Solutions

Chills
Shaking violently
Buried in blankets
Legs wrapped around
Arms rubbing

No comfort comes
No relief
It doesn't
End

Fever burns deep
Making everything else
Feel cold

As long as there is a fever
There will be
chills
No matter how many blankets you lie under

Heartache
Crying endlessly
Wrapped in arms
Told you are loved
Kisses plenty

No comfort comes
No relief
It doesn't
End

Deception hurts deep
Making it hard to
Like yourself

As long as there is deception
There will be
Heartache
No matter how many people love you.

expectations

i am expected to be what others are not

i must be honest when others tell lies
     and their lies are forgotten when mine is used against me years later

i must keep promises when others break theirs
     and they excuse it for themselves but will not allow me to do the same

i must say only nice things when others can hurt me
     and their crime must be ignored but mine will be written in stone

i must forget everything done to me when others are allowed to hold on
     and curse those who hurt them and tell me not to speak badly about others

i must be forgiving when others are allowed to seek revenge against me
     and they seek me out to hurt me even though I never wronged them

i must be strong while others are allowed to fall apart
     and people rush to their rescue but tell me to just hang in there

and sometimes these expectations bother me and i wonder
     do they place them on me
     or do i place them on myself?

and then i reread this list of expectations
and something in me changes...


I accept the challenge they present,
and I smile knowing

     I am expected to be honest & keep promises
             because they know I have integrity.
     I am expected to forget and forgive
             because my life is too full of good to have room for hatred
     I am not rescued
             because I can be amazing on my own.

I am from

In my class, we wrote I am from poems today. This is mine-

I am from
     unicorns guarding me in my sleep
     dancing with pandas and Raggedy Ann
     flying to the moon in a cedar tree rocket ship
I am from
     red sand cracked like a broken mirror
     roads and hills covered in snow
     schools with doors that opened to the outdoors
I am from
     riding the fire truck down main street
     sock basketball on laundry day
     long drives to Idaho every summer

I am from
     blue and white stadium seats
     red and white running uniforms
     purple and white streamers in my window
I am from
     believing it would all work out
     respecting teachers and officers
     helping neighbors and anyone who called
I am from
     small towns where everyone knew me    
     classrooms where I was expected to succeed
     a home where I am very loved
     
    

:)

December, 2010

There were some great moments in December. I was a little baffled that things had gone from so bad to so good without me even realizing it was happening.

:)

Tornado

Hurricane

Spinning in the same circles

Over and over

Wondering

Analyzing

Repeating the same bad thoughts

Over and over

Sunrise

Rainbows

Bringing hope to all watchers

Again and again

Questions

Answers

Smiling with realizations

Again and again

To a stranger,

May 26, 2010
This is to Jeff, Pamela's husband. We were texting and emailing, trying to help each other through the situation we'd been thrown into. I don't really know him, but I knew how he felt.

As he explained something, I could finish his thought, because I had already thought the exact same thing.

As much as it helped me to have someone understand how I felt, it pained me to know that someone else was suffering as I suffered. And I couldn't fix it for him...

To a stranger,

I am forever linked to you,
though we have never met.
I don't even want to meet you.

I know what you want
I know what you deserve
I know how you feel

And I have never even seen your picture
Nor will I ever
And I don't even mind

We are linked forever now

I wish we weren't.
I wish we never shared this experience
because I wish this never happened. 

But it did.
And you are now a chapter of my life
A chapter I want to erase.

And because we are linked
I know, if you had a choice,
You'd erase the chapter with me too.

This Space Inside My Head

Sept. 15, 2009

This Space Inside My Head

I'm glad when I am distracted

by events in life

and people needing me

and the world's ordeals

It keeps the space in my head

occupied

for a moment

and it-

for a moment-

is not filled with myself

It's a relief when the space is filled

and not echoing the past

or questioning the future

or debating endlessy

I'm tired of the voices

rambling

the same thing

repeatedly-

the same thing-

that I didn't want to hear to begin with.

Dear Andy,

January 26, 2007

Dear Andy,

You are better than you think you are.

You care about people as deep as anyone,

      and you are not afraid to ask the difficult questions.

You don't judge them when they answer.

You love people unconditionally.

When people need to hear it, you tell them the hard truth.

You know what has to be done to make others feel better.

You give people a belief in themselves,

      and show others how wonderful they can be.

You are there when people need you,

      and have a way of opening up people's soul. 

You make people laugh,

      and you make them happier than they were

      before they talked to you. 

You really do care about people,

      and you are willing to understand them. 

No matter what, you don't quit on people. 

You don't purposely hurt people.

My only question about you-

     Why don't you see this in yourself?

I promise...

January 1, 2007
My new year's promise to myself...

I promise

I promise ...
to be happier than I was last year.
to return phone calls quicker than I usually do.
to be a better wife, teacher, sister, daughter, and friend.
to forgive.
to trust.
to stand up for myself when it is needed.
to kick ass when the situation calls for it.
to keep scum out of my life.
to not talk bad about the scum.
to limit my myspacing.
to do the laundry in trade for the floors.
I will show my appreciation more.
I will grade papers faster, and return them promptly.
Mostly, I promise...

I will do my best to improve myself. 

