You

Goddamnit, I need you.
I don't know who you are other than some voice in my head who just stares blankly back at me when I get you down on paper. Sometimes you're my parent,
sometimes you're my whole heart's desire. Other times, you're just me--lonely and sad.
Either way, you're not here now and I need you so badly I can almost feel it choking me.
There's no time to recover or think this through, there's just now: and it is just full of nothingness and hot air.
It is the most hollowing feeling of void.
Like even though I have so much to give and think and change, really, all that is just nothing.
Because we aren't even here. We are wherever we are. And it is most certainly NOT together. It's not some completely different ingredients being mixed together to make something wonderful. Nope, it's just a bunch of bad flavors rotting with their lack of use. And that's how we want it--or at least how we choose it.
And I know this doesn't make you love me more. Then again, did you love me? Did you love me for more than the shared blood or the pretty image in a picture?
Oh yes, yes, love myself. Believe me, I do.
Someday I will create everything I want, even if it's just on paper and never in the real world. Wait, is the world real? Do you even exist? You're just in my imagination. Some security net I've always wanted but never been able to find. It's okay, I'm really learning to stand on my own feet and get up by myself when I'm knocked over. I know I'm worth it, I know I can make huge waves of change that would have incredible results. You don't though. You just sit there saying that my observations are too precise and changes just aren't in the cards. You make it this way. I am not going to live my life just letting things happen. I am going to learn, and damn it, I'm gonna teach it after I do. Maybe someone will listen and it will save them some serious heartbreak, let alone cash. I have something. Maybe you don't want to hear it, but someday you're gonna really read it and you're going to wish that you were here all along.

It's a slow climb

I think I found my compass.
I'm pretty sure I did.
It was broken there for awhile.
I kept trying to fix it, but I didn't have all the parts.
I think I've found it.
I've been using it for a little while now,
and it hasn't broken again (yet).
Or maybe it won't break again.


I'm finally doing my own thing.
I'm finally organizing my life the way I like it.
I'm finally conquering struggles faster than I was before.
I'm finally creating a life that I want to live.
I go through life now trying to only do things I'm proud of.
I welcome learning experiences that solve something.
I'm finally in love with me.
I like how I live life, and who I am
(I make mistakes)
But I'm happy with the direction my heart wants to go.


It's everything from being able:
to play You've Got Mail on repeat if I want,
to always always always playing classical music,
to make sure the shower curtain is open so the water drips off,
to have little surprises like hidden cash or forgotten candy,
to always have clean laundry,
to make sure my kitchen doesn't smell,
to let my cat on the porch,
to hang all my hippy stuff as a collage on my walls;
I love my home, and I love what I have created.