You and Me

When I think of you,
It's not roses and puppies,
Not diamonds and sunsets.

When I think of you,
It's not cookies and ice cream,
Not mansions and kissing in the rain.

There is no swell of music,
No zoom in, pan across face;
It's not a fairytale.

When I think of you,
It's old hats and yarn,
Lap sitting and loud laughing.

When I think of you,
It's mac n cheese and french fries,
A first kiss, a new direction.

I can smell your clothes against my nose,
Feel your beard as your lips brush my forehead.
It may not be a fairytale, but it's a dream in motion.

So don't bring me flowers or buy me houses,
Just kiss my cheek, move my hair,
And settle in for a love that's priceless.

Revising A List

1. Take a strip of photobooth pictures with a loved one; one of them a kiss
2. Surprise someone with a romantic picnic on the livingroom floor
3. Be kissed breathless, out of nowhere, with no warning or baiting [CHECK]
4. Be kissed in an elevator
5. Dance in the rain
6. Song lyrics in my ear [CHECK]
7. Have someone push the curls out of my face [CHECK]
8. Have the first time someone tells me they love me be special, not just a fleeting thought [CHECK]
9. A Harry Met Sally list moment
10. Spend a whole day in bed without sex
11. Feel like someone can't keep their hands off me [CHECK]
12. Let someone make me feel beautiful [CHECK]
13. Hot air balloon- even though they scare me
14. "Manda, just shut up and kiss me."
15. Sing to someone and mean every word. [CHECK]

Wow.....7 in less than a month. Life is... wow.

Well, Here We Go Again... But not really

So I'm diving back into something I swore up and down I wouldn't get involved with anymore. Dating.

This last relationship was so.... tiring.

Taking care of two people who didn't really love me but expected me to act and be a certain way was exhausting. So exhausting.

And I wasn't perfect. I was unhappy and yet clinging desperately to the feeling of being someone's mother. I let myself get swept up in emotion, in sadness, in busy work and then in the pure feeling of being numb. None of these were healthy, not for me, not for them.

And then it was over. And I felt nothing.

It was like the life was sucked out of me. I tried to act, smile, talk, walk, laugh like I always did. But it felt flat. Like someone took a fork and stabbed me, letting all the air out.

I had no passion for anything. Music was noise, words were just mindless babble, TV was just a distraction, books were unimportant. And getting a job... was like a legend of olden times.

I didn't want to do anything, but I dragged myself to what I had to. The play, the roommate wants to interact, family wants to get together, friends come to town. Nothing.

I felt nothing.

It was... comfortable.



When it snapped it was.... not so comfortable.

It's like I felt everything at once. And that everything turned into a burn so bad that I didn't know how to help myself.



And then a friend was there for me, as he always was... but I started to feel it. And I started to climb out of the fire pressing my chest.

No, I'm not over the loss of a little girl I almost considered my own.

But I do see life goes on.

And with that eye opening revelation, I let myself open up again.

Someone took notice.

He thought "Wow, look at her." Or something like that.

And we became closer. Friends, even.

And then it turned into something else.

Someone wants to be with me..... without expecting me to take care of them?

Without expecting me to change for them?

Without expecting me to apologize?

Without expecting me to clean, cook, bathe, look after, tend to blah blah blah?

Someone wants me? As I am? As a person, not a maid or an unpaid babysitter?

Me?

The fat, lazy, stupid, uninspired, loud, obnoxious, obvious, oblivious, strange, damaged me?

Is he crazy?

I was pretty sure.

But then I started to want him.

He was smart.

He was funny.

He was shy and sweet but bold when he realized that I was nervous.

He had personality, responsibility.

He was loving.

So I'm giving him a chance.

And I can't help these thoughts in the edge of my mind.

Maybe the fat isn't so bad as long as I strive for health.

Maybe I can do something worth while with my life.

Maybe stupidity is just idleness.

Maybe the inspiration can be made.

Maybe I'm not loud, just playful.

Maybe someone actually cares what I think and say.

Maybe the strangeness is just personality.

Maybe the damage can be repaired.

Maybe the ugly I see so blatantly is just soot colored glasses left over from the past.

Maybe I can make it better.

Maybe I'm not a burden but someone that can hope to contribute.

Well hello, Self-Esteem.

So nice of you to join us. And on such short notice, too.

They're there, peeking around the corner. But at the same time, the other thoughts are looming too.

