Why is it
I so very readily
doubt the good things

but never seem to
the bad?

I know one day you will leave me.
I know one day you will grow tired.
I know someday I’ll stop hearing from you.
I will not be surprised if you do not like me
for who I am,
or if you only ever really wanted
a way into
my bed.

But you take your time.
No pressure.
No rush.
All respect and kindness–

No sign or signal
to even hint
that you are just waiting
to hurt me in the end.

My mind just never seems to tire
of trying to convince me
of just how unworthy I am.

the collapse

“I’m surprised that’s the first thing you’d change,”
you tell me over the phone,
miles apart.

You’re referring to the bruises,
large black blooms around my
thighs, knees, calves

Souvenirs from the injections–
hundreds of needles
collapsing years of insecurity
and the thin spider webs,
the tiny purple rivulets,
that used to wind their way
across my skin.

“Now that you’ve ruined the moment”
you say, in the moment,
ruining more than I ever could when,
pants off,
I first explained the sight.

“What would you have me change first?”
I ask

“I don’t know. Your vision – get rid of the glasses and wear contacts.
Dress sexier.”

Why didn’t you just say
exactly what you meant
Which is to say that I must change all of me
it all must go
everything is wrong
and I am not worthy of your love

it would have been better
and closer to the truth


I wanted you to know that I was awake as you slept.
I felt you move closer and hold me,
felt you unconsciously kiss my nose,
lost somewhere deep within a dream.

We are not lovers and we never have been.
And, likely, never will be.

But I was awake while you were sleeping.
And I wanted to tell you
that I liked lying awake
next to you.


Another older one I thought I’d bring to live here.

No Signal

Your lack of effort tells me more
Than your behavior when we’re near
Convenience and boredom have a funny way of acting like interest
And it leaves me frustrated and cold
When all I want’s a little warm


An old poem from I wanted to give a new home here on this blog.

On Knowing Nothing

Said the nearly-30-year-old female

It’s weird. Since graduating from college in 2009, I have been very adamant, and very vocal, that I do not want to go back to school. Ever.

I firmly believe that as human-type non-cylon persons (I just started watching Battlestar Galactica! Cool!) we should strive to never stop learning. But actually going to school is distinctly different to me.

First of all. Oi with the expensiveness of it all! There is no possible way I (and many many many other human-types) can afford an education without taking out loans. Loans are a mythic beast of vast proportions. Their scaly wings mercilessly beat the stifling air above you, made so by their fiery, interest-laden breath. To fell such a creature takes years, and nearly all of your available income. To willingly chain this beast to you and your bank account is not for the weak of spirit or faint of heart. Which is why I have been the most reluctant of knights when considering continuing my education more formally.

Me, academically speaking. Or…financially, anyway.

Next, I’ve put in my time. While I did not attend preschool because, psh, I attended the legally required 13 years of elementary/high school and then elected to put in an extra 4 going to a private college. That’s a lot of learning. Mostly I went to college because it felt like the thing I had to do to be successful, but, truth be told, I had absolutely no f*cking idea what I wanted to learn to be successful at. (Certainly not how to avoid ending a sentence with a preposition. Sit on it!)

I decided studio art was the way to go because I enjoyed it enough and didn’t fully suck at it. But I wasn’t particularly great or skilled at it any of the studio disciplines. And yes, I was an art student at a private Catholic college. I know! What was I thinking?!

College was much more about learning to be social for me and to not get in my own way on the personal growth front. That was lovely! If it weren’t for college, I’d probably still cry with anxiety when told, “We’re going ice skating!” instead of thinking, “Okay, let’s give it a go!” Yes. Yes that really did happen. I am in a much better place now, thank you.

For years now, people have encouraged me to go back to school, take a few classes here and there, blah blah blah. I violently, and physically rejected each suggestion. “How dare they! Don’t they know that costs money?? Takes time? And would mean I’d actually have to have some idea of what I want to do with my life?! The nerve!”

But now, rounding that corner to the big 3-Oh, I think I finally know what it is I want to learn. I think I finally have an area of interest that will inspire me to, you know, apply myself and actually maybe even sort of learn something!

So, I’m going to go back to school. Not full-time, mind, but taking a few communications classes here and there to test the waters and discover how little I actually know. Fun!

It’s never too late to learn inside or outside a classroom. And yes, I did have take out a loan. And no, they wouldn’t approve it unless my mom co-signed (my life is a shambles!). And if this does turn out to be my calling I foresee many more loans in my future. You didn’t know I was also a gifted psychic, now did you?

So here’s to learning! It’s never a waste, even if it cost you near about $40,000 a year to learn how not to be a socially anxious ball of mess! Here’s to doing it on your own terms even if that means returning almost 7 years later after many a “hell no!” and “f*ck that!”

Is very very very hungry.

Time to go kick some academic ass!