I will not change for you; 

I will change for myself.

 It is a new year...

Waiting...

The first few years of my marriage, I suffered from depression. It was caused by birth control, and I had a tendency to have an episode or two a year anyway. After realizing just how severe it was, I quit the birth control. Nine months later, I decided to try a different type of birth control. The doctor was hopeful; I was hopeful. But, I felt things start to go south again...

January 15, 2007
This is the third poem I had published.

Waiting...

Waiting....

for the happiness to melt away.

for me to forget it existed.

Waiting for tears to fall in the middle of the night,

and for no one to notice.

Knowing the anger will bubble over at some point,

but the strength will not be there to do anything about it.

Waiting until I attempt something-

Knowing I probably won't,

but I'll continuously think about it,

And hate myself for the lack of courage.

Waiting until I am completely alone,

Even when surrounded by dozens of people.

Waiting until I finally look in that mirror,

and hate the person I see looking back.

      It is coming.

      I feel it more everyday.

      The darkness that plagued me for years.

      It is coming back.

      Do I admit defeat?

      Will that make it go away?

      Or is just me,

      and I have no hope?

Why don't I have an answer?

Am I really angry,

with the right to be?

Or is it the darkness

blinding me from reason?

What if I stop,

and I am still angry?

I wait to find the answer.

But I am not patient.

I do not wait well.

Thank You

I wrote this when I realized I was a better person because of the pain other people had caused me.
October 18, 2006

Thank You
To those that laughed at me
--It made me kinder to others.

To those who doubted me.
--It helped me persist to success.

To those who called me stupid.
--You showed me how smart I can be.

To those who called me ugly.
--It revealed the beauty I really have.

To those that made me cry.
--You showed me how to love

To those that persisted in abusing me.
--It made me determined to beat you.

To those that betrayed me.
--You showed me I can forgive.

To those who tried to hurt me.
--You gave me faith that I will heal.

To those that used my innocence .
--It made me more aware

To the few that broke my heart.
--It made me grateful for those who didn't.

To everyone who wanted to keep me down.
I thank you.
Because of you, I know I have the strength to get back up.
Because of you... I always do.

Thank you-
JC, CS, SL, AW, MR, AJ, JW, AP, BP, SE, JL, RS, JJ, JI, SE, CJK
I am me because of you.

Words behind the Action

There were actions, and I didn't really know what they meant. I made this up in hope that it was the feeling behind things. I know now that I was wrong, and this was simply me wishing it was how it was, but I'm not hiding my stupidity from this blog. 

September 2, 2006   24 years old

Words Behind the Action
When you asked me to spend time with you,
I made other plans.
When you asked me to sit and talk with you,
I talked to everyone else.

When you asked me to ask if you're alright,
I never mentioned it again.
When you asked me to take you out that day,
I went out with my friend.

When you asked me to hold you till you fell asleep,
I stayed in the other room.
When you asked me to be faithful, for me to be true,
I promised, but I lied to you.

But now I'm done-
Being the one who lets you down.
I'm starting again-
Doing my best to live the life I've found.

When you asked me to bring flowers soon,
They were roses and I bought three.
When you asked me to not stay out too late,
Everyone left long after me.

When you asked me to give you time to think,
I knew I'd wait for you.
When you asked me to choose, and stay strong,
I did what I had to do.

When you were busy and things needed done,
I did what I could to help you.
When you asked me to try to show my love,
I promised, and I told the truth.

Because I'm done-
Being the one who lets you down.
I've started again-
Doing my best to live the life we've found.

Someday you'll ask me for something again,
Know I'll do what I can.
Someday you'll reach out for me again,
Know that I'll take your hand.

Someday, please need me to be strong for you,
I won't run away this time.
Someday, please ask me what you mean to me,
I'll say that I still want you as mine.

I can't stand-
the idea-
of again breaking your heart in two.
From this day on-
I will try-
to be the one who deserves to have someone like you.

Pain

In 2006, I was healing. I jumped into the process a little too quickly though, and let myself pretend to be happy before I'd actually grieved over everything. I never got rid of the pain that had been caused- I just pretended it didn't exist.

Months later, I felt the pain returning. I knew it was going to encompass me, and I didn't really know how to avoid it. I wasn't expecting it to show up like it did. I knew that I could overcome it- I had faith and hope in my future. But I also knew that I couldn't kill it for good alone, and I worried that I wouldn't be able to pull others into my army.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006     24 years old

Pain

It lurks in through the pores

through the eyes, through words.

                      Hiding in the shadows inside

                               It creeps beneath the muscles

                               and winds around the heart 

                                               Not striking, but waiting.

                                               Patient for the perfect moment.

                                      Dormant for weeks, months...

                                      Perfectly hidden by laughter

                                      Covered in layers of smiles

                        Just waiting to show itself.

                        Counting the moments before it comes out of the darkness

                                Before pouncing on the stomach with the weight of twenty anvils

                                and puncturing the heart with razor fangs.

Surprise is pains greatest ally.

So it waits.

                      You cannot hunt it down

                      It will only evade the capture,

                      and grow as you feed it with deception.

                                                   You cannot avoid it.

                                                   It grows faster with lies

                                                   and it will overtake if never faced.

          When it strikes, you must attack.

