Alone
Along she wanders, a leaf
dangling from her fingertips
Wishing for the life that awaits her,
Not wanting to let go of the past
that clings to desperately
This is, after all, the same woods
The same trees, the same footsteps
But the feelings are all different
She feels like a stranger in this place.
An intruder.
So she leaves it all behind
Even the leaf, a helpless strand
The only link between her and her past.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Lovall Commercial
A pharmaceutical ad for a wide spectrum solution for homophobia, sexism, agism, racism and religious intolerance.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Expressions of Love and Loss
Bruises
My lips are bruised.
My fingers are raw.
I can still feel your hands burning up my back
and digging into my curls,
Searching for something to hold on to,
to ground you.
My thighs burn.
My ribs ache from where you held me.
I can see my bite on your lower lip,
turning bright red from passion and pain.
I can feel the heat of your breath on my neck,
Searching for something to ground you.
I can feel the drive behind your shoulders as I cling to you.
I feel my entire body seizing up,
not wanting to let go,
For fear that we may have to go back to our realities.
Hurt
So much hurts in the world today.
Distrust, people not believing that you have worked as hard as you really have.
Dismissal, having a need to let go of those whom you love.
Loss, a knowledge that there is something missing that you will never get back.
Questioning, wondering why things can't just be simple.
Wondering if my life will work out like I so hope it will.
Feeling the pain constantly,
When I wake up.
When I go to sleep.
Constantly missing the warmth of your body next to mine.
Craving your hands filtering through my hair.
Your lips pressed against my shoulder blades.
There's so much hurt that my body is filled with it.
It pours out of my skin and creates a gaping void.
I wish I could figure out our lives so I could avoid the pain.
But it's impossible...and I just keep coming back for it all.
Confusion
Do you actually want this like I do?
I can feel the passion and questions humming from your body.
I can see it in your eyes...
You want me, but you don't want to change for it.
You still want me to chase after you.
But when I do, you back away.
I can feel the fear behind you not answering the phone.
I can't put my finger on it,
But I know you don't really want this.
Why is my only question.
I can't figure out how so much can change over four hours.
And I'm left...
Continually questioning.
My lips are bruised.
My fingers are raw.
I can still feel your hands burning up my back
and digging into my curls,
Searching for something to hold on to,
to ground you.
My thighs burn.
My ribs ache from where you held me.
I can see my bite on your lower lip,
turning bright red from passion and pain.
I can feel the heat of your breath on my neck,
Searching for something to ground you.
I can feel the drive behind your shoulders as I cling to you.
I feel my entire body seizing up,
not wanting to let go,
For fear that we may have to go back to our realities.
Hurt
So much hurts in the world today.
Distrust, people not believing that you have worked as hard as you really have.
Dismissal, having a need to let go of those whom you love.
Loss, a knowledge that there is something missing that you will never get back.
Questioning, wondering why things can't just be simple.
Wondering if my life will work out like I so hope it will.
Feeling the pain constantly,
When I wake up.
When I go to sleep.
Constantly missing the warmth of your body next to mine.
Craving your hands filtering through my hair.
Your lips pressed against my shoulder blades.
There's so much hurt that my body is filled with it.
It pours out of my skin and creates a gaping void.
I wish I could figure out our lives so I could avoid the pain.
But it's impossible...and I just keep coming back for it all.
Confusion
Do you actually want this like I do?
I can feel the passion and questions humming from your body.
I can see it in your eyes...
You want me, but you don't want to change for it.
You still want me to chase after you.
But when I do, you back away.
I can feel the fear behind you not answering the phone.
I can't put my finger on it,
But I know you don't really want this.
Why is my only question.
I can't figure out how so much can change over four hours.
And I'm left...
Continually questioning.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
How Not to be Popular
Here's an instructional video on how to avoid becoming popular in a new school. Based on Jennifer Ziegler's book "How Not to be Popular."
Monday, February 11, 2008
Poetic Turns on Life
The Worst Decision
The reality is, I'm already attached.
Beyond my control are the feelings inside.
Grief, unworthiness, betrayal, helplessness.
A tiny life has cut us off at the knees without either of us knowing it.
An incessant voice screaming into the heady air.
A pinprick of doubt and hope battling against each other where I run.
Curiosity intermingling with my heartbeat and nerves throbbing.
Wondering why I have demanded something to be only black or white.
So why go on?
Let it be cut off at the knees.
Untitled
Here I am wishing I wasn't grasping blindly along
for something never there.
He's made a living dazzling and eluding
to the point that his crafted truth is my reality.
Rampant insecurity ravaging any hope I had
for secured love and soul mates.
I hate that it takes up my time and heart
so I can't escape from my own doubts and insecurities.
Rape
Why, as women, do we love that which has the ability to destroy everything we are?
We devote ourselves to following our desires to those who don't understand us.
We sacrifice our femininity and individuality
for just a glimpse of what our lives could be.
We pay penance waiting for a sign that will come to make us feel less foolish.
And in the end, we give ourselves up to the rape that we are subjected to by the men we love so much.
Undecided
I cannot figure if it is a yes or a no,
If it is an interest or a passing fancy,
Or if it even exists.
I pay attention, as always,
Feeling slighted at the slightest glance.
I cannot help it,
It is my nature.
I will forever be a jealous romantic.
Drowning my sorrows in the honey
Of a nectar of which is forbidden to me.
Why true love can never come to me, I will never know.
But this be it so,
Till my last breath.
The reality is, I'm already attached.
Beyond my control are the feelings inside.
Grief, unworthiness, betrayal, helplessness.
A tiny life has cut us off at the knees without either of us knowing it.
An incessant voice screaming into the heady air.
A pinprick of doubt and hope battling against each other where I run.
Curiosity intermingling with my heartbeat and nerves throbbing.
Wondering why I have demanded something to be only black or white.
So why go on?
Let it be cut off at the knees.
Untitled
Here I am wishing I wasn't grasping blindly along
for something never there.
He's made a living dazzling and eluding
to the point that his crafted truth is my reality.
Rampant insecurity ravaging any hope I had
for secured love and soul mates.
I hate that it takes up my time and heart
so I can't escape from my own doubts and insecurities.
Rape
Why, as women, do we love that which has the ability to destroy everything we are?
We devote ourselves to following our desires to those who don't understand us.
We sacrifice our femininity and individuality
for just a glimpse of what our lives could be.
We pay penance waiting for a sign that will come to make us feel less foolish.
And in the end, we give ourselves up to the rape that we are subjected to by the men we love so much.
Undecided
I cannot figure if it is a yes or a no,
If it is an interest or a passing fancy,
Or if it even exists.
I pay attention, as always,
Feeling slighted at the slightest glance.
I cannot help it,
It is my nature.
I will forever be a jealous romantic.
Drowning my sorrows in the honey
Of a nectar of which is forbidden to me.
Why true love can never come to me, I will never know.
But this be it so,
Till my last breath.
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