I imagined that you were built of trees.
you were a canopy of shade
you put fruit into my mouth
and flowers into my eyes
you were green & brown
and burst with fire in the fall.
you grew tall
and strong
and had a tangle of roots beneath
the surface of the earth.
you were full of truth
and lots of little bugs
and you held the world together.
I imagined that you were a Pacific wave.
you were fluid
and full of sea secrets.
you were blue, of course
but also you were white and green
and you could rock even a giant to sleep.
I wanted you to be the north star.
I wanted for you to be home;
to rock my wild heart content.
So, I imagined that you were that strong house
left on an open prairie.
that you had a wood stove burning inside
and music playing.
I imagined the bed covered in quilts
and the kitchen cupboards full.
every floor board was full of laughter;
every nail meant that you loved me.
I wanted you
to be for me.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
tucked & cradled behind my little ribs
my heart is swollen.
there is so much that I miss
with all the bones
and all the flesh
of my body.
I just want to go home again.
I want to tell you
about how I got here.
you see, it happened like this:
I was a girl
I was a girl full of laughter
and the world was big
and I was lost
and confused
and I started to be sad because I couldn't see
beyond my little corner of love
(which some would say is a blessing)
but the world was big
and so were my eyes.
and my sister called
come sister, she said
and so I did
and my heart, oh my heart, felt everything that it could feel
and then there was a boy
for there is always a boy
and I fell. hard.
and my heart, beat faster & slower all at the same time
I think that I could actually feel it smile
and then my sister packed up millions of little boxes
and covered them in labels
"bathroom"
"kitchen"
"breakables"
and drove away
and I was left with the boy
who I loved. very much
but I missed her
and I missed everything even more then
because with her
I had a bit of home
and now my heart felt half empty
now my heart feels half empty
there is so much that I miss
and I want to go home again
but there is a boy
and I love him.
my heart is swollen.
there is so much that I miss
with all the bones
and all the flesh
of my body.
I just want to go home again.
I want to tell you
about how I got here.
you see, it happened like this:
I was a girl
I was a girl full of laughter
and the world was big
and I was lost
and confused
and I started to be sad because I couldn't see
beyond my little corner of love
(which some would say is a blessing)
but the world was big
and so were my eyes.
and my sister called
come sister, she said
and so I did
and my heart, oh my heart, felt everything that it could feel
and then there was a boy
for there is always a boy
and I fell. hard.
and my heart, beat faster & slower all at the same time
I think that I could actually feel it smile
and then my sister packed up millions of little boxes
and covered them in labels
"bathroom"
"kitchen"
"breakables"
and drove away
and I was left with the boy
who I loved. very much
but I missed her
and I missed everything even more then
because with her
I had a bit of home
and now my heart felt half empty
now my heart feels half empty
there is so much that I miss
and I want to go home again
but there is a boy
and I love him.
Friday, May 28, 2010
skid row
they don't stake their tents down
because, you know, its awfully hard
to stake a tent to dirty city sidewalks
some lay down under open night sky
in a pile of sleeping bags and
thin blankets that probably smell
like piss
and we drive by
holding each-others hands
and our full bellies
we are laughing
and talking and listening to music
and he is drinking a milkshake bigger
than my face
and he leans over and kisses me
with his vanilla lips
and I don't understand why
they are here
and not in bed
why didn't anyone say I love you
and mean it
and hold them to the ground
or lift them to the sky
why are they laying here
why can't they care
enough
to get the fuck up
to live
because, you know, its awfully hard
to stake a tent to dirty city sidewalks
some lay down under open night sky
in a pile of sleeping bags and
thin blankets that probably smell
like piss
and we drive by
holding each-others hands
and our full bellies
we are laughing
and talking and listening to music
and he is drinking a milkshake bigger
than my face
and he leans over and kisses me
with his vanilla lips
and I don't understand why
they are here
and not in bed
why didn't anyone say I love you
and mean it
and hold them to the ground
or lift them to the sky
why are they laying here
why can't they care
enough
to get the fuck up
to live
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Ode to Yellow
Yellow
you are eggs
sunny-side up.
you giggle as I scoop you into
my open red mouth.
you are pollen, impregnating
flowers
that crawl across mountains
in wild bliss.
you, dear yellow, are the sun.
you are life.
you are the moon and the stars
you are this book that I am reading
that is telling me to write.