                  Swords drawn,

                         Flags flying,

                                Full army-

                                     attack.

            Or you will lose. And it will win.

                          Damage will be done,

                          but what is rebuilt will be a dream none thought possible.

                                                      

I do not fear the inevitable attack.

        I too wait, ready.

        I will attack.

             Head on.

             Full force.

In the end, my banner will fly.

                                                  My only fear is that I will fight alone.

                                          And I will have won a battle, not the war.

My Rock

The Rock
I once had a rock.
I washed away its dirt.
I polished it.
I put time, energy, and love into this rock.

This rock was my strength
and I built my house on it.

Someone came and stole my rock.

And my house fell apart.

I tried to fix my house,
and though I could live in it,
it was not the same.

I was told I was getting my rock back.
I ripped down some of my walls
to prepare to put the rock back
where I thought it belonged.

But then the plan was changed.

The thieves have started building their house on my rock.
And since my house is kind-of rebuilt,
there is no sense in giving me my rock back,
and wrecking their house,
even if it isn't finished,
and it was my rock first.

I do not understand
why thieves get the rock that I shaped and loved.

I do not understand
how I deserve to live with a shambled house.

I do not understand
how to rebuild, again, the walls I took down.

Mostly, I do not understand
how to live with the empty hole
where my rock used to be.

I saw us...

After everything that happened with Andy and me in 2006, we struggled to find ourselves together again. We walked on egg shells around each other. I didn't really know what to say to him a lot of the time. Thursday, August 10, 2006, there was a moment when it all changed.

age 24

I saw us...

I saw you today.

As you talked about your dream, I saw you-

when your eyes shined a little brighter,

when your smile came easily.

I saw me today.

As I passed the hall mirror, I saw me-

in my head that was held high,

in my confident gaze.

I heard you today.

As we said goodbye and I love, I heard you-

no longer trying to convince me it was real,

no longer not believing it yourself.

I heard myself today.

As I laughed at your silly comment, I hear me-

Not wondering if you meant it,

Not wondering if you wished it was someone else's laugh.

I saw us today.

As you told me a story in the car, and I rolled my eyes- I saw us.

We were talking without a mountain between us.

We were laughing as if we'd never hurt each other.

I saw us today.

Maybe only for a moment.

But you were there,

and I was there.

We were together again.

The us that existed before

You lost your way

And I lost my mind.

Maybe we'll find our way back.

We'll be rescued from the hell we drove ourselves into.

The rain will fall, and we can dance in it.

We'll watch the stars from the mountains again.

In the clouds, we can find elephants and baboons.

I saw us today.

I'm hoping to see us again.

I think I will.

I'm Just Me

Winter 2003, age 20

I was completely, madly, head-over for Andy. I also knew that I couldn't be with him completely yet. He kept asking when I'd marry him, and the only response I could offer at the time was, Someday.

I'm Just Me

You should be looking at the stars, not wasting time with me.

I'm grateful your heart saw something I am yet to see.

I can't promise you the world, but I would if it were mine to give.

But I promise to do the best that I can as long as I'm allowed to live.

I can't give you your dreams but I can wish you'll have your day.

I can wait behind them and I won't get in their way.

I can't give you all you want; your life is yours to make.

But if you need a hand I have one here only for you to take.

I can promise to be your buddy: to laugh with you through the day,

to try to make you smile even when I don't know what to say.

I can promise to be your best friend: to talk with you through the night,

to be there when you need me and to tell you everything will be alright.

If you want me to I'll love you; if you don't I will anyway.

I don't ever want this to be over so I'm asking, "Can I stay?"

One day I'll vow forever, right now I don't know when.

But I promise to be your buddy, your love and your best friend.

I offer you my hand; I give to you my heart. 

I know it's not close to the universe, but it's my small part.

Raided

After what ended up being an amazing summer full of stress and challenges, I was very proud of myself. This is also when I figured out the cause of my episodes of depression. They always came after challenging/stressful times- when life calmed completely down. It is like whatever chemical was released during my stressful periods, disappeared when it was over and left me in a state of depression until I got busy again.

Knowing the cause didn't make it any easier to live with. And it didn't let me stop it from happening again.

Fall 2002, age 20

Raided

The walls were up but they came down- all but a pile on the ground.

The guard grew bored and fell asleep- the gate was down, the kingdom weak.

People came in, people went out.

The strong walls were forgotten about.

When it happened, no one blinked an eye- no one noticed the enemy walk by.

They were few so they did little harm- they took only things held in one arm.

But news of the riches, the enemy spread.

They dared to cry, "The guards are dead!"

There was little time but a second chance- they'd repair the weak circumstance.

Quickly they rebuilt the walls up high- to never again let the enemy by.

They were built tall and rebuilt strong.

It was the best way to right the wrong.

Stopping only to pray they built them fast- but it was done well so they would last.

These walls were built best there was no doubt- no coming in, no going out.

The gates were locked, they key thrown away.

For the rest of their lives they'd live this way.

One may say, "It's drastic," one may ponder why- but never again will anyone cry.

Without such a defense the heart's a fragile thing- walls protect from what life may bring.

Better to die working while standing tall.

Sad to be overtaken for lack of just a wall.

