It’s the beat I can feel in my chest,
Pounding, 1234 against my breastbone.
It’s an itch that I feel in my fingertips
Vibrating there. Annoying me. Pestering me. Reminding me.
And I am desperate to scratch it.
Like jumping off a cliff.
Like diving in the deep end and staying under.
It’s a golden apple hanging.
It’s pots and pans banging,
Cymbals in my ear.
That leaves a ringing, that is
Ever so persistent.
Like a itch I can’t scratch
Can’t slap away
Can’t fly away
Can’t leave the ground
Or climb these walls
Or figure it out…
So instead, I pace.
I pace tracks in a circle, in a circle, in a circle.
I’m a caged cat. A caged brown eyed cat
My shoulders rolling back
and forth. And back and forth.
Because its like I have an itch I can’t scratch, a song I can’t hear. An apple I can’t taste.
and I can feel it in my fingertips.
Only, it’s not humming now, it’s screaming and
I’m just a lost girl.
Looking for somewhere to run.
you and I
are not about poems or
other sentimental bullshit
but I have to tell you
even the way
you drink your coffee
knocks me the fuck out.
Sometimes, I imagine you an empty chello.
Dark and quiet, just waiting for the slightest touch to make you sing.
And you do sing.
Low and sorrowful. You sing a song about distance and being lonely. Something about a river, and a sinking stone. Something about the bottom on an empty bottle. Something about making me sway and a turned off telephone.
If I were to imagine myself, I’d imagine myself out of key. Forever frantically trying to fall into a beat I can’t catch, can’t match, tripping over this crack, or
my feet. Or..
something you said.
You and I together, we’re supposed to be the instrument and the musician. Breathing as one, I’m supposed to be mesmerized by you. Captivated. Motivated. Crazy about you. Burning for your touch. Pressing my ear against that empty f-note cut out of yours, and losing myself in the things you sing to me.
Empty caverns. A walking bass. A harmonic scale. A dusty bar. Smoke drifting around my head. 2 am. Crickets. Laughter, romance, friendship. Sharing the moon with you (goodnight moon). Holding the line together. Holding hands. Red lipstick, leather mini skirts and a blue flannel.
And yet, I find that when I press my ear against that empty f-note cut out, I can hear nothing…
Why don’t you tell me?
Why can’t it be easy?
Spring has burst into full bloom here in Colorado. I celebrated my anniversary with my darling husband in late March. I’m working on getting the house back into tip top shape for July. Crossfit still keeps me sane. I am…
currently out of school. And thinking about joining the National Guard for tuition assistance. They give you the Montgomery GI, plus tuition assistance, PLUS previous tuition forgiveness and a monthly stipend. You still have Tricare available to you and life insurance.
All you have to do is sign away your soul. Lol.
School is soooo expensive. Aaron doesn’t have to worry about student loans, but by the time I graduate, I’ll have enough student debt for the both of us. Literally, the equivalent of an entire house purchase. We’re trying to plan for the future and when we do decide to start a family, I want to make my family my first priority. I don’t want to be swimming in debt for the rest of my life. I suppose if an opportunity arises where I can alleviate that problem, I would be stupid to not take it.
Also, since I haven’t been writing, my spelling is terrible. Terrible! But since my computer has been moved to the living room, mom is always reading over my shoulder and it drives me batty. I can’t WAIT until July and I have my husband and my house back.
I’m going to start running every day! (help me)
I’m sounding enthused because I’m crying inside and I hate running!
I recognize the benefits of having a good steady endurance thing going on, PLUS I can look like this:
And that would be pretty cool in my opinion. Strong is better than skinny, yes. I’m doing the strength. But it would be nice to actually see my progress in another place other than on the board.