Monday, March 24, 2014

.i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine.


i need to tell myself that i am fine.

 i am tripping over over the words. the thoughts. the faces. the feelings. the lists. the failures. the rewards. pain. glory. joy. the everything. the everything.

 my brain is on loop and i need to throw up.
onto some page or into some painting. 

i'd rather paint and write than sleep but if i don't sleep this won't get better.
if i sleep i know that i'll never want to wake up again.

i'm probably obsessing. i tend to due that in manic whirlwinds. i think i spurred it on by not sleeping much the last three weeks. i've been obsessing a lot lately. about hanging pictures on a wall. it's taking me 8 times as long to hang these pictures as it would any other human. neurotic - that's how i feel.

or water bottles - i went to a store and they had the size water bottle i wanted but not the color. so i drove to another store. they didn't have the size or the color water bottle that i wanted. so i drove back to the other store. this is all in an hour and a half. i bought the smaller color that i wanted - but i still feel sick when thinking that it won't be enough water.

i think i might feel my throat constrict if i don't have a drink. if there isn't one near me - i feel like i will suffocate. like one of those fish lying on a sidewalk. lungs constricting quickly at first but then slower and slower no matter how hard you try. like i'll forget how to breathe. i've been afraid of that since high school. i'd been in cars riding in the passenger seat and then i'd remember i was breathing. this panic would override me as i began to think - keep breathing! keep breathing! how do you do this?! mouth?! nose!? rhythm!?. when i sit here and think about it again i start to make myself freak out.

i've never seen myself as a stressed out person. never looked into the mirror and beheld an anxiety ridden girl. but if i had a mirror right now i bet i'd witness a frantic and terrified young woman who is hyperventilating and pouring water down her throat. it's not even getting into her mouth. and she's choking on it. i'm not okay.

 i'm trying to do a million things and be a million things and pick up all of the balls that i dropped and glue all of the pieces back together of this unsightly puzzle back together but... i don't think i'm doing it right. i don't think i'm doing any of this right. 

i've been angry. i found out i was so angry i couldn't move. like my heart was stuck in tar. God slowed me down. reminded me i wasn't made for it. reminded me that it could be different. reminded me i could fall down and it would be okay. reminded me that i have a voice. a kind one, if whispered.

something changed. a retraction of bitter thoughts and words. a release of situations and control. it shifted. i don't need to walk around holding it all. carrying all of it with me and sucking it down. so i spoke.

i don't need to play things over and over again in my head. but right now i do.

i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. i am fine. 

maybe now i can fall asleep. maybe now it's real?


Sunday, March 9, 2014



The list was impossible. And so was He.




      "What do we do now?", I asked.

No answer.

"What comes after confession?",
more desperately.

Other's words fell out of lips
like unwanted ashes.

At the thought of leaving this;
A pit in my stomach.
Sorrow was filling too quickly.

My lips got cold.

I asked one last time,
softer now.

"What comes after confession?"

A whisper.



.wanted nothing.


I stared at Him. and I didn't want to move.
I never wanted to move again.
 I never wanted to breathe again.
I wanted to remain in this moment.
I wanted nothing.
The rumblings began.
And I sat. Believing that if I didn't speak -
somehow it wouldn't change.
That I could remember.
Remember something about Him.
Memorize His face.
Feel it in my chest. Feel His hand on my mouth.



promised me.
showed up.

i've been asking
to be spoken to every now and then.
and it happened. Abruptly.
sat me down.
told me all of the things
i never wanted to hear.
everything that I was afraid of.
all of it.
was beautiful.



He didn't need. Said things again. The same.
Louder. More direct.




In another breath I looked up.
He was on the sheets of paper.
I looked into Him.
He spoke.


.the drop.


The drop began
when I sat in the seat.

"She would've loved this.
She, the reason for my heart
and my existence,
 would've loved
But She was with Him
now and that's all
she ever wanted.
This was better
 for her.
This was better",
I told myself.
Better for her.

But there I sat,
the short one
 at the table.
Staring into the face
that I'd been shielding
myself from.
As I sat, I waited


.cover and pry.


When he said the word "silent"
I felt my chest concave.
God was going to make me see.
To cover my mouth with his hand.
To pry my eyes open.
Force me to look at Him.


.piano bench, folding chair, ottoman.


As soon as I stepped in- I knew that there was no place for me there.
That if they asked me to come sit at the table they would have to
pull up a piano bench, a folding chair, or an ottoman that was loud and wobbly.
I'd sit lower than every one else. With every breath the sound of the
chair would be excruciating in the midst of any and all conversation.
I thought nothing could penetrate me anymore.