Double whammy this month. March is a Blue Moon, an astronomical term. Not cuz it’s blue but because either it’s either an extra full Moon that occurs in a season, or there’s a second full moon in a calendar month, hence this month’s second moon.
Ok, Beautiful Blue Moon, here goes:
I let go of what I knew.
I let go of what I deem are ‘mistakes’.
I let go of holding back.
I cultivate second chances.
I cultivate trying again for the fun of it.
I cultivate freedom.
She’s about the feeling of things.
Purpose, intention, crystals, jewelry that means something or else why wear it?
She’s stunning to look at,
a glow from within.
Her world has exploded wide open,
in the biggest game in town.
She is flying high.
I’m watching myself study her.
Yet another rocket taking off, and again, the ship has sailed without me.
A thought comes to me, crystallized.
Maybe it’s not about the glitz and glamor
Maybe it’s not about the job and the colossal team behind her.
Maybe it’s simply her perspective.
That lightness of being; the effortlessness, right time/ place, sort of thing.
Held up by Nature.
Airplane wings like pillows and blankets
embracing and elevating her.
Nestled in, she dreams a life actualized.
What I can do.
Weeks, since writing.
Cause? Open heart surgery.
Recuperating is like watching hair grow.
He said many things.
She did the same.
Words, on repeat, like radio.
You don’t really know someone.. until you do.
A wakeup call.
We went from green to red.
I take responsibility.
For stepping over my boundaries.
I carry that mark.
Wounds, please heal fast.
I hope time is our friend, my love.
What a time to be disconnected
In this beautiful, vast cyber city.
What should be hibernation with cuddles and warm blankets
What should be hugs holding us through the night –
Let’s see how it turns out…
Heart. Pride. Certainty. Love.
This is my shadow.
A life a few feet behind me.
That shirt. God, I thought I tossed it.
This smell..brings me back to here.
When it was then.
I sat at this very table processing, organizing, dreaming, concocting.
He sat catching a show on the tube.
I would go to sleep full of dreams and plans and, well, darkness.
How can you build on unsteady ground?
This work is hard and real and very necessary.
These pants. I hope they fit.
Do I still want the books, the socks, the dusty makeup?
Maybe not the makeup.
The muffled city outside taps on my window.
Tomorrow, lovely one. Tomorrow.
My little treetop of goodness.
How it fills my soul.
Silence. No dog. No schedule. No errands.
Not yet. Just. Me.
Hard work happens on an exhaustive plane home,
Unpacking and sifting and embracing my fragile heart.
Eyes like thick drops of oil.
Body like a sleepy kitten. Make that an older cat.
Mind swimming uphill with zest, or maybe desperation.
Tomorrow, lovely one. Tomorrow.
I’m parked and looking over a park
Man, you would love this one
I’ll have to bring you here sometime.
I am exhaling a deep sigh,
Taking a breather. From you.
I know I can be an ass. I know that my patience runs thin and I get into my moods.
I know I’m snippety and judgemental and can work from primary colors
I know you know I’m only human (thank god)
And I appreciate that you still come to me when I call (thank you)
You will never get this since we removed your testicles,
but it’s hard being a parent, man.
No matter how much shit I’ve dealt with, there’s still so much more.
And I’m only human.
I. Am. Only. Human.
My imperfections can have scary faces and ugly temperaments (even to me)
Being a parent means being a better version of myself
And sometimes I don’t want to do that.
Sometimes I want to be the ‘youngen,’ the child, the receiver.
I want to chuck tantrums and throw all responsibility out the window
Every single piece of it.
Continue reading “dear jackie”
FADE IN: a couple who have been arguing.
Let’s pretend for a while. Let’s be two different people with different pasts and different heartaches.
What are you talking about?
Let’s forget we’re fighting and pretend we don’t know each other. “Hey there,” (he smiles)
“How’s the coffee?”
I’m not playing this stupid game
“That’s a pretty dress.”
“Thank you,” (she mutters as she rolls her eyes)
“Got something special happening today?”
“Nope, just waiting for my boyfriend to wake the fuck up.”
“Oh, he’s a late sleeper?”
“No, he’s a dickhead who can’t see what’s in front of him.”
“Well, if he forgets to tell you, know that you heard it from me: you look beautiful.”
(she looks away)
“You are beautiful.”
Stop it (she looks away again)
“Can I get you a blueberry muffin to go with your coffee?”