LIFEGOESON.

... And then there was Two and a broken heart.

Give a little love MY ass.

-M

It takes two.

Having someone to share music with, to muse on memories and dance around like a drunken Unicorn* can make for a happy heart and a peaceful existence. 

I love having a best friend who is not only an excellent listener and writer...but can jump on the wavelength at the speed I am traveling and  that makes me feel not so alone.

I love having a best friend that I am proud to call my best friend. 

Love you love.

-M

sick.

I look at this photo and think two things.

I want to look that cute straddling a fence and I want to pop the hell out of those balloons. 

"Blue skies are coming but I know that it's hard," - Noah and the Whale.

Here it is folks, the wedding week. Sheesh.

Who knew time was on the enemy side. I guess my body senses it as well, because ironically, I am sick.

My nose feels as stuffed as a turkey on thanksgiving day, and I hate stuffing. 

I wish I could reverse time, and travel back into time when I was little.

I would tell myself that life will be hard, so face every pain when it comes so it doesn't build up into walls that I have to lie to climb over.

It's agonizing, it's old and I am backpedaling in circles because I am afraid to take another route.

4 years later here is 19 years of hurt on top of 4 years of problems that my heart never even touched.

You can process pain for years but if you don't connect it to your heart, your picking up papers that have already been graded. I stare at myself and demand freedom, but thats not enough.

My mom desperately and persistently cried out to you for healing, for peace, you gave her 4 years of embarrassingly painful cancer and then healing in the form of death. How bright must my light be for you to see my tears while I attend church full of loss and pain?

 But I still go, that counts for something, right? 

My ways are not your ways,

Thats for sure.

I have to backpedal to start pedaling and that is a tiring thing.

-M

Undependable. Part Deux.

My flesh makes its appearance while my soul stands still.
I can't pretend that this isn't dragging my heart openly through the streets of Goodwill.
Fire hydrants explode as I pass by to cool off my hott-headed reply's, well the reply's I wanna say, I crave to say but the intelligence my mom put in me curses at me to stop so I do.
A loss to someone may seam like a typical occurrence while to another makes the world darken and their eyes to pounce around condensation that the heart creates to heal.
Mine is more of a gray area with a half glass feel.


I couldn't change more if you turned me black and into a man, but you know what they say, " once you go black, you never go back," So I stick with my ever-so -evolving life maybe adding a tattoo here or there to the change or distract from the fact that even though I feel like a fifteen-year old girl, I am indeed nineteen and clean. What if life felt effortless? That trust came as easily as a 40-year-old to a striper HA. But really, I guess people would find it boring, there would be no gossip columns or page sixes, only pure happy, sappy news...GROSS. Fine slay me night and day but know that life can't be this heavy so I become undependable, well, my emotions do because it can't decide the weight it wants to carry.

8 days in counting.

-M

Dependable.

I lay in bed to fill my mind with things that my eyes cannot unwind, 

To walk across seas not yet discovered and jump through beams of hurt and contras.

I have learned the steps to make a mess and have high-fived the feelings of worthlessness.

My mind selects the skinny steps so when I fall I know it was my choice, my choice to expect the fall not his or hers or them.

My arms wrap the ideas of a healthy life in seaweed and sweat them off like a billion beads.

I lie to fill the gap of trust between the two hearts, which mounts the divider of rawness because my heart is too raw already.

I need you.

But I don't want you.

Will you consume me, because I won't make the first step, 

because I am not dependable. 

-M

Window.

We fear the unknown because not being in control of our futures makes us fear.

We fear death even though it is one of the only things "us" as humans have in common, but it is permanent for some, so it's hard to swallow.

We fear heartache, even though the end result makes for a better song lyric, or maybe a better relationship because you have to test the waters before you jump in. 

Fear lingers outside hospitals rooms and jumps outside of windows, while skipping along alley ways and lurking inside office doors.

It has many names with many DNA's and never gets invited to a party, it sometimes saves peoples hearts while securing regrets in others but it can never seize first without the carriers consent.

It is on our TV screens, radios, and in mailboxes driving around us like a rush hour on a friday. 

I wish fear and I had never met and I wish it would stop harassing my heart. 

-M

Capsule.

I wish I could capsulize my feelings enough to express the amount of loss I feel in myself on a daily basis, but it seems it comes out more like a hot spring more than anything else.

I am capsized from the feeling of life, but maybe that's what I need.

-M

Hair.

Like the moon its sits on you and sways like the sea on a late evening.

-M

Filtration.

As I stare at the aisles of believers all singing in unison to the praises of God, with anticipation in their hearts and heaviness in their eyes, I begin to surrender.

I surrender emotionally.

Physically.

But mostly, spiritually.

