasons on why that's such a bad idea then quickly crush that.
The other scenario would be that he is the one with the thought and then there's the awkwardness of the moment before someone/both decides to do something or nothing and pray for non rejection.
On this night I just felt bad.
That's what happens thirdly.
Usually if I know they're a good guy and could probably find someone.
I believe there is someone for everyone out there.
Maybe multiples.
I give the stale advice, "You'll find her eventually."
He starts to go on a tirade about women then and what they do and previous life stories of how they've tempted him and tore him to pieces.
Some of what he spouted off made me cringe.
Then he asks me if I've heard much of Lou Reed.
"I don't believe so, no." I said. I had heard some. Not enough to recognize but I wanted him to switch topics.
"Harry's circumcision," he said staring off distantly over the gulf.
"Excuse me?" I coughed hiding the chuckle that wanted to escape.
"There's a song called 'Harry's Circumcision...listen to it. You'll understand what I mean."
"Well," I inquired. "What's it about?"
I asked for another sandstorm that I didn't expect.
This time his voice grew louder as he explained to me, in despair, how unfair it was that he was robbed of a piece of his manhood and that they (whoever they were) were still allowed to do this and how awful it was and he had no choice in the matter.
How I was supposed to understand that, I didn't know so I tried the soothing approach.
"Hey, hey man...it's cool," was all I could offer.
He seemed to get frustrated and after a moment screamed out to the stars, "I WANT IT BAAAAAACKKK!"
I shushed him quietly and before I could even figure out what was happening he was off and running.
Where he was going, I don't know but my instincts told me to follow.
I'm short. I can't run very fast but I was doing a good job of keeping up.
I kept screaming his name but he wasn't stopping.
We didn't run for long.
Not even halfway across the small beach but the both of us were gasping for air.
The cool winds whipped my hair around my face as we were closer to the water now.
The waves crashed onto shore forcing us to scream now.
"What is wrong with you!?" My eyes had to be as wide as the sky.
"I'm sorry!"
"You freaked out on me, man!"
"I know! I know! I'm sorry!"
He motioned for me to follow him back to the car.
"You alright?" I asked before we got in.
"Yeah. Thanks for the ride to the beach. I feel better now."
"Really?" I didn't know whether to believe him or not.
He was shuffling around his backpack.
The one he's always carrying with him.
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry again." He patted my head and gave me the smile.
This middle aged man with his acid torn brain who still had the sparkle of naivety and innocence in his eyes was patting my head in reassurance and I felt like I needed to lead him by the hand straight to someone who could take better care of him than I could because I was his terrible, terrible mother even though I was much younger.
It seemed backwards.
"Here, put this on. Please."
He handed me a CD.
I popped it in asking "What is it?"
"Lou Reed. I think you'll love it..."

(for my dear friend Nick, wherever you are)

Friday, August 13, 2010

"Yeah, we've all got problems..."

Vagina Problems

When my girl friend visits
We talk about how silly everyone is
Sometimes we realize how silly we are
Vagina problems
Marriage, babies, death
We can't tell which one we want to avoid the most
And we laugh because maybe these three instances feel the same
It is laughter that saves us
The mischievous giggling wafting into the night
Like witches we cackle to the open-minded moon
Casting love spells so that she may deliver perfectly our messages
to those men who don't seem to exist
We know that love and security just aren't enough
For we see the magic in between

(Inspired by Meg)


I act uninterested
when your name
comes up
I turn my head
to hide whatever
shadow may
have fallen
on my face

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Poetry Group

On a sticky night in August I checked out this poetry reading at a local coffeehouse
There was this one girl with a lot of dangly fake silver bracelets and a fake smile to match
with a binder full of rhyming poems about how much she loved her boyfriend, how sad it was
when they broke up and how the rain made her feel both happy and sad
All of the pages were so bright and cheerful or dark and grey depending on the topic
There was a middle aged woman who wrote little stories for her children with quirky
characters with drawings to match
Her voice was whimsical and brought a laugh to my heart
There were two old men with old notebooks and a separate pair of prescription glasses
for reading
One told us about his life, his wife and the search for a truth he believe no longer existed
The other about birds, and nothing more
A gentleman around my age carried a leatherbound journal and was trying too hard to be
Charles Bukowski
A girl barely 18 to his left with too much eyeliner told us she wanted to kill herself every day
but that she was so afraid of everything and that scared her the most
There were odes and sonnets and rhyming and no rhyming and free flow verse and haiku
with a little bit of banter in between to make it all go down smoother
It was my turn
I had nothing
No notebook, journal or binder could contain what I would have to say
There is not enough paper in the world upon which to fill my thoughts
Most importantly, there was not enough courage in the world to be given to me
to share as these have
My silence was my pledge for mercy
My listening eyes as they read was establishing my role there
But no one noticed
And walking back out into the sticky night I felt a cool, refreshing breeze of relief

