2/28 part I
voices from my past echoing
it begins with love
and like music, I still will put you first
But what if it all twisted on its head?
maybe it was never to be found in the void
between you & I’s lips…
the 180,360 turns broke when I found a new cypha
& it started with a kiss between friends
shared when the lights were off
you have changed everything
even when I’m hurt by him
he instills hope as I turn the corner
… this isn’t unsettled, this is unfinished…
a rumble continues – romantic v. realistic
I don’t need my happy ending at 23
I just need to be – I’m at my best
with my feet firmly on the ground, smiling
So, hold my hand as I look up to the stars
pull me close and be my present voice
… at least until the record fades.

2/28 part II
if every section of my 23 years was a record
this is hip-hop beboping into a blue jazz dream
the revolution does not wait…
Love for self cultivating into late night history lessons
created by poets seemingly for poets
pen bleeds through the pad, now that I stood still
Listened to my soul cry, I am closer to being freed
But, first, more depth, more knowledge
so, I too, can carry my pen as a sword.

3/1 part I
I enjoy taking the time to connect my t’s
dot my i’s in my script print
that sometimes is so clear
and sometimes is completely misunderstood
my add mind is at rest as I press
the pen, filling the white with the blue ink
as I move my hand, the slight squealch
provides another scratch to the hip-hop
in the headphones and I know I’m done
when I run my fingers over and under
the page in an attempt to stretch
out the cramps and give my writer’s bump
a pause – I am Helen Keller, smiling
at the braile of my favorite
lines, stanzas, poems
filling the pages of my notebook
because here I grow
here, I take control
of every thought – filtering it through scribbles
and the slight pause it takes to write
out the words, dot my t’s and cross my i’s
even still, my mind moves faster than the pen
but this is my intimacy
every misspelling, skipped word,
block out & over coma use is me
… unplugged.

3.1.10 II [aka "& no, this is not 2006"]
the truth is, in one summer you managed
to turn my defeats into triumph of soul
your grasp of intimacy and brand of optimism
forever embedded into my heart
my pen’s pausing ’cause I knew
what was next and that was fear choking me
I don’t want my heart’s soundtrack to be a broken record
of circles, but He mysteriously appeared
and sometimes I question, but mostly I try to grow
fertilizing the soil with strong roots, slowly blossoming
into a beautifully full tree
’cause I don’t want to be a wilted rose
as I grow taller, I see your lights
more clearly at night – this is not a cirlce.
I’m struggling to release your memory
for the same reason a portion of my heart
is missing – your soul touched mine
But I, have grown to trust
in mind, body, soul, & heart
risks are to be taken, not dwelled upon
… after all, every revolution is born of love
and revolution is in my blood.

» feeling: odd

yeah. good job with the writing more. i give up on any type of structure. i’ll write when i do. guess my pen is back on that temperamental stuff. -shrug. what’s a girl to do? let ‘er rip… [just go with it]

annoyed that i’m still letting my past interfere with my future. where do we draw the line between learning from our mistakes & being held hostage by our past? in my head, i had already cursed you out. kicked you out [at least for enough time to let me simmer down]. then… i understand your frustrations - as simple as that & i’ll work on that patience thang. & even still it boils down to – i miss your presence if only because of that positivity you spew. ever since you and he started talking, you just seem happier. the truth. makes me blush.

that being said, you need to keep my name / the “situation” out your mouth. way to perpetuate the devil’s spawn legend i penned about you. still. that’s my name you’re dragging with you. but, thank you for my answer : no, you probably never cared & you feel absolutely NO remorse, heartless bastard. i wish i could let go of the anger. but, it kills me that i was left by my lonesome to deal with the mess that you played a HUGE part in. fact is – you are still accepting zero responsibility – which makes you a child. & as much as i believe in forgiveness to move forward, i just can’t find it within to forgive your actions. not now… & a part of me thinks not ever.

i need new music, so pandora’s my band-aid.

i have a whole week off at the end of this month. & i’m going nowhere. fast. i never understood what being broke TRULY meant ’till my checking account went negative. [i still place some blame on chase - bahstads!] a part of me wants to be selfish & irresponsible & get a credit  card & book a ticket to Paradise. but… i’m 22. too old for that bullshit. as much as i love being grown & independent, sometimes i wish i was still living off mom & dad, not having to contemplate loosing my sanity [& by that, i mean, subtract me time & add a second job] & be able to go wherever the fuck i want. i have way too much on my plate to be this young. life isn’t easy. clearly.

the highs. the lows. ’tis life.

(Just a little something to show my thanks to her. I’ve been so stuck in my block, I haven’t even been able to read, let alone write, poetry as of late… she’s helping with all that… love her)

that tear creep up in the corner of your iris

leak down your cheek

I forgot the taste

of the salt as it hit your lips

parching your dry mouth

I forgot the sound

of my own sobs

choking on words

subdued in my throat

I forgot the sight

of red eyes

on top of red cheeks

framed by red hair

I forgot how to cry

even as the tears sneak up

brought on by winter winds

whipping up an infection of sinuses

leaving me to self-medicate as I

gain clarity with Theraflu pumping

in my blood… I want to feel

outside this pen and pad.

Thank-you for restoring my confidence.

yes.we.did.

It still doesn’t seem real. I’m gonna be asking people to pinch me all day long, LOL.

(my life is a sitcom lol… )