So I'll work to keep the wall up high over the ground-

Never again broken or ever taken down.

I Said to Myself

In college, I suffered from months of depression. It hit me strong at the beginning of the summer, but a few weeks into it, I was tired of it. I launched a full fledged assault against my depression.

Summer 2002, age 20

I Said to Myself

So I says to Myself, "Self, you're looking a little blue."

                     Myself just says, "If you knew yourself, you'd be blue too."

So I says to Myself, "Self, stand up straight and tall."

                    Myself smirks and replies, "There's no point to it all."

So I says to Myself, "Self, suck it up or go away."

                    Myself folded her arms and said, "I'm here to stay."

Then Myself started crying, and complaining all the time.

Try as I did she just wouldn't stop that awful whine.

She whined of her looks, dumbness, or her hated fat.

I said, "Self- look in the mirror. You won't see none of that."

Again I asked Myself to be happy, and Myself was so confused.

I told Myself to get over it, but Myself absolutely refused.

So I says to Myself, "Self, it's time for you to go!"

                     Myself stood her ground and firmly told her no.

Then she started crying and it grew to a fit of rage.

So I went to the store and bought Myself a cage.

So when she fell asleep I threw her in and locked the door.

                    But it just made her cry and whine a whole lot more.

 I says to Myself, "Be happy and you can come out."

                    But Myself kept frowning and Myself started to shout.

I got sick of the whining and I went back to the store.

I bought all the supplies I should have bought before.

I bought large bricks and I bought cement by the pound.

Then I took it back to show Myself what I had found.

                    Myself yelled, "You're worthless!" and put up a noble fight. 

But I built Myself a wall- built it that very night.

So Myself is locked away, her whines I cannot hear.

She may dig her way out- That is my greatest fear.

But for now she's gone and I pretend she isn't real.

                    No one knows of Myself, and the things she feels.

Sometimes I think of her and I wonder what went wrong.

But then I ignore it, I know the wall is strong.

I've been told walls are bad and they should be torn down.

But this one must never be for they'd hate what they found.

So I'll keep my secret safe or at least for awhile.

And for me, I am happy and I always wear a smile.

The Joker

Summer 2001- a summer spent in love with the boy I couldn't have- the boy I had walked away from but refused to completely let me go. A summer I spent at a job that frustrated me and where I was actually at the bottom of the seniority list, somewhere I'd never been. A summer where I volunteered at a place where no one even knew my name.

I was feeling very under-appreciated. This was my poem trying to make myself feel special.

The Joker

She's the queen when you need royalty, 

A duce when you need her low.

Be proud when ever you have her:

The Joker will always show.

          No matter what cards are dealt,
          she will pull you through.
          Hold her in your hand a little longer:
          The joker is there for you.
                     Aces and Kings come along a lot,

                     Queens are found every day.

                     But she's special and fragile:

                     Joker's rarely come your way.

     She sets you straight when you're short,
     Is a full house when their gone.
     Pair her up with anything:
     The Joker pulls it all along.

When the lucky hand is delt your way,

Don't pretend that you don't care.

Don't take her for granted:

The Joker won't stay there.

               You can breath a little easier,
               Knowing she's on your side.
               She's strong enough you never fold:
               The Joker's on your side.
          When he sat down at the table

           To decide the rules of the game,

          He created a wild card:

           The Joker became the name.

                              At the table when you want to talk,
                               Fun like the heart of a child-
                               She'll be anything you want or need:
                               The Joker's always wild.

You can choose not to play her, but you'll lose in the end.

Don't forget the joker: the Joker's your best friend.

The Runner

The Runner

That drop is the resistance:

      It's hard to begin once you've stood still so long so the restraints must fall first.

The next drop is the clumsiness:

     It's tough to fall back into a stride though you never forget how to run.

Then the control drop falls:

     The monster unleashed and you push frantically up the hill before you.

With that, the pain drop explodes:

     The muscles can't ache or you'd never reach the top so tension is ignored.

Then the cloud drop goes: 

     The mind is clear to think and plan and nothing else exists for the runner.

Fate's Plan

This is the poem of me and Andy, and the crazy events that led us to each other. He dropped his checkbook in my yard, and when he came to pick it up my life changed. I knew immediately that he would not be a minor part of my life. We would be linked...

2001, age 18

Fate's Plan

Fate's twisted ways made it fall,

Though she wasn't noticed in the act.

It had to be returned and there was a simple call-

Nothing fancy; all a matter of fact.

Then minutes turned to hours that flew easily by.

Fate's snicker wasn't heard in the air.

There was talking and laughter and the didn't have to try,

and neither noticed Fate watching there.

Cupid joined the game and enjoyed so much;

He drew an arrow and neither felt it pierce the skin;

But longer grew the kisses, softer grew their touch;

And Cupid couldn't hold his smile in.

Pragma had little regard for the certain two,

and did his best to keep them far apart.

But Stoic knew this would never do,

and kindly joined them in the heart.

Out of Place

With my job in college, I got to spend a lot of time outside. I had so much time to just be in my own world thinking. One day I was sitting by the duck pond and I noticed this grass growing through the cement. It looked so strange there surrounded by gray. I felt a connection to it for some reason- as if I too lived in a place where I didn't quite belong.

