monday morning.

"i cry out love, keep your arms around me
i am a bird that's in need of grounding."

i can't help but stare.

i feel like i'm at the edge with you. like i'm just about to discover some essential truth, but i have to keep going in order to get to it. that's how i feel when i think about you.

i want to live passionately
with you.

things that i need.

a little more me &
a little more you.

this time i couldn't escape it. leaving your side, and into the rain, i fell.

11.22.11.

and.

there is something about your mouth your tongue and that look in your eyes.

11.21.11.

9:13 p.m.

i was thinking about you and trying to fill in the gaps of the spaces in between. us. there is something there. something kind of beautiful. like magic. grasping to reapply my chapstick, it launched toward the wall. i was thinking of you and lost in that moment.

the pickle.

i would like to tell the cat, please stop looking at me like that, it makes me self conscious.

but she continues to stare like i've done something—big, or that she wants to kill me—bad.

this morning in between the time mandi came upstairs to let gizmo go to the loo, pickles managed to sneak her way downstairs.

the cat will hardly move enough to sneeze throughout the day, yet at the first sign of the daylight basement, she's gone!

i looked at her—lounging underneath the foot of the elliptical—and she gave me that look.

i backed away but realized her eyes were telling me something else. like, fuck you mom, stay here, just don't touch me.

in that moment, i totally understood.

yesterday i was thinking it would be magical to share a bottle of two-buck-chuck at one of those parks. i'll take allergy and sinus meds and you bring a story—to tell, and ponder—underneath the sky.

the tragedy inside myself.

...

after reading my blog from long ago, i realized i certainly haven't changed at all.

but what has changed is that i've lost sight of myself.

two years. that's probably coincidentally how long it's been since i felt connection—with that one girl—who i used to keep tortured inside of me.

she was kind of magical. and brilliant.
and she wasn't at all afraid of asking for a head of lettuce.

i don't care to catch you up with the boring details that have attached to my life like lint. the story is this. i miss you. and i miss the way you made me feel about myself.

i've realized i'm afraid of a lot of things in life. but i'm not afraid of this.

so come beat me or vandalize me and kiss my mouth.
i need it back so i can remember how it felt.
how i felt.