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The Same

Oh, but that my voice would fall upon ears that not only listened
but reverberated with joy and ecstasy like that of a man struck deaf
by the last soothing symphony he ever heard in his life
That my lips be devoured like a last meal
That my breath be taken and never given back
Oh, how my body longs to align like stars with another's
How my eyes wish they held something memorable
and worth seeing
Yet I am closed out
Laughed at
Or an object
Every story ends the same

Oh, That Reminds Me

There is nothing I like better than being high and listening to good music and playing with a piece of string you have randomly sitting on your desk/It reminds me of how I'm almost finished reading the book "Cat's Cradle" by that Vonnegut fellow that I started three years ago/I want to pick it up again but even those few pages in that one particular book are too much right now/I don't know what day it is and that reminds me of the time I went to Vegas and because there were no windows in any casinos you never knew if the world even existed outside of the walls of the buildings anymore/That reminds me of how I haven't left the house in a good while and I'm not too sure anyone's noticed/That reminds me that I've been thinking a lot about why I'm still here/That reminds me that I am still here and that I have a life to live even if I'm not sure if I know what it's really "all about"/That reminds me that it annoys me when people think they know what everything is "all about"/I will never be "all about" it/The next song plays and I am reminded of that one time I was stoned and sitting in my room, listening to good music and wondering where that string came from.

Tea and a haiku

There are no playground
words for you: no innocent
insults in your game

The Last I Heard

The last I heard from him was a click
Not a sharp one, mind you
A soft delicate pin-prick
dead center
that slowly bleeds me dry
He is an eyelash forever stuck in my pupil
Blinding my view and causing me to tear
But the raindrops are wasted for he
doesn't deserve a one of them
This place, this space, his half-smiling face
I kick and scream at it in despair
Night crawls, stars fall
And I wish on none
For I am so very done

Monday, August 9, 2010

It starts out slowly
like the drizzle
before a big storm
the kind with the
flashing of lights
so bright
they're blinding
and the booms of thunder
so deafening
you think your heart
may stop.
Suddenly it's a windstorm
of emotions and
preconceived notions
and I feel trapped
by your eyes and
in your arms.
To escape could mean
that I'm once again
running away
from all that is good.
Or it could mean
that I am dodging
a future bullet that
this time I may
not survive.
I walk a tight rope
swaying this way
and that.
This way is fearful
and trembling
and makes me
cry and unable
to breathe.
I fall that way
I fall in
and get the rush
of jumping, diving, rushing
completely in
And what am I afraid of?
I don't know

Sunday, August 8, 2010


I do my best not
to complain
and I don't feign
pain just to
gain anything
from you.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

From last night

my nails looked like shit
but I liked them that way
all trashy-lookin' and chipped
I was picking at them
when I noticed you
out of the corner of my eye
watching me
yet keeping safe distance
I settle my heart
straw stirring
your lips hardly ever form smiles
next to you I am so small
a bit of ash on the floor below you
and even if you sweep me away
at least you'll have noticed me

Sunday, August 1, 2010


Get it?

Like "emo mode"?

I think it's funny.

So, I've been thinking a lot today.

Crying a lot today.

Journaling a lot today.

I don't publicize details anymore.

I stopped that back when I quit Blurty.

And even on the Windwood and other Myspace blogs I never gave too much away.

No one really cares about what dramas you got going on anyway.

I know I typically don't care unless they're a close friend of mine and it's something really serious.

Then again, even the not so serious stuff ("this guy/girl did this to me" "she/he said this, can you believe it?") I'll still lend an ear for and offer a bit of advice if I can.

Usually it involves something along the lines of: It sucks. I know. But it'll pass. Trust me.

Ahh, advice.

It's so easy to give but so hard to take.