April 12, 2001- age 18

Out of Place

Like the sole flower in the desert of brown and paleness

glowing bright with colors and making things 

appear out of place.

Living soft and sweet in a land marked by

sharpness and dryness makes it seem that

things are out of place.

Dying yearly and returning rarely on the old and stable

masters of the heat show that

things are out of place.

But that color lives because of the wetness of that

very master's veins that makes

things out of place.

So it is with green stems pouring through the 

gray squares of city sidewalks,

looking out of place.

It is colored and alive and growing through

a cracked, lifeless creation 

and looks out of place.

The leaf dies on its own and returns on its own unlike

the block that depends on man fixing it

where it's out of place.

But it has strength and protection and admiration

because it fights that concrete slab

even if it is out of place.

So it is with the person who has flare and passion and

fights to live true in a world where they are 

labeled out of place.

Trapped

May 26, 2001- written in my mind on the way to Idaho for Memorial Day. I knew it was time to take a break from Andy, but didn't quite know how to explain it. We broke up a few weeks later, June 16 to be exact. He wanted so many things in life that I couldn't give him at the time.

Trapped

I hate being someone that you need.

Never let me be someone you can't live without.

It's so plain to see I'm only an addiction.

And with those, eventually you'll have to get out.

Let me be the friend you want to walk beside,

I'd love to be the friend you want to come and cry to.

When your world's at its end, I want to be who you call.

And when you rise again, will I be who you talk to?

It's hard knowing I'm just the best choice you've found.

It's tough being simply better than the rest.

Don't you see? You're selling yourself out.

Though you've chosen me, you haven't chosen the best.

I want to be the one you think about each morning.

Be with the one who you want to really care.

When your work is done, who do you want waiting?

When  you're having fun, am I who you want there?

I know I don't need you but I still want you with me.

It's easy to be with out you but I wouldn't want it that way.

When I'm feeling blue, I want you to hold me.

Alone, I can make it through, but will you stay anyway?

Wishing

Wishing

Star light, star bright, granting wishes through the night;

Hear me now as I whisper, listen to my noble fight.

As you twinkle brightly, the perfect place in Heaven's sky;

Looking down on us below; seeing us laugh and seeing us cry.

Do you wink at us or is that flicker a head's shake?

What do you think of us and our often made mistake?

Wishing on a simple star that merely rests so far away,

Instead of simply bowing heads and taking the time to pray?

Do you laugh at our wishes? Those pleas you cannot give?

For simply gas and flame are you- you do not really live.

Why is it we talk to you, an object and nothing more?

But can't talk to Him though He's who we live for?

Star light, star bright, hearing wishes through the night;

Pass them on to God for us, till we each know His true light.

May 22, 2001  age 18

Generation Y

I was deeply involved in an anti-violence program all through college. I struggled to understand how people my age could be so cruel to others, after hearing all the stories. Everyone had such a bleak view of us at the time, and it wasn't the whole picture of what we could be.

Many of my friends chose various paths once they left home. Some of them set out to change the world, and some of them set out to find themselves. Some of them were safe, and some of them risked losing everything. It was a scary time...

Generation Y

The addict steals and cheats for one more hit of dope.

Living destitute on the streets with nothing left of hope.

Drifting lower everyday, becoming a larger mess.

Knowing it has to go away but not needing it any less.

Dinge stains the fallen walls and ash disguise the floor.

So close he stands to leaving it all, with blood no longer pure.

The lover creeps alone inside and lives in night's shadow.

The rules insist she must hide and keep the depth shallow.

Always asking in her mind if the love is real perfection

But living scared of what she'd find if she dared to ask the question.

To breath with hope she'll feel his hand and the act will make her whole.

But on guilt's ledge she'll stand to plead mercy on her soul.

The drinker lifts his glass well into the night.

Losing memories so painful of times gone not right.

Trying to erase the fear and cover all the shame.

Babbling and crying and playing another game.

He leaves and speeds too fast and his car starts to swerve.

He takes on last drink before rounding his final curve.

The loner held the corner in rooms filled with hate.

Tortured daily without cause and help's found too late.

When finally he's had enough and brings inside a gun

He takes his anger out and they fall one by one.

The last sound in his ears is another firery blast.

He'll take his final aim and become part of the past.

The thin watches intently at the newest beauty queen.

Skipping another meal on the way to her dream.

Praying to the porcelain but smiling for the crowd.

Trying for perfect and to make everyone so proud.

Late at night she lies awake and alone she weaps.

The pills though, too strong, and forever now, she sleeps.

The leader stays late to make the grade before going home.

Practicing talents for hours when finding time alone.

Helping out on Saturday with children down the street.

Walking local strays, giving hungry food to eat.

Laughing at the trials life seems to throw her way.

She takes another stride ahead and takes another day.

So many paths available for each of them today.

Choices come from everywhere as they try to make a way.

They grow and fall and rise again and laugh and they cry.

So many forks they have marking them Generation Y.

Ours Was Innocent

This was written for Jarod, as a way of explaining the relationship that we had to others. It was a friendship that so many people questioned, and yet it was simply a friendship- a best friendship.

