Tag Archives: blog

Writing Inspiration…


i’ve got a cavern of secrets
none of them are for you
even if you wanted to keep them
where would you find the room


i saw myself tonight
saw my reflection in the mirror
my hands and heart were tied
but i was scared of almost nothing at all


warm blood feels good, i can’t control it anymore
sweet one, you should stop me there but i keep on talking

warm blood – carly rae jepsen

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The Circle of Life…

I didn’t realize that a few hours after I wrote my last post I would be sharing in the heartbreak of losing a family member.

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Insert A Love Song Here…

Hey! Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. As if you couldn’t tell from the commercials on television exclaiming that it is “engagement season,” to the aisles draped in shades of red and pink in the stores.


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The Art of Letting Go…

It is kind of sad to think about how good I am at it…the letting go.

It’s not easy. Not at all.

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I Can Feel It Coming In The Air…



Something is coming…or at least it’s trying to.

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Well Then, Queen…

Just gonna set this right here for ya’ll…

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Is It Wrong…

I take care of a lot in this house. No, I don’t have kids. I just have my dog. But, I also have my parents.

They aren’t exactly disabled. My dad still works, and my mom is very active. But they are getting older. More recently, my mom has been feeling sick to her stomach almost on a daily basis. I understand that feeling. It sucks. She has chronic pain, so that makes it a little more intense. I help make a lot of decisions, and there are some days it frightens me a bit how much like a child my mom can be.

When my dad is deployed-which he is now-my mom gets very, very needy. I’m not complaining, because I understand every single day how lucky I am to have my mom around. I feel lucky everyday that I am able to help her and talk with her and laugh with her. I really try not to complain. But some days, I am tired.

Some days, I don’t want to take care of myself, let alone someone else. I feel guilty when I roll my eyes at a text asking me to come to the other side of the house. I feel guilty when I get a little angry because it is something so easy. I mostly feel guilty because some days I want to be selfish.

Sometimes, I wish I could lay my personal, petty little burdens on someone else. Without having to ask or offer them up. I wonder if it is wrong to just really wish that I had someone to think for me. For five minutes, if that’s all I could ask for, don’t make me be the one that has to think for myself.

I feel selfish because sometimes I want to be able to just…be. But “be” with someone. That’s weird right? To exist in some sort of space (physically, mentally, or emotionally) with someone and not have to worry if I am doing enough for them. Am I taking care of them the right way? Am I saying the right things? Am I being entertaining enough? have I cared enough about them? Do they need anything else? Is there anything wrong? Is there something I can do?

Just to exist with no questions.

I feel selfish when I need that. I am a natural giver. I give as much as I can of myself, in all aspects…to anyone who needs it, or wants it for that matter. I try not to ask for any of that back.

I have become an expert at taking care of myself. I have become an expert at making myself okay. I am impressive in my skills at being a rock for everyone (except for me). My words of support and advice have been crafted from years of being a pillar of light for everyone around me. I am not trying to brag, I just know what I do and that I am good at it.

Sometimes though, I want to be selfish. I want someone to be able to hear in my voice or in the tone of my silence that I need to exist with no worries about anyone else.

I want to be selfish in my need of my mind being taken away by sex, words, or laughter…without there needing to be a question.

I want to be selfish in those ways. And then I wonder if it is wrong to want to be selfish. Just for a little while.

It’s been one of those days.

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Forgotten Notebook II…

the days danced into nights

long quiet nights

silence, when the only

thing I wanted to hear was you.




but so were you.


this wasn’t a game started with one

we both play our part

you give me your words

i give you my heart

You make fantasy

i make promises

you sing

your song

and I sway to the music

it always sounded better in my head.


the force pulled together

much easier

than the slow drift apart

i grasp,

you miss


you let go,

only catching when you want me

when you need me

when you need

the comfort

i’m an expert at the comfort

i’m an expert at you.


i never give up

i give in

i give in to my need

my need of needing








but so were you.



you claimed you would be a light

but only when you wanted to be

you selfishly held my hand

not for me,

for you

and the reckless way you threw

your love around

my love away


something happened


i wanted

but didn’t need


i didn’t want, need, love, or even like


something happened.


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My car died on Friday. A lot. Okay, maybe it didn’t die, but it was definitely in a coma that it may or may not have been able to wake up from.

I’m dramatic.

My battery died. Today, I got a new battery, and all was well with the car world.

That turned out great for me because the past two days have been unexpectedly beautiful outside. I mean, the weather says it is going to be beautiful, but everyone’s definitions are different.

Yesterday and today were absolutely gorgeous.

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The Last Letter…

DeRay McKesson is an educator, activist, and part of the planning team of Campaign Zero (a plan to end police violence). Following him on Twitter, I have realized that he is also extremely creative, loves music, and has a profound amount of patience. He often posts six word stories that will make me pause.

Today, an article of his current inspirations was posted and I was reminded of a book I read last year. It was called Tiger Lily, by Jodi Lynn Anderson. I fell in love with the book, and highlighted the last letter that Peter Pan wrote to Tiger Lily (according to this version of the story, telling Tiger Lily’s side through the eyes of Tinkerbell).

Deray had this on his list, and I was reminded again how much I loved it, so wanted to share it here.


The full article featuring DeRay McKesson: here.

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