Write!
you are the highlighter
that I am marking it up
in--
line after line of
poignant thought.
yellow.
yell--oh.
when I close me eyes and imagine
what you must feel like
I can only think of the golden warmth
of spring
and I can only imagine that you taste
like bananas
and I am reminded of that banana tree
that use to grow behind
the apartment that I use to live in
and the walls there, that I painted
a golden hue
I am reminded, yellow, of the life that was held
within those walls
I am reminded of that life
you are eggs
sunny-side up.
you giggle as I scoop you into
my open red mouth.
you are pollen, impregnating
flowers
that crawl across mountains
in wild bliss.
you, dear yellow, are the sun.
you are life.
you are the moon and the stars
you are this book that I am reading
that is telling me to write.
Write!
you are the highlighter
that I am marking it up
in--
line after line of
poignant thought.
yellow.
yell--oh.
when I close me eyes and imagine
what you must feel like
I can only think of the golden warmth
of spring
and I can only imagine that you taste
like bananas
and I am reminded of that banana tree
that use to grow behind
the apartment that I use to live in
and the walls there, that I painted
a golden hue
I am reminded, yellow, of the life that was held
within those walls
I am reminded of that life
Saturday, March 27, 2010
They packed up all of the fun and drove away
Zelda is meowing in the hallway.
The house feels vacant and kinda like someone forgot to pay the electric
and the gas.
The rooms feel hollow
and my little yard cries out that it can not grow!
Zelda is meowing in the hallway
We miss them too much.
The house feels vacant and kinda like someone forgot to pay the electric
and the gas.
The rooms feel hollow
and my little yard cries out that it can not grow!
Zelda is meowing in the hallway
We miss them too much.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
One Hundred Things
1.) I love swearing. No, really, it shakes my body awake with laughter! I even like to write swear words. There is nothing like dropping an 'F' Bomb!
2.) My toenails are ALWAYS red!
3.) I'm horrible on the phone. I make it awkward and rushed but it doesn't mean that I don't love you.
4.) My mom is probably the coolest and most amazing person I know!
5.) I miss Washington everyday.
6.) I talk to my cat. And she answers. Zelda is one smart cookie!
7.) And speaking of cookies, I make em'! All the time! And Pies. And Brownies. Want something, I'll bake it for you!
8.) I love getting dressed up and taking absolutely ridiculous pictures. Videos are even better!
9.) I was blessed with the most amazing brothers and sisters! I love them insanely and would do anything to make sure that they are happy...so don't f*ck with them! :)
10.) I have at least one out-of-town visitor a month! My doors are always open..wanna come to Hollywood?
11.) I wish that I was more informed. Foreign policy, Immigration, Politics and Economics. Because then I could make an informed decision.
12.) I love country music! Cheesy crap!
13.) I believe in Ghosts. I grew up in a Haunted House so just tell me that they aren't real!
14.) I can't wait to see more of the world! Brazil, Argentina, Egypt, India, Portugal, France (yep, still haven't been there!) wherever..I want to see it all!
15.) I love the goodwill! I grooove on the whole experience..even that tranny who keeps eyeballing my sequined dress! ha!
16.) I want Chocolate everyday...and I deny myself little! Typically I'll opt for Rocky Road Ice cream.
17.) I'm kinda over drinking. And I think that there must be something wrong with me...
18.) Grass between my toes...ahhhh...and maybe the dirt is a little damp so that it squishes up and makes your feet all muddy. I love it!
19.) I play my music LOUD!!!! All of it! All of the time. I'll probably have poor hearing when I am older.
20.) Sometimes I smile so much that my face hurts. And I defiantly laugh enough to cause a cramp in my stomach. It is amazing!
21.) I don't really 'do' breakfast. And I know that it is bad.
22.) I still look for things among the clouds.
23.) Oh, and I wish on all the brightest stars. If I want if bad enough, my wish comes true...all in due time, little one.
24.) I miss working on house projects. I even miss sanding...Oh the days of Colonel Sanders... 25.) I wish you all the best in everything. And I mean it with all that is inside of me!