Ours was Innocent

Late at night we'd watch movies and I wasn't afraid to be close to him: A cat curled in his lap or a dog at feet because the closeness was innocent.

Ours was innocent.

We left, talking alone in empty houses but no one questioned motives: 

Even our parents of proper rule let us be knowing the time was innocent.

Ours was innocent.

Among others we might have sinned or tempted Fates to cut our golden threads; but our moonlit walks and goodbyes weren't tense or unsafe but simply innocent.

Ours was innocent.

Our bond so strong broken only by another's ball and chain catching us; which is must or we're alone except for each others' and that love was innocent.

Ours was innocent.

After death cools us and they write our books we'll be left out of each other's: History writes of scandal and deceit but our headline reads nothing but innocent.

Ours was innocent.

If once we trespass to Guilt's Land it will be silently and unnoticed: Knowing eyes cannot stare, hearts cannot jump, lungs may breath only of innocence.

Ours must always be innocent.

RIP JJ

Going Home

February 19, 2001   Written at 3:45 am, somewhere on I-15, between Salt Lake City and Davis County.

Going Home

 When you're driving home at night and you're feeling all along.

        What do you say to yourself? What comes to your mind?

                What do you talk about when you're driving home at night?

When the tears won't come but you're crying inside.

         How do you comfort yourself? Where does the emotion go?

                 What makes it all right when the tears won't come?

When the phone doesn't ring, but you want to talk it out,

         Who do you listen to? How do you calm your fears?

                 How do you work it out when the phone doesn't ring?

If the rain's pouring down and you're shivering with cold,

        How do you warm your heart? How can you avoid the storm?

                What keeps you tracking on when the rain's pouring down?

The Circus

These are my friends... the ones who were part of my crazy life. For so long in school I had juggled so many things, and often felt that I was doing it a lone. But then, I found these amazing friends who just added so much to my life. When I went to college I felt like I could conquer the world.

Friends... do you see yourself?

The Circus

The tent once again was set.

Fans faces perch in shadow.

At center ring I stand in the spotlight's constant glow.

I juggle for the first act, and wear the bright red nose.

I smile on the white horse and fight the lion's deadly blows.

Applause are heard at distant.

My check is securely sealed. 

And once more it is lonely until the other acts, revealed.

One had courage to swallow fire. His royal charm could flow.

But when he tried to still my heart I had to let him go.

Then, the boy wanderer, who lived on the trapeze:

He flipped and he flew and we left reality with ease.

With the strength of 20 ox the runner won each race.

When I needed simple truth I searched for his face.

Then, the city clown, so funny, with the same face each day.

Though life was a tornado he was constant, every day.

Another took me under him and back the lions fell.

Bravely, fighting for his heart,

To him, secrets I would tell.

She was glamour and beauty and she could draw a crowd.

Our heroines: each other. Each of us so proud.

The magician was the master.

The unknown he'd reveal.

Suddenly he's inside all, and I've learned to feel.

Many others came and went; each with a new flare, a touch.

No show was a repeat.

We all gained so much.

After the diplomas spread and all lives moved along:

We'd still shared the big top, friendships remained strong.

And, as the strangest part, the lost faces now were found.

Each cheered with the other-

Not so distant that sound.

Now the next tent is set with fans anxious in shadow.

And again I stand center ring,

Awaiting the spotlight glow.

Goodnight

While Andy and I were dating, we lived almost an hour apart. The best and worst part of the each night was the moment when we had to say goodbye. It was always late at night. One night, in that moment, I fell in love as he kissed me goodbye. I wrote this in my head as I drove home.

This is also the first poem I ever had published. 

February 8, 2001   1:35 am   age 18

Goodnight

There exists no time.

Sphere's froze in westward paths held Sun at horizon.

Life's without pulse as long hands cease to click again.

There exists no time. 

Passion is forever.

Burless Fires rage wild though Lightning strikes never die.

Shock pulses to Earth's end, working hypnotic Sky.

Passion is forever.

Two melted into One.

Singers of Words embrace; feelers of Warmth caress;

Shared breath between two beasts loved, both, harsh tenderness.

Two melted into One.

Silence scream out loud.

Star smiles at his secret; Wind whispers of her view;

Night's Guard nods approval; eyes cry a sweet adieu.

Silence screams out loud.

Moments are eternal.

This one not set unique, or the first or the last.

Nor gracious tone implied, nor marking great days past.

Moments are eternal.

Dear Mom and Dad

After living under the roof of a crazy man for a little over a month, and having a job working with kids in foster care, I realized just how amazing my parents were.

Dear Mom and Dad

Thanks for showing me mountains and lakes and for having

animals that don't attack me.Thank you for living where 

there are familiar faces and teachers know my name.

 Thanks for living where it's safe outside and you can see stars 

at night. I'm glad you knew my different moods and didn't expect

me to be the same.

I loved the notes in the morning and the messages on the phone.

Thanks for asking how I was and for knowing when not to pry.

Thanks for letting me laugh and ramble about nothing without 

interrupting me. Thank you for the smiles and for knowing

enough to not ask why.

I appreciate when you left the room because I looked like I was

working. I appreciate every time you offered dinner, even when

I was running out the door.

Thank you for not knocking and apologizing every time you came

in to talk. It was good to know where I could sit and where I 

could throw things on the floor.

