Archive for November, 2009

November 30, 2009


Half of my day is spent worrying,
a creep through my ribs into my chest
each time I hear a cough
worried it might not be stoppable,
each time I can’t hear a wheeze at night
worried maybe the breathing has stopped altogether.

Worry forces my eyes to snap open
with the slightest bump.

Worry should just be a person
perched heavily on my shoulder
taunting me with scenarios of the scary.

Worry might be a companion,
annoying and depressing at best,
definitely not a friend.

And there he goes again.

November 29, 2009


“Come Again Tomorrow”

That quiet squeak
makes its way around the corner
sneaking up on me
as it does almost everyday
around this time.

A glance comes from the rider
quick and over his right shoulder
to me on the porch, book in my lap
as my own eyes pry themselves away
from the words on the page
to watch him pass.

Our daily routine
always includes each other,

His earphones are back
playing some tune
I wish I knew.
Yesterday he rode without them,
an alarming nakedness of the ears.

I wonder where he’s come from,
where he’s going.
I wonder too, if he wonders about me
who I am,
what my own crazy story might include.

For an entire four seconds every warm afternoon
our lives intersect
and he is familiar,
this handsome nameless man.

I miss him
in the winter.

November 29, 2009

a missed opportunity.

I wrote a poem awhile back, sometime within the past year, that I can’t find. And I want it.

I sometimes sit outside when it’s warm, brainstorming, waiting for something to spark something in me enough to write. On one particular day, this guy came riding his bike around our house. He did almost every single afternoon, at almost 4 o’clock. Every single day. I wrote a poem about him that day. I had only talked to him once, a few weeks after I had written that poem, and it wasn’t even really a conversation. It was a quick introduction, and I remember making a crack about him riding by my house all the time. It was the only time we ever spoke.

Well, he died this weekend in a car accident (he was a passenger in a car that was in a police chase. They rolled, and he was killed). I think more than anything else, I am so sad that I didn’t get the chance to know him. He seemed nice and like the type of person you’d want to know. I didn’t even know his last name, and my brother is the one who finally told me who he was this morning. And he’s all I have thought about ever since. It’s sad. He just rode by last week again, on the first nice day after that short cold front we had.

So now I am scouring notebooks and journals, trying to find this poem. I have found many others that I might post sometime, but not the one I need. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

UPDATE: Found it! Wrote on June 22, 2009. I knew it was summertime. I’ll post it soon.

November 28, 2009

a little at a time.

Baby steps over bumpy clay
and a sight off-kilter to my eyes, the horizon
bright with snow
of majestic mammoth mountains
in air without oxygen
and light without sun.

Patience waited for me this time,
and I took it

Baby steps is what I take.
Life is given to us slowly,
like sprinkles on a sweltering summer day
as our thirst aches for things to fall faster.

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November 25, 2009

Thanksgiving + family.

Tink’s tootsies, November 25, 2009

Thanksgiving this year is going to be a bit different. For one, we aren’t having a dinner. I know, Thanksgiving with no family dinner? Well, considering that almost everyone is sick or has been sick within the past two weeks with this awful flu, my mom decided maybe it was best that we all just stay at home and keep the sicknesses from spreading even further. We definitely don’t need any more sick babies around here. I doubt anyone would feel up to cooking or eating as much food as we usually have on Thanksgiving anyway, so we’re waiting until we’re all healthy and hungry to do that. Plus we’re all collectively losing weight by not eating much! We’re gonna need good fattening food.

I never really appreciated family or family events when I was younger. As I have gotten older and became friends with my siblings and parents, it’s much easier to just hang out with them. We can sit around, have a beer, and laugh. I can really only speak for myself, but I think that the rest of them enjoy it and appreciate it more now too.

We are the type of family that has every personality type and too many stubborn heads. We have been known to argue, fight, scream, cry, and hold each other when it’s needed too. We are also the family that huddles together around whoever needs and protects that person from everything. We are the family that defends its own. We are strong and bonded, and we are that way because cracks that were there have been patched.

I hope this never changes. They are who I am thankful for.

November 20, 2009

handwritten craze.