I've been hearing it all day.

"It'll pass."

"It's ok."

"Aww, don't be upset."

Maybe it won't pass?

No, it's not ok.

And I'm upset.

I have a pretty good reason.

And I would advise anyone else to get out whatever they need to get out (safely) however they need to get it out.

For me, it's tears.

I'm killing trees today, ladies and gentlemen.

This box has a huge dent.

I'm noticing discussions on Facebook and the real world. (Yes, there still IS one!)

"Where are all the nice girls/guys?"

"I'm tired of games...etc."

*insert song lyric or status update that's totally aimed at YOU...yeah YOU*

(You know that passive aggressive stuff that the majority of us do just to see if the other person notices so that they know EXACTLY how you feel....yeah? *raises hand* Guilty.)

Lately I've been depressed by all of this because of situations in my life.

I am no longer with my boyfriend, Mike, anymore.

Everyone knows by now.

We have reasons.

We're best friends and it's not changing.

He's still the greatest guy ever even if he's not the greatest guy for me.

I feel guilty a lot.

I know I shouldn't.

He takes care of me....he picks me up off of the floor when I have seizures....he sits with me while I vomit....all that nasty "being sick" stuff that I go through on an almost daily basis, he's right there.

And I will forever be thankful and will never be able to repay him for as long as a live.

But the thing about Mike is...he doesn't WANT payment.

But anyways...I'm digressing.

Mike is just awesome.

You should all know.


Depressing things:

1. I have a tendency to want what I can't have
2. I feel my sickness gets in the way of personal relationships and I really doubt I will ever find someone again
3. I feel I was played recently
4. I feel a friendship I value is ruined

(1,3 and 4 are related)

But the most depressing thing of all, probably, is that I constantly see "all the lonely people" complaining and saying terrible things about the opposite sex assuming that "they're all the same."

Situations may be the same.

What just happened to me recently is so close to soo many scenarios that have happened in the past but the only constant in them is me.

So, it must be me, right?

I can't figure out what it is though.

I don't want to be egotistical...but I think I'm pretty great.

I love myself. :)

I think that everyone should.

(Love themselves that is...loving me is awesome too...makes me sad when people don't like me...especially when they have no reason...but...that's another post.)

After I found out how serious my medical situation was and how things would change for me one of the decisions I made was that I would not get into a relationship ever again.

I didn't want to put someone through that.

I didn't want to tell a guy I met..."So, yeah...I can't drive, I'm in constant pain so sex is going to be pretty non existent, I'll seize out sporadically and I often drool on myself during that process...I can't have children, oh and yeah I kinda don't even have a job or a home anymore."

See what I mean?

The biggest thing is the child factor.

I'm not sure if I medically can or not.

I know I wouldn't.

My insides couldn't handle something else floating around in there.

PKD pregnancies have a high risk for complications for mother and child...plus that whole possibility of passing this horrid disease onto a child (a coin flip) just doesn't sit well with me. So, it's a choice.

Adoption? Sounds great, potential future life partner.

But you'll be able to run around and pick them up and take care of them too, right?

See what I mean?

Guys don't want to admit it, but the majority of them want a family someday.

The white picket fence and nice wife to cook and clean.

The whole bloody shebang.

And at a time in my life I wanted that more than you could possibly know.

But it won't happen.

And that sucks.


I think the whole point of this was to just vent about how no matter how things go and who's meant to be with who and who's not the one thing I hold onto is hope.

Hope for everything.

That maybe someday there will be a guy who fits my bill and doesn't care about my situation.

That I'll get over the recent heartbreak in my life.

That they'll find a damn cure for this stuff.

And most of all, the hope that tomorrow will be there to enjoy.

I think about dipping out on this ride a lot.

But, nah.

The things I'd miss I value.



Good music.

Chair dancing.


Plus, who's blog would you read?


Alright, I'm out.

In closing, I'd like to say that not all girls are the same just like all guys aren't the same.

Take chances.

No fear.

Follow your heart.

And all that jazz.

Oh, and when in doubt, just cry it out!

(It works for me.)