Thank you for never letting dinner be silent, and for letting

the mail pile up. Thanks for believing in my strength and for

knowing I'd get the job done.

Thank you for teasing my mistakes and for letting my act goofy.

I appreciate how you left it to me to decide my work and my fun.

Thanks for not swearing around me and for telling me how I look

I appreciate the hugs and how I could kiss your cheek goodnight.

Thanks for saying bless you and for asking if I was sick.

Thanks for your faith that I'd be home and for leaving on the

porch light.

B-

I had a friend that was constantly frustrated because things didn't work out for him. He was judged by a lot of people. At the same time, he didn't actually do anything to prove them wrong. He tried for a day or two, but then moped and complained when it didn't change how everyone treated him. 


It was frustrating to try to help him when his change would only last a day or two.

September 26, 2000  age 18

B-

You have said you're sorry-

but nothing has changed.

The lying goes on, the drinks, the same fun loving stage.

There is a bond of trust, 

and it was broken pretty bad.

Is it worth the time to fix with all the pain it's had?

To really earn forgiveness  you must change the old way.

And prove that you'll stick to it-

and deserve a chance today.

Yes they doubt your words-

dedication isn't your best strength.

so prove them wrong each day-

Go to the greatest length.

And the evidence must be real, so follow everything through.

Apologize to yourself for wrongs, and make sure to forgive you.

Take a chance on yourself.

That belief will surely be seen.

And others will know you're serious,

and wipe the record clean.

Amazing

This is my poem about the first few months of college.
September 26, 2000   age 18

Amazing

Amazing is the future.

             Bright is the day ahead.

     Only I know all it holds... so it must not be said.

Hope and strength and laughter

                              As far as I can see.

        And beauty and friendship?   All held inside of me.

                        I know everything inside me.

Though it's not exactly clear.

             My potential is great.            I have a purpose here.

      My energy is building, caring grows in my each day.

                     I have the strength to change things.

The will to lead the way.

                                          A smile crosses my face.

                                                   As I think of all I'll do.

When I finally set the plan.

and expertly see it through.

              As of now I am looking...

                      the moment must be right.

And I'll attack the issue.     

I'll give the hate a fight.

                     

                                            I can feel the power in me.

                                                          I'll set the other hearts ablazin'.

            I may not show it now.

But, someday, I'll be amazing. 

Peace

I moved out in August of 2000, and this is the poem I wrote as I waited for college to start. I was so happy to be starting this new adventure.

August 24, 2000  age 18

Peace

At night I see the darkness but I know only the light,

the peace, the calm, the simpleness, the good, the strong, the right.

And though I sit by myself I feel I'm not alone-

With God, family, friends, and with memories of home.

His voice has never declared it but I still know about his car,

his love for me, his admiration, I constantly feel it's there.

Though I rarely see and tough her the bond we have is tight,

shared with our eyes, our smile, and willing to withstand the fight.

I can't speak of the way I feel but yet my heart is heard

through actions, gifts, kindness- never through spoken word.

I don't know how I know but my thoughts are at rst.

I feel peace, content, and beauty and know love's at its best.

So in the darkness of night I feel a soul's release.

Wind picks up hurt and fear and souls find silent peace.

The Face in the Mirror

As I was facing leaving home, I started to realize all the trouble I'd caused as a teenager. I was not impressed with myself, and more than that- I felt guilty for all of it. I did a lot of soul searching that summer, trying to figure out how to be a better person before I left and after.

The Face in the Mirror

I look at myself- I don't like what I see.

I don't like the smile, for it shows the real me.

In my smile I see deception and coverings of my fear.

It draws in more people- brings more victims near.

I want to scream for them to go- to stay away from me.

But they will laugh and come- my truth they never see.

If only I could never smile- they'd stay far away.

So I hate the grin I wear- and smile one less today.

For today I hurt someone and I don't like causing pain.

Without a thought before- I've done it once again.

Then, I don't deserve the smiles for then smiles are returned.

I don't deserve the joy for all the hearts I've burned.

My eyes let others see- I'm angered hurt and sad.

And then I get their sympathy and that is very bad.

For I deserve the guilt I guess, and having smiles fade.

Why do they still care? Still rush to my aide?

For I know I should be punished and called a disgrace.

But no one else sees the truth looking at my face.

Yet, as I list he bad I am and try hard to hate me-

I hear a voice cry don't give up and goodness I still see.

I still hear the thanks and see the eyes feel with tears.

I still feel the growing smiles as I comforted their fears.

I can't decide on the hardest thing I could choose.

Who is right or wrong- do I win or lose?

One calls me awful and I've hurt her to the bone.

Yet so many times I've held them so they weren't alone.

I don't deserve forgiveness, but I don't deserve the flame.

It's an endless battle with myself- this tiring Gemini game.

One cheek is so good and can smile at the face.

One cheek burns with tears and turns as a disgrace.

So I'll just stare at the mirror and forever never know-

Which face is really mine, and does the truth show?

They Don't Like Me

This poem risks hurting people, so be careful reading it. I realize now that how I felt then was crazy, but I was 18 at the time. I was caught between being a child and being on my own in the world. I was still living at home, but was a graduated, legal adult who would be leaving home in two months. I didn't know where I fit in at home anymore. I didn't know what was expected of me. June 2000.  

