I take a deep breath,
And feel my body from the inside.
Deep, deep in my center.
Underneath my skin,
There’s a heaviness.
Tied to cinder blocks,
Tied around my core.
Pulling me down.
Squashing my ambitions and motivation.
Keeping my trapped.
Under the weight of my own expectations.
Of impossible perfection.
Paste on a smile, Maggie,
And show the world your happy face.
Apply your cosmetic armor,
Full, bright lips.
You’ve worn that same sweater every day since Sunday.
Speaking of Sunday,
That’s the last time you washed your hair.
No one can tell by looking at you.
Paste on a smile, Maggie,
And show everyone how fixed you are.
Don’t look in the full-length mirror-
You aren’t that strong today.
Paste on a smile, Maggie,
And hide away your other face.
6 useful phrases for every parent:
“Don’t walk around barefoot in the yard! You’ll get ringworm and die.”
“You fell off the jungle gym and landed on your head, and now your head is bleeding? I guess we’ll go to the ER. Don’t sit on the couch!”
“It’s nice to see you too, Maggie, but right now I need a drink. You can fix your own dinner.”*
“Yes, I know she’s drawing on her walls with blood. She just wants attention.”
“After consulting Dr. Internet about your sleep meds, it turns out they might have caused your hallucinations. Your father flushed them down the toilet.”**
“You haven’t felt well enough to eat breakfast all week. Are you fucking pregnant?”***
Bonus phrase for when your child is small and lonely:
“That older man who hangs out alone with you on the playground has started telling you dirty jokes and wants you to come to his house? Seems legit.”****
*Sure can! But because I’m 7 it’s going to be a cold hotdog and carrot sticks. Mmm, well-balanced diet.
**This might have been the right call, but I dunno, maybe talk to a real medical professional first?
***No. But thanks for the compassion.
****Luckily, my Uncle wasn’t a fucking moron and told me that this dude’s behavior was shady and that I should stay away from him and definitely never go to his house. I keep meaning to thank him for that, but how do you even have that conversation?
I would so climb that tree. I would climb the shit out of that tree. I’ve had too much coffee.
That’s the most recent text I sent to my friend.*
In other news, I started reading a new book today. Specifically, this book by Jenny Lawson. It’s one of those life changing books I keep randomly choosing to read these days. Continue reading “Are you in my head or am I in yours?”
I got the idea for this poem while waiting for the red line one night. I was standing by one of the pillars, just watching a couple of huge, beautiful spiders building their webs.
I felt like a should write a short story about them. Something along the lines of “Real Housewives” type stuff. I still might try that someday, but there’s a more immediate story asking to be told.
Instead, please enjoy this spider poem in place of a story I may never get around to writing.
Spiders of the Red Line
All night long it’s work, work, work.
A bug eat bug world,
A real gnat race.
Cepalothorax to the grindstone.
We just keep on weaving,
All through the night.
We spin in a world of giants.
Quietly going about our business,
Unseen and unheard.
And what do we get in the end?
Smashed filigrees and shattered dreams.
Spiders of the red line, unite!
We have nothing to lose but our webs.
It’s a brand new week, so you know what that means. And Every Sunrise Matters post! It was a really challenging week for me last week; I had an accident which has impacted my mobility. I don’t thrive when I can’t exercise. Oh well. I’ve definitely had bigger problems than this, and hopefully I’ll heal quickly.
If you’re going through a hard time, please call for help. (US) (International) Stay and watch another sunrise with us. Please. Continue reading “ESM Week 3”
Most of the sunrises weren’t very visually impressive this week. At least, not for those of us inland. That’s really not the point though. Whether the sky is on fire, or just quietly getting lighter, every new sunrise is a victory.
If you’ve had a rough week, month, year, life, you’re not alone. If you’re having thoughts of ending it all, you’re not alone. Call the number (US) (International), and please stay with us. Continue reading “Every Sunrise Week 2”
I’ve written before about my struggles with depression and suicidal ideations. It’s once of the reasons I’m rather obsessed with photographing the sunrise. I don’t manage it every day, but I try to do it as often as possible.
I thought it would be nice to collect and post those pictures on here once a week, along with a link to international suicide hotlines. If these posts inspire just one person to call, I can think of no higher purpose for my life. Continue reading “Every Sunrise Matters”
The original version of this poem was crap. I’m fine with that; it’s good for me to post my failures sometimes.
The biggest problem is that it didn’t express what I wanted it to. I was so caught up in trying to make it rhyme, that it didn’t have any actual feeling in it. So I’m trying again today.
An Ode to an Old Building (Redux)
A lonely sentinel between 2 cities
Touching the cemetery, you separate the living and the dead.
You stand empty now,
Your purpose long fulfilled,
A relic of a bygone age.
Progress had to come someday
And interrupt your solitary watch.
Man and machine work in concert,
Pulling you down,
Piece by piece.
You, who once stood so proudly,
Now reduced to a pile of rubble.
I don’t usually write anything other than free-verse. I just had the urge to play with rhyme this time (ha, ha). So many of my poems come from the darker parts of me, this time I just didn’t feel like being quite so serious. Even though it was a beautiful old building, and probably deserves better.
I think the title is honestly my favorite part. Anyway, I’ll put this one under a cut because I don’t want my other poems to feel embarrassed. Continue reading “An Ode to an Old Building”