Thursday, July 22, 2010


I sat today and tried to write a note
telling you I'd like to slit your throat
if it would only take back all of those things you said
but then I realized I'd never live with you dead

I don't know what sleep is or what food tastes like anymore
since you came walking through my open door
giving me those precious looks with those deep eyes
it didn't take me long to realize

My only problem right now is you
And the constant nothings that you do
You suck me in then push me away
And things seem to change with every passing day

I never know what's going on now
I try to figure out exactly how
I allowed you to have this much over me
And to be the cause of such misery

3 times in your arms
3 shooting stars
3 wishes
3 kisses

When I see you again, will it be the same?
Will we continue this silly game?
Will you make up your mind?
Because a love like this is hard to find

I'm doing my best to back off and wait
I'm trying so hard not to irritate
My tears I've really grown to hate
And I can't stand that I still smile

every time that damn cell phone vibrates

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Ahh, the time I fell in love with that one barista

I was looking through some old stuff and came across this poem I had written about a Starbucks barista while I was working at Citrus Park mall.

The concierge booth I (wo)manned was right behind the kiosk and when we were slow I'd find myself just staring at him.

Pathetic, I know.

But he gave me free stuff.

AND even brought me tea when I was sick once.


But then there was this one day.

Valentine's Day of all days.

My STUPID self went and bought him some candy (because I had bought some for him for Easter...AND Christmas) in the shape of a heart with a little bag and everything.

It was my "please, get the hint because this is driving me nuts" attempt.

I gave it to him when a girl was with him.

I swear to you, she LOOKED like his little sister or cousin or something.

Turns out...it was his girlfriend.

*smacks forehead*

He introduces me.

"Well, you guys will surely enjoy the candy then!"


She didn't seem to care.

It was like nothing to her.

That's why it was so confusing.

I avoided Starbucks for like a week but my chai tea cravings were too much one day.

He was working. (Crap!)

"Hey Jenn! Thanks again for that candy! It was good!"

"Nooo problem. Soooo....did you have fun with your girlfriend on Valentine's Day?"

"Oh yeah, we just did family stuff and hung out."

I nodded.

And then said "Well, see ya!" and ran.


At least I did it right?

He was so cute and so nice and was always so freaking POSITIVE and I love people like that.

Anyways, here's the freaking poem.

*end memory*


proves difficult
when your quintessence
is so apparent

I sense your presence,
look up
and there you are


you smile
time stands still

The world around me
ceases to exist
and there is only
eyes locking

Yours and mine

I try to speak
but my lips remain silent

And you just walk by
never knowing how I feel inside

November 16, 2008

Friday, June 11, 2010

No One - a haiku

I love you because
no one asks if I'm ok
as much as you do

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Reading and Writing

I'm trying to write every day.
When I'm not writing, I'm reading.
I highly recommend checking out www.thenervousbreakdown.com
Some of the best stuff I've ever read and I love incorporating it into my every day.

I also read Stephen King's "On Writing" and a lot of Bukowski.

Other writer friends have been writing a lot too so I've been reading their stuff

The creative bug is in the air, maybe?

It's probably a good time to want to be holed up in front of a computer screen or hunched over a notebook....scribbling out stuff....thinking it's all crap....

But anyways, yeah....now's a good time....it's going to be hot as hell soon.

I heard rumors of it getting in the 90s this weekend.

Curse you, Florida.

Ok, here's some new stuff I've been working on.

I don't know what I'm talking about half the time so bear with me.

"Sensory Overload: Sometimes it's Ok"

Is it bad that I’d like to say “take your inspiration and choke on it”?
I search and search with no avail
And I grow envious as I see you revel in it
Glorious words flow down on your pages like moonbeams from some great cosmic source
And I sit, staring
At black and white and grey
A nothingness I can’t escape from

"Blue Oyster Cult Morning"

It was a Blue Osyter Cult morning
headlines screamed of nonsense and suicides
everyone in the world was on the remedy
those pills your mother gave you really did do something this time

My room has no clocks because I don't want to know
how each moment keeps passing by so quickly
I'd have no lights too if I didn't like to read so much
those books that I've collected remind me that I'm alive

I used to be a breakfast person but now a cigarette replaces my first meal
for lunch I eat my own words and throw them up onto pages
my bathtub is my safe haven and Led Zeppelin, The Beatles and Jim Morrison accompany me
those guys knew there was magic beyond the way things really were

The stars come out to play and I hide from them
they remind me of the eyes I feel are always on me
watching me as I accomplish nothing and filling me with guilt
those who told me that dreams and hopes were wasteful might just be right


I want you
to stop talking
to kiss the chapstick
off of my lips
to say what you really
mean and what you
really feel
for once
just once.