They Don't Like Me

They don't like me, but don't they love what I do?

The trophies, awards, grades and offices I bring home?

They cheer at all my events and cheer for the win.

But I might as well be there alone.

I'm on stage, faking a smile, shaking out of fear.

And they yell and clap and their camera's flash.

The looks that say hold on, come from somewhere else-

From people they consider to be trash.

But those are the looks that keep my going.

They keep the smile on my face.

I love all the lectures they give me-

But that doesn't help me win the race.

I can be president, mayor, captain and much more-

My grades can be a perfect four-point-o g.p.a.

But I'm still a lying sack of shit and lazy-

A hoe, a slut, and a bitch they say.

Then the relatives are told how I make them proud.

How I go here and there... always on the go.

And when others tell them I'm so good, it's smiles.

But then I forget the dishes and I'm again a hoe.

So maybe I'm not so good, that I will admit.

But better leaders, I know very few.

So I guess I'll live with respect not love...

Cuz they dont' like me, but love the things I do.

Calling You Out

May 2000, age 17

Calling You Out

Stop the shouting and the names.

Step aside, this ain't your fight.

It's time to battle one on one.

I'm calling you out tonight.

Tonight's the night I say enough.

And you get to lay the law.

I'll lose, but I'll be respected.

So I'll take the draw.

The time is now to step out.

No one needs to follow.

Just you versus me, alone.

This ain't no ticket show.

The anger's burned way too long.

The first still grows hot.

It's time to settle it for once.

You, I'm sorry, have been caught.

I know you won't punch me.

So let the cruel words fly.

It's hard to make the challenge.

But I'll sure as heck try.

Someday

April 7 (again), 2000    4 am in the morning.  Age 17

Someday

Someday, life will be easy and the air will always have in it the

taste of warm rain.

And no one will hurt or cry, and anger will disappear along with 

any pain.

And we'll have smiles on our faces, springs in our steps, and

constant twinkles in our eyes.

And there will be no depth, no friendship, false truth, false hope and

a lot of lies.

Without failure, there's no true success, without troubled times

there's no test of caring.

Without anger and fear there is no human. Without tears there is 

no sharing.

When 'someday' comes, there are rainbows, but a rainbow isn't

real.

There are surface colors but we'd lose everything we feel.

Maybe the pain would stop and no one would hurt and tears

wouldn't ever be.

But, then also goes the happiness, the tears of joy, and the smiles

that always set us free.

There go children laughing, couple's loving, and the birds and

flowers and song.

Everything goes together, in our hearts and with every right there is 

a little wrong.

'Someday' please don't come because I want my sould and don't

want you to destroy.

I'll take the hurt and fear and pain if it means all the laughter, love 

and joy.

April 7... I Challenge You

I realized my freshman year that April 7th was a cursed day for me. Over the history of my life (even at that time) April 7th owned a few breakups, a few fights, a broken wrist, being assaulted, and a few other things. It was always a bad day that warranted a long journal write or a poem. (Two in this blog already!)

By my senior year, I was scared of the day, but I also realized I had the power to change that. It would be years late before the curse would actually be lifted, but this was the last year that I stayed home and did nothing, just to avoid it.

April 7, 2000- 12th grade- age 17

April 7... I Challenge You

The curse of the day... April 7th. With your tears and rage and sweat... April 7th.

Who cursed this day of blood?

And made salt rivers flow?

What made this day ugle?

Will I ever know?

From pain to anger to fear... April 7th. With screams and shouts and hurt... April 7th.

Why do you haunt me?

Why dim the spring sun?

Coming quick and leaving scars?

Taking away the fun?

But I challenge you... April 7th. I stand and head the call... April 7th.

I will not break down.

I will not stop and cry.

You are a day like all.

You will just pass by.

Nothing makes you special... April 7th.Not double luck, no curse... April 7th

I'm standing against you.

Ignoring the 'evil' name.

I won't blink an eye.

I'll treat you just the same.

March, June, May... like you... April 7th. 2, 12, 9... like you...April 7th.

You don't give right to hurt.

Anger won't win today.

My courage is stronger than fear.

April 7th GET OUT OF MY WAY!

Happiness

This was written after I realized that having fun was totally ok, and that it was ok for me to let go a little bit. In this poem is moments with many of my friends, as I started to enjoy all the few little moments that I had left with them.

February 2000, 12th grade, age 17.

Happiness

To laugh for no reason is crazy, to talk for hours isn't done.

Smiling is questionable and rules don't allow for fun.

Pure freedom isn't allowed. Natural living is dead.

Innocence is denial... there are mouth's that don't get fed.

Dancing in the rain's absurd; crawling's a childish thing.

Fears are only fiction. Set goals replace dreams.

Stars aren't to be wished on. Birds don't sing.

Fears are only fiction. Set goals replace dreams.

Stars aren't to be wished upon. Nothing's what it seems.

Why all the structure? The rules that say no?

Why bother being serious? The always on the go?

To dress like a pirate- to jump from a swing-

To sled instead of ski- to go outside and sing-

What's wrong with hold to a child's view?

Where happiness and smiles completely surround you?