Friday, September 20, 2013


I spent the first half of my life as a dreamer.
I went on adventures with the wind
and floated on the buds of a dandelion,
wandering aimlessly with the wishes of others.
Once I was late to school because I got lost
with the hope of a father coming home.
He never did.

I got too close to the sun when I hitched a ride on a bluebird.
I told him not so high but he didn't listen.
So I spent a few days on the ground under a tree.
I saw two lovers carve their initials into her bark.
She wept for days.
Those scars will never fade but the feelings behind them will.

I had the freedom to dance with the stars
and sleep in the curve of a waning moon.
But when it grew rounder,
I slide off its fullness
and fell into the ground.

The clouds tickled me whenever I went through them.
And then they disappeared on adventures of their own.
They never invited me to join
so I kept on moving too.

I twisted with swirls of smoke,
intoxicated with the beauty
of death escaping from a burning cigarette.

I dug myself into the soil,
pulled the dandelion bud down with me.

We sprouted up to the sky, reborn.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Realization #1

I miss the idea of you but I don’t miss the things I held in.
Like the happiness that was kept down
low because you were having a bad day?
I never told you but I felt guilty if I wasn't battling my depression
while sitting there watching you with yours.
But I do miss the smiles and laughter
even if they were forced because you have such a great smile.
What I don't miss is how you never believed me
when I told you that or when I said that you were beautiful.
And that I loved you which I didn't say often because you
stopped saying it back to me.

I don't miss laying in bed next to you, wanting to touch you
but keeping to myself because I was afraid you'd reject me.
Why was it that you needed to have a drink in order to touch me?
Because that's something I don't miss either.
I don't miss all the apologies I had to say
even though they were needed.
But I was always apologizing for the wrong things.
I lied and kept things in my pocket with loose change
and kept shoving them down

That wasn't right. You deserved better.

I mostly lied about who I was because I knew you
wouldn’t like who I really am.
And because I loved the way I thought you loved me.
Or the me I pretended to be.
And that wasn’t right either.
We weren’t right.
I lied about that too.
The truth is that we should’ve been a moment.
Drunk, caught in the rain.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

My Haven

I stood at the edge of the beach where the water meets the sand and creates an in-between; neither in nor out, coming nor going, ocean nor beach. And that's where I was. Slowly sinking into the earth, becoming a fixture swaying with the breeze. Drawing the positive energy in, deep down, and exhaling the negative out. Soon the sounds of children began to fade away and I was left with the symphony of waves being vulnerable and breaking into the arms of the sand. The smell of salt danced away from the chaos and found refuge with me, in my nose and on my skin so you could taste it later.

I could feel your hands on me. Your fingers working with the breeze to tease me, goosebumps erupting on my skin. I could feel your lips on me where my neck and shoulder meet: the in-between. And I almost dropped to my knees into an incoming (or outgoing) wave. But you held me up, kept me standing yet causing me to melt. I felt your lips part next to my ear, your voice whispering, "my are beautiful. You are strong. And you are unconditionally loved."

Slowly, I brought myself back. The noises of children grew louder and the chill of the waves hit my legs with conviction. I opened my eyes and stared out to sea, drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and nodded my head. can be beautiful. And I am okay.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Happy birthday Sylvia Plath!

Today would've been Sylvia Plath's 80th birthday had she not killed herself on February 11, 1963 (just 24 years prior to my birth on that day). So I am sharing one of my favorite pieces of hers "Mad Girl's Love Song."

Mad Girl's Love Song

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

Friday, August 10, 2012

THURSDAY - a flash fiction challenge

Thursday was out to get me. I don’t remember his name, but that’s what I called him, “Thursday.” He stood about 6’3” with salt and pepper hair, icy blue eyes and strong hands. That’s what got my attention, his hands. I went to grab my soy latte and he went to grab a straw but knocked into my arm. And there went my drink.

“Aw jesus motherf----”

“Sorry ma’am. Let me get some napkins.” His voice was strong and smooth, exactly like his hands. I was about to contest the “ma’am” bit but he flashed an apologetic smile.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I grabbed some napkins to pat my pants dry. When I looked up he was staring at me, his head cocked slightly.

“Can I get you another one? It’s the least I could do.” He must’ve been from out of town because no one is that nice in New York City. And he had an accent. I couldn’t quite place it, but there was definitely one there.