I want you
to quit doubting yourself
your looks
your hair
what you should do
what you shouldn't
and stop asking me
because I don't want
to admit that you're

.eye contact.

I caught you
a glance
that spelled
out eternity
and in one
I fell
in love
and then
we both
by everyone


Treacherous storms
That's what we are
Us girls
Us females
We fill our time
With needless pressures
We want our noses smaller
Our breasts bigger
Our skin darker
Our skin paler
Our hair straight
Our hair curly
Our voices heard

We give up comfort for style
We give up self respect for surgery
We knick ourselves shaving
We get high off of chemical hair dyes and perfumes
We get lost in fashion magazines
We curse our waistlines
We curse our flaws
We curse each other

But then we learn that guys just don't care about any of that
And it really doesn't seem fair

"The Fortune Teller"

The room was tight and cramped
Muskrats and earwax with a tint of incense
lingered in the air
She made me a cup of tea and wanted me to stay awhile
I saw no crystal ball yet she claimed to know the future
She said she saw it in the tea
Her hair was wavy
Her eyes were way too old
I wanted to know about dying
She didn't know the answer
I wanted to know about love
She looked the other way
"Your future"
she finally said while filling my cup again
"Will always lie in the questions you ask in the present."
She said nothing more until our teacups were empty
"That will be forty bucks, dear"
without missing a single beat


Remember that time
we walked around downtown
and stopped and looked over
the bridge
and the smell of roses was lingering
in the air
and then we got flashed
by that car full of rednecks
That girl's breasts were
just flopping in the wind
and we just stared
and called it
a night


this rose on my desk is dying
but it reminds me that I must keep living
without you
when all the petals fall
I'll collect them
and mail them to you
By the time they get there
they'll be dust
and you'll sweep that up too
and then empty it out
into the trash

It'll get better. And easier.

If I just believe.

Saturday, April 10, 2010


It's Saturday.

I haven't had one of those days where I just sit and write about whatever's on my mind in awhile.

Today is one of those days.

I remember my old blogs.

I used to keep up with them.

They were full of randomness.

So, for today, bring on the random.

These days bring on the anything will suffice.


I got out of the house this week!

Not just like a quick trip to the BP for smokes or to McDonald's for a burger that I probably shouldn't be eating anyway.

My friend came and picked me up.

I'm going to leave his name out because he'll probably get mad at me.

So it was like 10:30 in the morning when all this went down.

I'm pretty nocturnal these days and the fact that I was up at that time and not just falling asleep at that time was pretty amazing.

The same for him.

He's a weirdo too.

I didn't believe him when he said he was on his way because anytime he's "on his way" it usually means at least an hour or so will go by before he arrives.

I just sat down to eat my bagel and cream cheese in peace and there he was.

"For real?" I was shocked.

"What? I said I was leaving in a minute."

So I scarfed down the bagel and we were on our way.

I had my "rock star in recovery" sunglasses on.

I've been using that way too much but it was so funny when the same friend said it that it stuck with me.

It was a few days earlier.

I had a bad migraine.

He came over to visit us and I was laying in bed with my sunglasses on.

"Do the lights bother you that much?" He asked.

"Yes." I tried to hide the fact that I was tired of being asked that question since I started doing this when my migraines got bad.

This was my first really bad "the lights are too bright" migraine I'd had since I'd been back in Florida so it was overwhelming too.

He giggled and said, "You look like a rock star in recovery."

I couldn't stop laughing about it.

It got my mind off of the migraine.

I am also easily amused.


"We're like mall walkers, dude." I said.

"What?" He was always so distracted. Either that or I mumble. Or he has a hearing problem.

"Mall walkers. We get up at 10 am and go to the mall for exercise."

I don't know what he said then.

We probably talked about a whole lot of nothing.

We usually do.

I texted my friend Meghan to see if she was working at Starbucks but she wasn't.

I mentioned in the text that I felt like a mall walker.

She responded with a series of mall walker jokes including how when we were older we should have a mall walker gang called The Devil's Walkers and pimp out our walkers or wheelchairs with skulls and wear headbands.

I laughed hysterically.

Easily amused.


"So what about these ones? Do these look good?"