26.) I'm really tired...I have to finish this later.
2.) My toenails are ALWAYS red!
3.) I'm horrible on the phone. I make it awkward and rushed but it doesn't mean that I don't love you.
4.) My mom is probably the coolest and most amazing person I know!
5.) I miss Washington everyday.
6.) I talk to my cat. And she answers. Zelda is one smart cookie!
7.) And speaking of cookies, I make em'! All the time! And Pies. And Brownies. Want something, I'll bake it for you!
8.) I love getting dressed up and taking absolutely ridiculous pictures. Videos are even better!
9.) I was blessed with the most amazing brothers and sisters! I love them insanely and would do anything to make sure that they are happy...so don't f*ck with them! :)
10.) I have at least one out-of-town visitor a month! My doors are always open..wanna come to Hollywood?
11.) I wish that I was more informed. Foreign policy, Immigration, Politics and Economics. Because then I could make an informed decision.
12.) I love country music! Cheesy crap!
13.) I believe in Ghosts. I grew up in a Haunted House so just tell me that they aren't real!
14.) I can't wait to see more of the world! Brazil, Argentina, Egypt, India, Portugal, France (yep, still haven't been there!) wherever..I want to see it all!
15.) I love the goodwill! I grooove on the whole experience..even that tranny who keeps eyeballing my sequined dress! ha!
16.) I want Chocolate everyday...and I deny myself little! Typically I'll opt for Rocky Road Ice cream.
17.) I'm kinda over drinking. And I think that there must be something wrong with me...
18.) Grass between my toes...ahhhh...and maybe the dirt is a little damp so that it squishes up and makes your feet all muddy. I love it!
19.) I play my music LOUD!!!! All of it! All of the time. I'll probably have poor hearing when I am older.
20.) Sometimes I smile so much that my face hurts. And I defiantly laugh enough to cause a cramp in my stomach. It is amazing!
21.) I don't really 'do' breakfast. And I know that it is bad.
22.) I still look for things among the clouds.
23.) Oh, and I wish on all the brightest stars. If I want if bad enough, my wish comes true...all in due time, little one.
24.) I miss working on house projects. I even miss sanding...Oh the days of Colonel Sanders... 25.) I wish you all the best in everything. And I mean it with all that is inside of me!
26.) I'm really tired...I have to finish this later.
Where have I gone? Swallowed. Gobbled down by a giant black beadle who was nothing more than hungry. Not malicious or mean, just hungry. And who can fault him for that?
I have been floating inside of his stomach, drowning in Black Beadle stomach acid. Consumed and voraciously digested.
I have fallen out the otherside (excuse the visual). I have been given back to the Earth. Almost whole.
I have been floating inside of his stomach, drowning in Black Beadle stomach acid. Consumed and voraciously digested.
I have fallen out the otherside (excuse the visual). I have been given back to the Earth. Almost whole.
Monday, January 18, 2010
If I could call the rain to dance I’d ask only for one violent and passionate tango;
the black/blue sky would be shot through with
lightening & the drum of thunder would rock
the earth and I, I would court it and hold its hand.
Dance with me. Dance with me. Shake me and wake me.
And when it was over I wouldn’t mind falling to
the ground ,the wet grass, the wet dirt,
and catching up with my breath.
If I could ask the sun to be mine at night, to
come to me at the hour that he retires and slips
behind that mountain we both love, I would. I’d
invite him to tea and we’d get drunk on
laughter and lazy on words. Talk to me and I
will listen. Make me laugh. Make me cry. Stir
me with your story. Shake me and wake me.
And when he left late in the night/early in the
morning I wouldn’t mind lying there by myself
feeling empty except for the words he’d placed
into my soul.
the black/blue sky would be shot through with
lightening & the drum of thunder would rock
the earth and I, I would court it and hold its hand.
Dance with me. Dance with me. Shake me and wake me.
And when it was over I wouldn’t mind falling to
the ground ,the wet grass, the wet dirt,
and catching up with my breath.
If I could ask the sun to be mine at night, to
come to me at the hour that he retires and slips
behind that mountain we both love, I would. I’d
invite him to tea and we’d get drunk on
laughter and lazy on words. Talk to me and I
will listen. Make me laugh. Make me cry. Stir
me with your story. Shake me and wake me.