“Thanks, but I’m late as it is. I’ll just grab some crappy office coffee.” I went to pick up my bag but his hand beat me to it. My hand grazed his and the blood rushed to my face. I tried to hide it from him but I know he saw because a low chuckle escaped his throat.

“Then can I take you out to lunch? I feel like I owe you something. Here, take my card and call me when you get a chance.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet then slid his card out with ease. Smooth. And handed it to me. I didn’t even look at it before shoving it into the front pouch of my bag.

“Sure. Sounds great. I love food,” I said hurriedly, turning towards the door.

“Until then Sage,” he said.

I was almost out the door when he said my name; a chill ran down my spine as I turned back. He pointed at my name in bold letters, written on my now empty cup. I let out a giant breath and turned back out the door. I could hear him laughing over the noise of traffic and people.

* * *

My morning at work was crazy. I had an author flying in from East Bumblefuck Ohio and I had to make sure everything was perfect because he was one of those temperamental artistic types. I didn’t get a chance to breathe until well after lunch time. It was around 4:30 that I went into my bag to grab a stick of gum when I pulled out Thursday’s card.

“Crap,” I said under my breath.

“What’s wrong Sage?” my assistant, Kate, was standing in the doorway to my office.

“Nothing important. I met a guy this morning and I was supposed to call him for lunch.”

“Call him now. Go out for dinner and have some fun! Mr. Dylan is all settled at his hotel and if he needs anything else, I’ll take care of it.” She pushed my cell phone closer to me, coaxing me. I grabbed it from under her hand and she giggled with excitement then walked back out the door after dropping some papers on my desk.

The phone rang twice before he picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Sage. We met this morning at the coffee shop. I was supposed to call you for lunch but I had a hectic day at work.”

“I was beginning to think you were just blowing me off as some kind of creep picking up chicks in a coffee shop.” I could hear him smiling through the phone. “Do you have any plans for dinner?”

“Nothing special. Just some frozen meal and hanging out with my cat.” I started gathering up papers and shoving them into my bag. Kate peeked her head back in to make sure I had called him. She gave me the thumbs up when she saw the phone tucked between my ear and shoulder.

“Well I wouldn’t want to anger your cat, but would you like to eat a proper meal at Klong with me?”

“That’s that Thai place on St. Marks, right?”

“That’s the place. Let’s say...7 pm?”

“Sounds good. It’ll give me a chance to go home and put on some pants that don’t have coffee on them,” I said, stuffing the last batch of papers away.

“See you then.” And we hung up. I slung my bag over my shoulder and closed the door behind me.

“I’m seeing him tonight at 7. And yes, I will give you all the details tomorrow,” I said walking past Kate’s desk without looking at her. I could feel her smile following after me.

* * *

Dinner went great and I found myself sharing a cab with him, heading towards his apartment. He unlocked the door and motioned for me to enter first. It was a nice, clean, modern apartment.

“Hmmm. Nice digs.”

“You sound surprised.” I watched as he locked the door then went into the kitchen. It was a very well choreographed dance. My eyes searched around the room, looking at all the artwork hanging. His hand appeared in front of me, holding a glass filled with a beautiful amber liquid.

“A little. Thanks for the drink.” He sat next to me and I took a big sip of my drink, which had a weird aftertaste. I put my glass down on a coaster and turned towards him. My eyes fluttered and I fell back onto the pillows.

I saw him pull his phone from his pocket and dial before my eyes closed. All he said was, “She’s out.”

And that’s how I knew that Thursday was out to get me.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

I'm taking a vote...

What should my next costume be?

  • Dove
  • Ice
  • Mary Marvel
    Mary Marvel
  • Plastique
  • Dean Trippe's Spoiler
    Dean Trippe's Spoiler
  • Velma
  • Nemesis
  • Lady Blackhawk
    Lady Blackhawk
  • Hawk
  • Enigma
  • Harlequin


More polls:

Monday, April 30, 2012

NaPoWriMo Day 30

Final day. Final poem. I can't think of a title at the moment and my head hurts too much to keep trying.  Enjoy.

The cool porcelain cradles my body,
knees pulled tight to my chest
and nails digging into my arms.
The hot water provides protection,
keeps the demons away and hides my tears.

If I stay here,
maybe these feelings will get washed away..

If I just stay here,
maybe the world will go away.