He was asking me about shoes.

I love shoes.

But he was asking me about shoes for him.

"Yeah those are cool. But do you like them?"

This was often how things went with us.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"Where should we eat?"

"What do you want to eat?"

We spend way too much time talking about what we're going to do and deciding what we should do based on what the other person wants that it's a wonder we ever do anything.

Weirdos of a feather....

"I guess. What do you think?" He was impossible.

"Well, put them on and see how they feel and stuff."

He didn't seem like he wanted to do that.

He moves to another pair. "What about these?"

I'm starting to feel like a robot. "Yeah those are cool. But do you like them?"

"Girls are supposed to help with this stuff." He was getting aggravated.

Then it dawned on me.

Yes. Girls loved shoes.

Well, I loved shoes anyway.

But I loved shoes for me.

When you went shoe shopping with your girlfriends and they asked if a pair was cute you said yes because you wanted them for yourself.

You said no if they really weren't your style.

Shoe shopping was a selfish event.

I looked around and realized I had absolutely no interest in guy shoes whatsoever.

I'd never wear them so what did I care?

"Just put them on!"

I sat down on one of those little whatever they're called things in the aisles of shoe stores. The things with mirrors on the bottoms so you can see your shoes in them.

You know what I'm talking about.

So he did reluctantly.

See, I think that might also be a difference when it comes to shoe shopping with guys and shoe shopping with girls.

Girls want to try them on.

Who wants to end up buying a hideous pair of shoes or worse yet an uncomfortable and hideous pair of shoes?

(Slight discomfort is acceptable if the shoes are really cute.)

Guys just want to go into a store and pick something up and it will all work out ok.

I couldn't tell if they just didn't have patience for trying things on or were just too lazy to care about it.

Then I thought maybe guys are afraid to spend too much time on appearance because that might look uncool.

I remembered my boyfriend, Mike, telling me the night before, "I don't care about appearances."

But then when he went on a late night run to get some cigarettes he put his jeans on instead of going in his flannel pajama pants.

I pointed it out.

"I don't want people looking at me weird!" He exclaimed.

I repeated what he said earlier.

He didn't say anything.

I go out in penguin pajamas and Hello Kitty pajamas all the time.

It's no big deal to me.

But only to like the store or something and usually only late at night.

I'm weird about appearances.

I don't care really.

But if I'm going out somewhere or people might be coming over I try to make an effort.

Where is the line between "care" and "not caring"? And is there a difference between the sexes?

But I digress....


My friend settled on a pair of shoes which I actually thought were pretty cool looking.

Then we decided to hit up the book store.

I ran into my high school drama teacher, Mr. Sievert, there.

I love that guy.

He seemed depressed.

Every time I've run into him throughout the years he seems depressed.

He usuallly admits it too.

I recommended Brad Listi and Gabe Rotter to him.

The store didn't have either of the books though so I told him I got mine at Borders.

We had awkward conversation and I ended up taking off because I realized my friend was blowing up my phone and plus his wife was in the store and she's hated me since I was a student for some weird reason.

I guess she was like that with all female students.

So I find my friend and then we're in the parking lot smoking cigarettes and deciding where to go for food.

He started talking about when he was 18-19 and how having ten bucks in your pocket was like the best thing ever.

I mentioned how awesome things were back then.

When going to the mall was cool.

When you got out of the house every day.

We pretty much became self defeatists for about five minutes.

"My aunt says you shouldn't focus on who you were or what you once did," I said. "But you should concentrate on who you are now and what's in front of you."

"But is it bad to think about things?" he asked.

"No. But I think dwelling on the past is kind of useless ya know?"

"Let's go to A & W!" he said.

More good food that made you feel gross later.

But the thought of a root beer float amused me so I forgot about everything and happily agreed.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010


I had to go get blood drawn today.

Routine checkup on the kidney function, etc.

I hate having my blood drawn.

I hate needles.

It’s weird. My arms have been poked and prodded tons of times.

Blood here.

An IV there.

Every time I get the same foreboding feeling.

I’ve never looked either.

I’m thankful for any type of noise too because I’m so afraid of being able to hear my blood hit the tube.

It’s not so much the fear of needles though.

Maybe it’s just the fear of blood.

I remember when I was a kid and I passed out when I sliced my finger open with an Exacto knife.

I passed right out.