And when he left late in the night/early in the
morning I wouldn’t mind lying there by myself
feeling empty except for the words he’d placed
into my soul.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
My Roommate The Black Slug Who Oozed Self Loathing...
My roommate the black slug who oozed self loathing…
Be wary. Be cautious. Craigslist can be deadly. It can promise you gold and rainbows and beautiful things. It can (and oh! It does) reach its gentle hand forward, it’s palm overfilling with magic—“Look,” it says, “ I have ALL of this!” and you buy it, you open up both of your hands to catch some of its goodness but with a flick of the wrist, the magic is tucked back up its sleeve. It’s put away for some other naive and hopeful idiot. Craigslist hands over sticky filth.
I met her one summer day. She came skipping down the street as I dragged my laundry past the Trannie Prostitute (out for her afternoon stroll) and up my steep tiled stairs. Her hair was blond and streaked with pink. She was an artist and loved the beach. She giggled like a five year old. Perfect! Not only roommates, thought I, we could—just possibly—be great friends.
A handwritten contract was signed as we discussed how lovely life would be; we would convert the garage into a studio, we would drink wine, we would get gussied up and hit the town. Oh! The possibilities!
The following week, her father drove down to move her in. Her furniture was pink and cheap and she sat at the bottom of the stairs as I helped her dad and uncle carry it all up into my beautiful little apartment. I told myself that it didn’t’ mean anything. I told myself that I could live with the giant sea foam green hutch she dropped down next to my lime green living room wall. Relax, Aubrey. Don’t be a bitch, Aubrey.
And then a giant bomb was dropped: “ I am just coming from an in-house clinic. I have been battling an eating disorder since I was eleven.”
Translation: “I hate myself and am terribly needy.”
I don’t mean to be crass. I sympathize. There is not a single girl who hasn't had the thought of "What would it be like if I could just expell from my body that giant feast that I just rushed down my gullet."I just didn’t mean to sign up as a half way house. I didn’t want to wake up and find my full gallon of Rocky Road ice cream gone. I didn’t want to have to take down the sign I’d made and posted inside of the fridge that said ‘When you think about eating, think about sex instead.’ I didn’t want to have to clean vomit out of the toilet bowl.
At first, I remained hopeful. I didn't judge. I threw those worrisome signs out of the window. I helped her unpack and clung to the thought that this was going to be a good situation--perhaps not perfect, but good was good enough. I suggested movie nights. I invited her to hikes. Sometimes, in those brief moments, things were as I had envisioned them. We were on the verge of forming a friendship. But then she would slink back into her room; the door eternally closed.
And then a scent began to crawl from out under the eternally closed door. And then, all of the sudden, my beautiful little apartment began to be home not just to the two of us, but to a family of ants. And then cockroaches. And then that deep dark hole of negative self-loathing. Her energy invaded the house and flooded everything in my life. I stayed away. What could I do? She had no intention of getting better. This was her card and she intended to carry it with her so long as she could.
"I couldn't go pay the electric bill all week, because I'm sick and my heart may fail. No, I didn't think to tell you that you should go pay it..."
"I can't take the trash out even once, else I may end up in the hospital again."
"I can't wash my dishes...you know, I'm sick, right?" And so her dishes (my dishes, mind you) piled up in her not-yet-unpacked room, one on top of the other; old food crusted onto them. When all of my 16 bowls had vanished, I braved opening the eternally closed door to reclaim them. Every surface of dresser, bedside table, clean spot on floor, was littered with food remains...some crawling with little bugs. My blanket that I had been missing was crumpled up on the foot of her bed, my movies strung across her bedroom floor.
Later that evening, when I knew what I must do, I told her what I had found. She claimed that I had no right to go into her room to capture my things. I told her that she had the right to move on and find a new house to infect.
Life is short. She has since moved out.
Be wary. Be cautious. Craigslist can be deadly. It can promise you gold and rainbows and beautiful things. It can (and oh! It does) reach its gentle hand forward, it’s palm overfilling with magic—“Look,” it says, “ I have ALL of this!” and you buy it, you open up both of your hands to catch some of its goodness but with a flick of the wrist, the magic is tucked back up its sleeve. It’s put away for some other naive and hopeful idiot. Craigslist hands over sticky filth.
