What I Need

Lace and lipstick.

Superglue.

A good book and a warm puppy curled up on my feet.

I’ve got this first world fire and I’m fighting it with the same.

We’ll see who comes out on top.

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At a time

I can’t handle not being pretty right now.

I want to have my hair done perfectly, my nails manicured, and my clothes clean and coordinating.  I need to feel put together.

But I’m running out of new dresses and I’m short on cash.

I’ve got scrapes up and down my arms from broken ornaments.  That’s the price you pay for Christmas spirit, I guess.

I don’t know where my life is going, but all I can tell you is that I don’t want a life on repeat.  I need something new.

I need to be something new.

June Cleaver does not need to rear her perfectly coiffed head.

I need a win, I need confetti and balloons and fireworks and warm feet.  I need a white horse and I need a trophy.

And I’m running out of time.

One more day

Last night was difficult.  There was a lot of pain going on and for the first time I chose to respect the glass barrier that kept me from it.  I’m not sure I like what that says about me. I pray for broken walls and redemption.  A sort of Jericho.  But I’ve lost those old maps and you packed away your trumpet.   I know there has to be hope.

I was up until 4 am finishing a paper.  The closest I’ve come in my life to an all-nighter.  And now I’m up again at 7h45 to dress up and present.  Its an act, but I think I’ve made enough sacrifices that the gods of lackadaisical students owe me something.  I’m so close to done with this semester.  Who would have expected.  I don’t know that I really believed in the existence of December after all, yet here it is.

I haven’t seen the weather.  I haven’t even looked out the window.  Its blocked by the Christmas tree and I have no desire to change that.  I’ll lose the world in these twinkling lights.

How many times is too many times to wear the same sweater dress?  I’m just not interested in finding new clothes right now.  I want wool wrapping me from head to toe.  I want to be warm and cocooned.  I want cotton and clouds and all things that are soft.

I want to stick my hand in your side and be told who you are right now.  And you rebuke me one last time as your pretty doubting Thomas.

 

Another Day

Today I am thinking of the deep deep blues that colour the sky late at night.  I am thinking of the artist who looks up and sees, not black, but a swirling of the deepest, darkest colours imaginable.  I am thinking of the beauty that can be found if you just look hard enough.

Today I am thinking of strangers fighting battles unknown and lovers fighting the all too familiar.

Today I am eating a banana that is ripe.  Too ripe for my taste.  But dear god do I need the potassium.

Today my hair and my heart are a mess and I’m trying to stay busy so I don’t think about either.  I could cry but I don’t want to add to the humidity in the air.

Today I know that I shouldn’t be afraid.  That courage is my shield, my backbone, and my adornment.

Today the past is grasping at my shirtsleeves.  Its tugging at my heart and at my coat.

Today I know that we are what we bring with us.  Today, I don’t know if I’ll catch the train.

My New Girlfriend

I don’t know what I’m doing.  And I have an idea that I’m making a huge mess.

But for once, I’d like to pretend that I’m fearless.  I’d like to believe I can fly.

I’d like to refuse to trust the arms that hold me to bear my weight.

I’d like to be Rachel Maddow  and Emma Watson and Jenny Wilborn all rolled into one.

I’d like to not give a damn, frankly.

But I’d still like to keep the words “my dear”.

I’d like to set the world ablaze and warm my feet by the fire.

I’d like to be reckless and passionate and I’d like to quit hesitating.

I’m ready to welcome back my old friends wine and gin and see what we find to talk about.

I’d like to remain all book drink-y and wine read-y.  But I have no control over what your pretty blue eyes see.

I’d like to throw out all the rulebooks and the timelines and the roadmaps and explore, make mistakes, and feel life with every fibre in this fragile body.

And I’d like to chase a golden retriever down by a pond full of geese.

I want to surprise people, turn heads on a crowded street.  But mostly, I’d like to surprise myself.