I used to tell the nurses and phlebotomists about my fear of needles.

“Just don’t let me look,” I’d say.

“Don’t like needles, huh?”

Why do people ask questions when they already know the answer?

Awkward laugh.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, let’s see. Ahh….ducks. You like ducks?”

They always want to start talking about something with the hope that it will distract you.

I’m not making that up either.

A nurse actually started talking about ducks one time.

Their voices sound so funny too.

Like they’re struggling not to say the wrong thing.

Like they’re at a job interview.

Or a funeral.

The best times I ever got my blood drawn were during my hospital visits.

I was always on pain meds or some kind of sedative so I didn’t feel a thing.

One time a med student blew my vein completely though and that was awful.

The bruise it left was crazy.

My fear of needles started during childhood.

I used to cry every time I had to “get a shot” and would ask if needles would be on the doctor’s agenda for me.

I can remember my mom even lying to me about it one time.

It’s funny to be so afraid of something so small too.

I think about how a lot of our fears are of things that we’re way bigger than.

I’m talking about those little fears.




But things like death and being alone….

Well, those are way bigger than us.

In my teens and early twenties I started to develop a fear of getting stuck.

It didn’t matter in what situation.

I just never wanted to be there.

Maybe all the needles in my life have all been metaphors.

So, the phlebotomist today was told about my needle fear.

“Just don’t let me look,” I say.

“Aww, there’s nothing to it. I don’t know when you last got blood drawn but they have tools now so that you don’t even feel it.”

“I had it back in May. And I had an IV last week.”


“Sometimes I feel it, sometimes not. Depends on the person. I just don’t like looking at the blood.”

She says what they all say then.

“Well, you have good veins.”

I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not and I stopped saying “thank you” to that years ago.

I just turn my head because I know the inevitable is about to happen.

I feel the needle go in and then she laughs suddenly.

It’s one of those inopportune times.

I don’t want to look.

Maybe something is funny about my blood hitting the tube.

Maybe there’s a weird expression on my face.

Maybe a random funny line from a sitcom she watched last night just jumped into her head at that moment.

“I can always tell when they feel it,” she says.

“Oh yeah?” I ask.

“Yeah. The foot starts going.”

I look down to see my left foot swinging back and forth.

“Every time.”

I curse myself internally for letting the fear consume me and am relieved when she places the Band-Aid over my dot sized wound.

I don’t know how.

But I’ve survived it once again.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Gotta get back into the flow of things

I went an entire month with no blogs.

Just couldn't get into it like I hoped I would.

I do want to start posting poetry here.

So I think I'll do so now.

Here's a couple of older ones I'm pretty fond of:

Internal Epiphanies Often Appear on the Outside

Revelations in thrift store dresses
Secrets covered by boxed red tresses
Pay me in your compliments
And recognized accomplishments

Speak your volumes with your eyes
Hide the truth with little white lies
I listen carefully just so you know
And when time is up quietly I go

There's no room in here for you
My bed
My head
You've broken through

So read me like you read your books
And silence me with those cold hard looks
Through acceptance I've been set free
And no more talk of you and me

Until you surrender it will never be

You Think You Know

It's denial laced in silence
"Excuse me, what did you say?"



Nothing to you means everything to me.

I didn't intend for it to mean so much, love.

I didn't intend to give so much....love.

Another successful self inflicted heartache.
And you're there asleep on the line.

Whisper softly so I'll hear.
Then deny the truth that's there.

I believe in what I see.
I have faith in you and me.

Switch the subject.
Laugh it off.

I hear the smile.
And the scoff.

You're right.
You're right.
I must have misunderstood.

Apologies exchanged, accepted.

.then move on.

"Darling, is everything alright?"

"I just called to make sure everything was alright"

And a new one for good measure:

I sat still and listened
I pictured you in the clouds
I remembered that one time I saw you smile
I imagined your hand in mine
I felt the pain you feel
And it became my own
Every breath I took was hard to take
My awareness of self I could not shake
Night soon fell
And the meteors spelled out your name
I knew if I opened my eyes I would lose you
You're always just out of reach
Come back and remind me
Save me from the waters
For I am drowning
Dawn rains down on my face
Brings me back down from floating in space
I miss you
I blinked too quickly
And you were gone

And as always....feel free to share....I love reading others' poetry as well.

Happy writing!