I'm not good enough for him.

I fuck up everything I touch.

I'm useless.

No one could want me once they get to know me

It's a work in progress.

I think the fact that I'm even writing this is a testament to my brain trying to handle its current healing process.

Let's hope this road is a good one.

Let's hope I don't fuck it up.

Let's hope I get it a chance to come to bloom on its own.

No miracle grow.... I'll take my chances with the seeds and the water.

I never knew

That in the arms

Of a man that cares

I could find

The strength in myself

To mend the holes

And fix the tears

Its not the crutch

Or leaning on him that does it

It's knowing

That if it gets too heavy

I have someone to dig me out

It's late.

Goodnight, self.

Interlude

It starts, simple touches,
Symbols crashing with every move, every breath,
A tempest blaring, swaying from left to right to wrong,
I rise, I fall, I move, I hide.
I live, I love, I survive to see your face again another day.
This cuts into everything, revealing the twinkle of a thousand stars
They loom, they brighten.
And so it all builds, up and up
Mounting in to a head of terrible ecstasy for life, for each caress
A painful longing for just another look, another touch
My mind is unknowing, unmarked, confused.
And yet it blows on, ideas falling from every limb of new emotion.
I want to thank you, to show you,
To let you feel some small portion of my own joy
And yet I feel unremarkable, unable to give it to you.
Or maybe selfish.
Maybe scared.
Afraid this dreadful wind will stop.
The bell rings and all I see is your face.
And that’s alright with me.

Changes In Reflection- Older Poetry

When I was little
I played by a pond
The most beautiful pond I could know.

I played princess and traveler,
Made stories of love,
The fantasies oh so real.

When I was little,
I thought a kiss was the end,
The story need not go any further.

I thought it was to meet,
To fall, to love, to kiss.
The end, no more

When I grew older,
I kept my hopes,
Thinking a kiss could solve it all.

I dreamt and I waited,
Knowing it had to be so.
Just a kiss and that's all I would need.

When I grew older,
I found out the truth.
A kiss is not the fix.

I opened my eyes,
Took a good look around.
And realized there is so much more than a kiss.

But when I was little,
I played by a pond.
The most beautiful pond I could know.

I returned to that pond,
Looked around it once more,
And realized it was all just a dream.

Untitled Poem and The Poet follow up

The poet knelt in the sand,
Her eyes on the grains as they slipped away.
And she knew, feeling the softness contrast
The coarseness she knew could be,
That her fears were validated
By the simplicity of regret.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



The poet drew the line in the sand;
Connecting it to another.
She knew where it began
But not where it was to end.

And so she followed the line,
Searching for the other.
She went through heat,
Through snow and weather violent.

The end never seemed to come,
Her dimming hopes having enough.
With feet so tired, eyes so weary,
How could the gentle poet go on?

So she sank; in spirit, in body,
Her knees hitting sand so rough.
Head falling, hanging in defeat;
And in her despair, the poet missed the gleam.

Tiny... Itty Bitty Ranty Thing.

It frustrates me. No... Strike that. It infuriates me.

People have sex. That's not what upsets me so much. Your body is your own and you are free to do whatever and whomever you wish.

What pisses me off is when people have sex... and suddenly your body isn't just yours anymore.

It's yours and that tiny baby's.

What you eat, you and your baby eat together.

What you drink, you and your baby eat together.

What you SMOKE, you and your baby SMOKE together.

What you inject into yourself, you are injecting into you AND YOUR BABY.

And that's only the beginning. As much as that frustrates me, what happens after breaks my heart.

That baby is born. That baby is brought into this world out of the supposed 'safety' of it's mothers womb.

And it is not treated with the love, the protection, the respect and the adoration it deserves.

And that baby is kept in this world, surrounded by people who do not treat it as a child, but as a burden.


I'm not just talking about drugs.

Any kind of parenting that is LESS than everything you can give is unacceptable.

And by less, I don't mean perfect twenty four-seven. But ready to grow, learn, adapt and change.




All of that.... is something that infuriates me.

Now ready for something that crushes me?

I would treat that child... not like a gift, not like a burden... but a human being. My child would be the center of my universe, the center of my vision, the center of my future. Because there is nothing more important, more large, more.... overwhelming... than being a parent.

I see that.

I see it so clearly.

So why am I the one that has to watch people who don't deserve the title "Parent" from the sidelines?


Fuck it.