I scribble your name
my journal
junk mail
on imaginary lines on my pillow
with the tip of my finger
before I fall asleep
on napkins as I eat
when I’m alone
or not
across the sky with my eyes
when I’m in the car
with nowhere important to be
just so I don’t forget
the curves
or the sounds of its letters
or the feeling my heart feels
whenever I think about you.

I scribble your name
most illegibly
because I’m in such a hurry
to have it in front of me
to myself.

I miss seeing your face
and without your voice
I’m left with scribbling
your name everywhere.

November 18, 2009


You hold your heart right
in your front pocket for situations
just like this one,
when a pretty girl reaches her palm
outstretched and waiting.

You wait and hope
and wait and hope
and never get
what you wait and hope for.

You always get it back
broken shard by shard.
You never learn your lesson
and you’re never immune to the pain.

You just tape it back up,
get ready for the next one
and keep your heart still
there ready in your pocket.

November 15, 2009

I hope so.

Because that sure would be nice.

November 13, 2009

change of heart.

I thought I wanted you to hurry up and turn into winter, but I’m enjoying the colors (however dull they are becoming) and the soft cool wind. I’m enjoying the memories you make and the ones you conjure from my mind. I’m enjoying the bright, bright sun and the early evenings.

I’m enjoying you. Don’t hurry off. Stay awhile, please.

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November 11, 2009

Oh, I need to.

I have been really busy despite not really having a long list of things to do. I managed to get my resumè redesigned, Ashley’s paper edited and ready to turn in, and all my fonts and brushes transferred over to my little old Macbook. Plus I’m on the last book of the Twilight saga. After putting it off for so long, I gave in and read the first book a few months ago. Payden had the rest of the collection, and it is addictive. I’m not usually a big fan of fantasy books or vampire-ish stories, but these books got me hooked in the way that The Notebook did. It’s about the love story. I can’t wait for the new movie to come out!

Also, the writing is slowing down. Many of the posts lately are scheduled, which makes life 10x easier to keep something new on here. We’ll see how long I can manage to do that!

November 10, 2009


even when I can’t believe
a goddamn word you say,
I’ll still look at you and hope
hard that I’m wrong.

even when I feel you pull away,
I’ll tell myself it’s something else.

even when your smile
is only trying to smooth things over,
I’ll still look for some genuineness.

even when I want to leave,
I’ll always stay.

even when we say we don’t
love each other,
I always will.

November 7, 2009


It’s in you, right where
you always hide it,
and it’s waiting.
For you, it’s just waiting
whenever you are ready
and wherever you go,
it will too, still lingering,
for the day you are
finally ready.

It’s there and
you feel it.

November 6, 2009

just a little note.

It’s been a long week, a stressful week. I am so very looking forward to spending tomorrow doing nothing but reading New Moon and sipping tea. The weather will be warm though, so perhaps that the reading will happen outside. I’ve also been writing a lot. As if the crazy amount of poems posted lately didn’t give that away. The weight of words is sometimes forgotten until I finally get them out and onto paper (yea, I have to actually write them for them to feel real). It’s a good feeling.

Lindsay and I took Dayton today to snap some pictures. She was excited to get some new ones of him, and I just love taking them. Plus he can melt my heart with his little laugh and smirk. I can’t wait until he is old enough to sit up without help. That’s when the real fun starts. That’s when the pictures become never-ending.

November 4, 2009


–in response to the note in the front of AJ Rathbun’s book to me–

Well, cutting lines is much more fun
when wheels do the cutting
and nobody argues back
about the two feet they just lost
in a line that extends so far
around the room, dimmed down,
that the end and beginning
have no definite start or stop.

Just a line jumper,
line cutter am I.

November 3, 2009


If it doesn’t leave a little burning inside your chest,
it probably isn’t worth pursuing.

If it doesn’t leave you wanting more,
it’s not going anywhere.

That’s not you
and me.

When you and I are doing
does nothing less
than kill me every time we’re apart.

If it doesn’t do the same to you
just leave and put me out
of my misery now.

November 1, 2009

high hopes.

maybe we could do this,
change each other’s minds
about love.

could we be anymore
the same?
hurt and guarded,
seared but still waiting?

maybe we could get
each other through it
and find something new
on the other side.

maybe you could be
the one who finally
is able to break me.