True Stories.

He’s got this way of existing

As if he were a tremendous thunderstorm

That never rains, and only is irresistibly

Electric.

I wanna touch and feel the jolt of volts

But there’s no use, he’s too far

Love doesn’t request, it

Begs.

There’s no saying no. Yes

Is all there is.

I wipe my

Salty tears away from my

Clouded eyes to stare out at the

Noon day fog- my heart is knocking

In my

Chest thump thump thump

I lick my lips and they are salty

Too.

I’m mad. So mad I want to

Forget my name and start over

Again.

My tears keep flooding my

Eyes like a sinking boat I can’t

Keep afloat

I hit my fist against the steering wheel and

Beg to explode

Like a firework on display.

I can’t

Fathom anything but loneliness.

And I hate everything all

At once.

Just make it sea worthy

So I can float

I never will forget

your body against mine

on that fall night. Two

souls mad for each

other. We exploded

into a million pieces

and I did not

“I love you”

anymore.

Nor does he hug

and kiss me when

he gets home.

I’m alone.

He sits down and starts

bitching about something

that happened during

his day with no delay.

Then he falls asleep

before kissing

me goodnight.

I was feeling sorry for myself while I was scrubbing the tile floors in the kitchen today. It dawned on me, after 35 years mind you, that feeling sorry for yourself is a true pitfall and one that can lead to destruction of your mind and emotions.

I was feeling sorry for myself because I didn’t feel that great and yet, I had to do housework still and my husband was giving me no sympathy. This made me mad and so that just made me feel even worse.

Then I realized, “you know I give too much power to my self-pity.” It’s only making me feel miserable. Why? I don’t have to feel miserable if I don’t want to. I can choose to feel EMPOWERED instead. Yeah, let’s do that instead.

Remember that time

we ate oranges and planned

to make a journal cover

I want to be

humble and

kind and full of

compassion

so much so that

no one will

my neck note

wrote:

wrinkles and

crinkles for the

lady!

i’m not a smooth-

skinned 18 year old,

ya know?

I won’t lament

old age and

what it brings.