I can beat myself up and listen to the enemy routinely, but when it comes to loving myself and listening to God, you might as well pull up a chair and grab a magazine.

I need to listen to the truth and filter out the lies.

I need to stop focusing on the hurt people do and start seeing the love they do.

I need to let go of past deception and see a fresh plate.

And I need to not forget that relying on humans for happiness is about as useless as a fruit basket. 

-M

Unscripted.

Realizing that my loneliness comes from the lack of accepting the strength in myself, is like trying to bungee jump of a cliff and having the thought of death not swift through your mind. 

I am not comfortable with being alone, but I crave my loneliness more than a new pair of gladiators. 

Should I stop contemplating the outcome and start focusing on the present? 

I write off anyone who wants to love me.

Its starting to pollute more than just my heart.

-M

Thundertoot.

I went to this non-profit creative arts venue last night in DT atlanta called Wonderroot for an open mic in the hopes of making my spoken word debut, however there was words spoken, but not the ones I had in mind.

No entrance fee, which my gal-pal Lucy and I quickly realized the reasoning behind that as soon as the performers took the mat.

Ha, I wish I could teleport you ( the reader) back in time to the scenario, because no adjective could express the pure nature of the venue and its inhabitants, which seems to be kind natured.

However I can tell you this, If you have ever watched american idol auditions and seen the obscurity that makes it's way to our TV tubes then you have an inkling of the majority of performers. 

All you need is a little weed and some lack of showering and you pretty much got the full effect, easily. 

But it wasn't the intense stench or the short-falling of talent that caught my ears, eyes, or nose.

It was the committed performers and the boosterish audience that scraped my insides to the point of questioning my own opinions. 

The community they have at wonderroot is nothing I have really ever seen. 

They support each other rigorously and loudly despite the lack of substance in the performance or the impact it had. 

It was safe for performers and people alike to come and share a piece of their light weight minds and heavy hearts. The majority of the people that spoke, sang or played were not there for the claps or praise, but for the acceptance and fellowship from the community there.  

And the community willingly gave it, and gave it and gave it...etc. HA!

Once my mind got back on track and arrived at a station, I started scanning the room.

Staring at the misfits and schmucks pacing around, some mumbling the lyrics and bobbing their heads, others off in their mind-made universe.

The realization of happiness that came from all the eclectic, yet identical, beings in this basement room froze the very core of my processing and began to redefine itself within this atmosphere.

Besides the drugs, What if happiness doesn't originate with choice but with the identification of ourselves   to trust our circumstances? 

Unfortunately, I know the answer to this, but I couldn't help letting it pull a chair up next to my spiritual logic. 

I felt as though these cracked up, slightly homeless hippies had satisfaction and true happiness and I didn't ( don't). 

I can swirl myself in circles trying to under-analyze, overanalyze or just accept; but the truth is maybe I need to stray away from the norm and figure out the labels myself. 

-M

I see England, I see France, I decided... I need new Pants!

So, tragically, on a sunday summer evening, my favorite black skinny ankle hugging jeans went Kaputs. 

They served me well on many of my co co loco runs and late evening concert bashes, but all good things must come to an end.

You must be wondering why I just wasted 42 words on a pair of urban skinny jeans, Well because its ironic, thats why damnit.

I am on this new medication. The kind where it has 36 different side-affects and you must check in with your psychiatrist regularly to secure your safety. 

It doesn't make me happy but it brings me back to zero, rather than negative five so I can start functioning the way a normal nine-teen year old should be, or so I think they should.

It is my fourth day on it and I feel a difference. I feel like the darkness doesn't feel so dark and that my heaviness feels more like styrofoam instead of bricks.  

Sure there is much more than just a pop of a pill that needs to addressed, but now I can see through clearer eyes while I am driving to that road and I am okay with that.

 So as I am bidding adieu to my leg slimming, butt hugging, black hipster pants I can say "bonjour" to a more processed, revived and cheeky pair of some faded aqua skinnies. 

Cheers to new trousers, ( clink).

-M

Summer Haze.

She fly's back and forth,

like a million different bees,

and the sweetness that she produces isn't the key.

His love that springs up,

 has caught a leak, and formed a clot,

and now can't seem to please,

not even her cold heart.

She watermarks his heart with unwilling ease,

and catches his beats like a stethoscope flea.

His breaking point has no limit on it,

so he tracks behind her,

 hoping the aroma of his words would spread on her,

 like some ivy to a tree.

She nods her head in recognition of his efforts,

but she knows this muscle and the memory it holds,

and yearns for nothing like him.

So they prance around these shaky waters

aiming to exist, 

while keeping one eye closed and the other on the water,

one will sink and one will swim.

-M