I met her one summer day. She came skipping down the street as I dragged my laundry past the Trannie Prostitute (out for her afternoon stroll) and up my steep tiled stairs. Her hair was blond and streaked with pink. She was an artist and loved the beach. She giggled like a five year old. Perfect! Not only roommates, thought I, we could—just possibly—be great friends.
A handwritten contract was signed as we discussed how lovely life would be; we would convert the garage into a studio, we would drink wine, we would get gussied up and hit the town. Oh! The possibilities!
The following week, her father drove down to move her in. Her furniture was pink and cheap and she sat at the bottom of the stairs as I helped her dad and uncle carry it all up into my beautiful little apartment. I told myself that it didn’t’ mean anything. I told myself that I could live with the giant sea foam green hutch she dropped down next to my lime green living room wall. Relax, Aubrey. Don’t be a bitch, Aubrey.
And then a giant bomb was dropped: “ I am just coming from an in-house clinic. I have been battling an eating disorder since I was eleven.”
Translation: “I hate myself and am terribly needy.”
I don’t mean to be crass. I sympathize. There is not a single girl who hasn't had the thought of "What would it be like if I could just expell from my body that giant feast that I just rushed down my gullet."I just didn’t mean to sign up as a half way house. I didn’t want to wake up and find my full gallon of Rocky Road ice cream gone. I didn’t want to have to take down the sign I’d made and posted inside of the fridge that said ‘When you think about eating, think about sex instead.’ I didn’t want to have to clean vomit out of the toilet bowl.
At first, I remained hopeful. I didn't judge. I threw those worrisome signs out of the window. I helped her unpack and clung to the thought that this was going to be a good situation--perhaps not perfect, but good was good enough. I suggested movie nights. I invited her to hikes. Sometimes, in those brief moments, things were as I had envisioned them. We were on the verge of forming a friendship. But then she would slink back into her room; the door eternally closed.
And then a scent began to crawl from out under the eternally closed door. And then, all of the sudden, my beautiful little apartment began to be home not just to the two of us, but to a family of ants. And then cockroaches. And then that deep dark hole of negative self-loathing. Her energy invaded the house and flooded everything in my life. I stayed away. What could I do? She had no intention of getting better. This was her card and she intended to carry it with her so long as she could.
"I couldn't go pay the electric bill all week, because I'm sick and my heart may fail. No, I didn't think to tell you that you should go pay it..."
"I can't take the trash out even once, else I may end up in the hospital again."
"I can't wash my dishes...you know, I'm sick, right?" And so her dishes (my dishes, mind you) piled up in her not-yet-unpacked room, one on top of the other; old food crusted onto them. When all of my 16 bowls had vanished, I braved opening the eternally closed door to reclaim them. Every surface of dresser, bedside table, clean spot on floor, was littered with food remains...some crawling with little bugs. My blanket that I had been missing was crumpled up on the foot of her bed, my movies strung across her bedroom floor.
Later that evening, when I knew what I must do, I told her what I had found. She claimed that I had no right to go into her room to capture my things. I told her that she had the right to move on and find a new house to infect.
Life is short. She has since moved out.
Monday, January 4, 2010
A Love Poem
I want to wrap you in stars and whisper kisses into your ears, onto your beautiful mouth.
I want to throw you into the wind so that I may watch you dance, this way, that way, your skin barely grazing my arm, my leg; warm.
Today marks the day of a new decade and all that I can think is that I want to spend it with you. All that I can see is your smile.
I didn’t know that we could ever love so strongly.
So strangely. So beautiful.
I want to swim in the thought of you—where all those brilliant fishes survive—and catch my toes on seaweed and dig my fingers into the sand.
I want to throw you into the wind so that I may watch you dance, this way, that way, your skin barely grazing my arm, my leg; warm.
Today marks the day of a new decade and all that I can think is that I want to spend it with you. All that I can see is your smile.
I didn’t know that we could ever love so strongly.
So strangely. So beautiful.
I want to swim in the thought of you—where all those brilliant fishes survive—and catch my toes on seaweed and dig my fingers into the sand.
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