Wet Confessions

I sit here with tear kissed cheeks and worn out eyes.

To weak to pick up the phone to let you see me as I truly am.

Betrayed by my own attached hands wondering when they got so far away.

I've spent so many years trying to find myself that I've lost track of who I really am.

I sit here with tear kissed cheeks and a unrecognizable face.

I am lost, broken, thrown away...

I am you.

Just some Monday ranting from a ranter...

The beginning of another week. A new start to a day that resembles so many I've seen in my life. Mondays aren't depressing for me, though I can see how they could be viewed that way.

I sip my coffee (third today) and contemplate my mood. What can be said to describe my block/lack of written word?

My cat licks my hand as I attempt to type, it tickles despite the rough scratchiness that comes along...ah the simple life of a feline...

It's silent where I sit as I am too lazy to choose another song I've heard so many times before, anyways. I would be lying if I said I felt like myself today so I won't be saying anything of that sort, period.

Gotta love these beautiful spring days that consist of the weather guy promising snow...proudly Canadian but currently wanting to bitch slap mother nature in her big fat face.

*goes to warm up coffee*

Do you know that feeling, the one where no matter what you try to do, you're bored... That feeling and I are best friends today!

Perhaps I'll do some reading...that never fails to help you temporarily vanish into someone else's mind, however fictional it may be...

Happy monday to all!!

I Tasted Todays Tears

So, it is Friday afternoon and I've escaped the clammy grasp of work. 

My shopping is complete and all things are where they should be.

There's something to be said about the cliche of drinking hot substances while loosing yourself in a window;  love the sky when it cries.

And though my pants are soaked through, my jacket forced to befriend my dryer and my hair forced back to it's natural way (curly) ...I love these days.

To frolic aimlessly in the black and white mess...

So consistent, so comforting.

Oh, how I love these gloomy Friday's!

Crumpled Up Memories

*Author's note*

I found this scrunched up in a little ball in a hidden pocket of my winter coat, I hope to soon stash away....

I like to write down what I feel as I feel it and can be seen pulling out my little handy note pad at some of the weirdest times.... based on the context and the way I wrote it.... assuming a bar.

"I met the woman at a bar; potential mom I would want, never had. Abused, Aquarius; ME in more ways then one.

Smile like every-thing's good, hidden pain....I want to adopt her.... sad!"

Not signed.... Just ending with a simple....

Christmas /08

I laugh at the simplicity of what was written but want to cry at the need to have written it at all....

That woman had told me her story, on a cold December night.

I felt more of a bond with that stranger then I do my own mother yet I say that with regret NOT bitterness!! 

Wilted Petals

If all dreams are meant to mean something, to show us signs from our subconscious.... why is it that we rarely ever remember them?

And if we by chance do, why must we resemble a being on speed or any other substance that allows one to hurry, to remember; analyze....?

I dreamt of flowers

they smelt of chocolate and sweat milk

so enjoyable to be around, you could almost taste them....

And so I took from that bright petal

to taste what I was so certain my tongue would love;

so sure my nose would not betray me....

Trust

Faith

Hope.... disappointment.

What looked soft, hurt my teeth....

salty like tears.

What smelt sweet made my lips quiver;

and then I saw it for what it was,

not sweet, soft nor beautiful!

It was you who appeared

I saw you then for the first time,

as you are...

Colorless, bitter and old....

Love can be as blind as dreams sometimes....