Only Natural

Sometimes, I wonder what I am

Joy and power came to me when I ran.

At times, I wonder if I ever will be free?

These days it’s harder just to be.


Clock ticks, hands move slowly back and forth

Heartbeats bring me back to where I was before.

Tremors of hands and jerking of knees

Seizing, I’m giving up the will to breathe.


Standing, now I am on my own.

Lost, searching for a way to go.

Questions and answers both fade away

Confusion leads me to a position where I stay.


Tubes and wires keeping me alive

In this dormant state how will I survive?

Strings and stitches holding it together

Scars, I’m told stay with me forever.


Ocean breeze guides me to the sand

Nature gently takes me by the hand

Sunlight sends my eyes to tears

Water, wash away my fears.


Months pass, still locked inside this place.

Shadows graze a hand upon my face

Voices whisper words I do not recognize

Trembling, I open up my eyes.


Til’ Death Partner

to the end  In 2004, I took this photo for extra credit in art class.  My intent (then) was focussed on this young girl, mourning the loss of parents.

10 years later, I found this photo in a box.  Of course, my instinct was to roll my eyes at my past teenage angst.  After that reaction, I kinda just stared at it.  Something was off.

Upon reviewing the photograph, my eyes were drawn to the dates on the joined headstone. This couple died 9 days apart from each other.  Nine days isn’t enough to mourn.  It’s as if they promised they would be together always.

Call me sentimental, but I hope someday I will find my til’ death partner.


Two more steps and I’m out of this darkness

Clawing, pushing and pulling

Something’s holding me back.

Grasping for something to climb on

I want to move forward

But I’m tied to my past.


Slipping back into memories

The kids point and laugh at me…

They keep pushing me down.

What is this force that I don’t see?

Chained to my hands and feet

I just want to go now.


The girl you used to know who used to pick flowers

She’d play outside for hours,

She’d come when you’d call.

That girl is now locked up inside of me,

Caged in her misery

She gave up after the fall.


Falling out of my consciousness

The moments are slipping by

I’m locked in my brain.

Inside, a battle still wages on

It’s still me against her

These feelings remain


The sweet child, the happy one

She’s not taking messages

You can yell all you want, she’s not coming home.

The young girl you once knew

She’s distorted and broken,

Don’t knock she won’t answer; she just wants to be alone.


I can’t make it go away

Try to forget what they’ve done

Memories fleeting in the back of my mind

A voice inside of me keeps on screaming

“Don’t give up! Keep fighting,

This is not your time.”




Have you ever had a secret that you just wanted to scream out?  You just want to confess to someone-anyone, a random person on the street that wouldn’t have any idea what you are talking about…

Secrets are like shadows.  They engulf the day into night only to have the sun rise again to procure more shadows.  All I want is a flashlight right now.  Something to scope out and peer into the shadow that is keeping me from the light.

I wish you all have a happy day.  If you need me, I’ll be looking for that flashlight.


The Currency of Candy


This is Persephone.  She is a candy vampire.

Persephone loves any and all sweet items.  She doesn’t feed on blood but soda pop and licorice instead.

What if candy solved all our problems?  I remember that childhood song, “If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gum drops…”  Seems unsanitary now but when we were kids candy falling from the sky was an amazing idea.

I used to be rewarded with candy.  Most children were!  Go to the doctor’s office and leave with a lollipop! Something so simple yet we would do anything for it.  Now as an adult, I find I’d rather be rewarded with money.  Money to pay for my hobbies, a roof over my head, water and electric, funds for medical bills.  What if we could pay with candy?  Oh how nice that would be.

I recall reading about the aristocratic society weighing more.  This is due to the ability to afford food for their family and themselves.  Today, we see celebrities thin and somewhat emaciated. The richer you are, the thinner you are because you can afford to keep yourself healthy.  In shape.  Now there’s a concept.  I’d much rather be curvy than stick-like.  Don’t get me wrong–It’s very important to be healthy.  Exercise and a well balanced diet are important…I’d just rather pay my trainer in chocolate.

Do You Believe in Magic?

magicWhen you’re young, anything is possible.  Your mind is vulnerable and open. I used to believe that dolls could really come to life when I wasn’t looking.  Even as an adult, I have the slight feeling that they are more than plastic.  It’s the emotion that is put into them.  The memories of that first toy and the adventures it went on.  Where are those toys now? Wouldn’t you love to know what they would be like if they were capable of talking? “Remember that time we went to the beach?  I loved living in that sand castle.” The comfort of a teddy bear’s hug is no longer enough.  Now we crave the attention of humans.  Unlike the inanimate object that absorbed the emotion and stories we created for them, adults ask for opinions; we want answers.  The veil of magic no longer exists.  As we grow older, magic is less and less impressive.  We can see that he is wearing a coat for a reason.  Where else would the birds come from? When you were a child, did you really care what the color of your neighbor’s skin was?  Or why a family had two mommies?  I don’t recall (in my lifetime) questioning their worth.  All I saw was a friend.  Love.  More people to hear stories from. What would you say if you could go back in time?  Would you tell your child self to sit up straight?  Don’t eat candy?  Would you dare tell them that two mommies is wrong?  Imagine your child self’s reaction.  I know my first word would be: Why? Children are innocent.  They are raised to become the adults we know today.  If I were to give my child self advice I would say, “Never lose faith in yourself.  Stay true to who you are.”  I wouldn’t say anything about my beloved dolls.  That would be wasting breath.

“Hanging on in …

“Hanging on in Quiet Desperation is the English Way…” -Pink Floyd

Isn’t it the truth?  I’m a mutt of European decent but honestly, I’ve learned that certain cultures feel that showing emotion is a weakness. Although some hold a stoic façade, I’m sure they cry themselves to sleep at least once a week.  

No shame.  None at all.  Feel the emotions.  Show them.  Own them.  Now go.