Thursday, March 28, 2013

Have you nothing better to do

to follow me,
to attend the place I work,
to send me emails,
to drop things off in my office space,
to meet so much with my boss,
to lurk when large events are over,
to try and make trouble,
to badger my best friend and her workspace - coworkers - establishment,
to just never



You're stalking and it's unhealthy.
Seek peace somewhere else; settling things with me will not bring it.
I forgive you, but I will not be reconciled to you- there is a difference.

Go in peace.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013


I dreamt about you, and it was sublime.
It made a lot of memories rush back
and reminded me how I miss you.

I keep hoping and praying that things will end up right,
but thinking of it all makes my heart uptight.


If there's just one thing I know:
away from you just doesn't seem right.

New journal

I bought a new journal
leather bound, with snaps and a simple utensil.
I love it.
I hate it.

I love the way it looks, the way it feels in my hands.
I love the secure snaps that, when opened, give way to a sleek thought keeper.
The possibilities are endless.

I hate the first page.
I always hesitate.
What will this booklet become?
Will I be bound to write in each day, then guilt-ride myself when I miss a few?  I know I'll give up.
Will I doodle and surely enough, not be satisfied at the product?  My drawing skills are few.
Shall I divulge my deepest secrets and let it become a vulnerable lock-box to my dreams?  I fear to be found.

I want to write.
Write and not have to erase, to delete.
I want to go at the page with purpose and poise;
with grace that delivers that which is rare and...beautiful.
I want it to be mine.

Are my words worth a penny?  A thought?  A moment?
Considering the first page fills me with hate.
But I love my journal.
What will it become?  And what of me?

Write on.