Monday, May 30, 2011


the tides change quickly here. so do other things.

last week i held you as if you were the lifeboat that had been thrown from my sinking ship. i thought you could make it all better.

this week i realise that i am actually the captain, navigating through choppy waters. i stand in the crows nest and look out at miles of grey sky reflected in an equally grey sea. the stars will show me where to go. the sea gods will stop me from sinking.

the sea wind blows my memories of you away. i rip the photos up into little pieces and let the wind take those too.

i fall out of love.


Wednesday, May 25, 2011


when i turned 18 you gave me a plant. a yukka in a big blue ceramic pot. it lives outside the kitchen door even now.

this year it withers and dries up. i forget to take care of it. mother looks at it and says, "do you want to let it die?"

i say i don't care, but when she isn't looking i water it and fertilize it and plant my wishes among its roots.

i try to make it come back to life...

Saturday, May 14, 2011

tidal wave

sitting in church i can feel it coming. the darkness that is. it ebbs and flows. it crashes over me last saturday night - i watch 3 movies and stay up until 2 in the morning. i can't sleep because of crying too much. over the next few days i cry so much my whole body hurts. amanda worries over my red eyes and puffy face. i pass it off as allergies. she believes me.

then as suddenly as the darkness came, it leaves again. i feel like a baby, newborn, blinking in the bright sunlight of the new world.

now i can feel the tsunami building again. building. building. building. it will crash later today.

i wish i could stop it.

now sitting here in church i miss you. i want you so much i hurt all over. just one glimpse. maybe you could break the spell.

if only i was brave enough to ask you to try.