She’s Just Not a Keeper

Shes just not a keeper

of old cards

and notes

Or of trinkets

from the past

She lets go

and tucks away

the memories from a long time ago place

With only little recognition of a face

Shes just not a keeper of

tears and lies

Of sad excuses and black eyes

Of what if’s and goodbyes

Old pictures and songs

Mean very little

When they no longer belong

She’s just not a keeper

Of anger and hatred

Or cruel intentions 

In fact she’s just not a keeper 

of honorable mentions 

Shes just not a keeper of inconsistency

Nor of others who hurt people willfully

Of those who don’t know how to be friends 

Or shallow people who cant make amends

And in the end

She’s just not a keeper of bad things at all

Her list

She made a list once

Of the things that needed to be taken care of

When she wasn’t here any more

Who to call

and contact

and lean on

All the information needed

in the finality of life

And then she learned

about another lady who made a list

Much like hers

And she realized that it was

not the time for her list

So she tucked it away

Hoping and knowing

time heals

and mends

and changes

and sometimes it’s not good

to make lists like hers

 

 

I don’t know how to let you go

I don’t know how to let you go.

Your little face isn’t in the window when I get home. I don’t have to block the door from you getting out and I am still practicing that habit. No one wakes me up at 1, 3 or 5 am. And when 5 am rolls around I lay in bed and listen to the vast quietness of the house. No headbutts against the bathroom door in the middle of the night any more. I never understood what you thought you needed in there anyway 🙂 I washed your blankets and they are in the place where you slept by my bed because….

I don’t know how to let you go

No more every mornings, nights or every day. No more routine that was ours. My coffee, your medicine and special breakfast that you became accustomed to and even bugged me for. It didn’t matter if I slept 2 hours or 6, when it was you, I was up. I never got upset even if you got me up 5 times in 3 hours.

I don’t know how to let you go

No one to catch what falls or bark at nothing in the backyard. No cold nose or dirty peets on my clean floors. No more bad breath. You were such a smart boy, T-R-E-A-T-S, you sat, shook hands, turned in circles, begged, laid down and even said I Love You…you are our treat boy.

My heart aches for you….so much. The king of my castle, my constant, my unconditional love. I talk about you as much as I can because it just doesn’t feel right without you. Your sissy misses you too. We laugh at the silly and happy times. Your outfits, which I am sure you cussed us out for more than once. About you licking the furniture or hitting the old door with so much force that it would bow the metal door and you would catch your leg. You were my 150 lb attitude boy in a 17 lb body. Like angry bees and a rotten little alligator that used to wrestle for hours.  Squirrel chaser and cat hunter…those damn cats. The little whiny baby (sissy called you), the one that slept in the crate by my head and some how ended up in my bed. My little love who loved to nap on the couch with me or with sis when she was sick.

We don’t know how to let you go

For all the countless days you loved us even when we weren’t at our best. For the nights we shared in the kitchen, you know the ones. For being my other child and loving me even when I didn’t love myself. And for making sure Ashley and I were okay in this last part of your journey with us. For all of this and so much more we will be forever grateful…..but I still don’t know how to let you go.

I will look for you always….I love you every, every day

Our Pure Imagination boy.

My uppy.

Buster ❤

November 9, 2003 ❤ November 13, 2017

Sadness and absence

Sadness and absence…..a wise women whispered to me in a soft voice “If they don’t notice your sadness…they wont notice your absence” That bitch!! I hate when I talk to myself and it makes sense and resonates. I have hardly invested in what I love and that’s the written word, my words….its time. I have been invited to a writing circle of women. They have no fucking idea what they get with me…as Don Julio whispers in my ear ….WRITE ON! Here I am. I am going to go for it….This is what I love…I am not looking to make money at what I do, it feeds my soul, so I am rich beyond words.

So I have recently realized that people will not always treat you as you treat them, I learn this lesson on a regular. I get my feelings hurt….yep…soft heart…forgiving heart. And I say nothing, if I do I am a piece of shit or over thinking or wanting too much. How sad….I ask for very little, but way too much. I have been starving my soul caring for everyone else in my life. I am back at the gym after a long break….I want yoga again…and that damn wanderlust shit is  back again. That makes me happy….so many places call my name. There is so much left to see and so many people to meet.

So let’s go back….when they don’t notice your sad, will they notice you’re absent. Maybe for  a little while and then they will move on and you will become like the others….a memory. Oh she was this or that, we did this or that or one time….you will no longer matter. The shit is too heavy to carry on my own. I am sad….absence is such a heavy word.

So random with tequila…

 

Tuesday of my life

Checking out or checking in

It’s always about making everyone happy, they push and pull

Demand and guilt

until the branch snaps

I am tired of living like this

I know it sounds childish, but “what about me”

It’s always been easy to be seen and not heard

To run and hide

I desire very little and it avoids me like the plague

The brother who calls when he needs his bills paid or a ride to the airport

The Mother….I have no words other than she tries

The partner who loves me but chose another body above me

My bed, the only safe refuge I have right now, my room, alone

Sometimes I sleep on his side of the bed to try to get next to him

I am not even sure he would call it his side

My daughter, my sweet baby, who is a grown woman

Depression?? No. Unhappy? can’t run and hide from that

So where do I start to fix the broken branch?

Welcome to the Tuesday of my life….

Whatever…..

Some things never change….

I don’t know if all women are the same as me, but when you ask for something several times and it doesn’t happen you either stop caring or do it yourself if thats the situation.

So today I will look for a handyman to fix a few things for me

too bad he can’t fix hurt feelings, broken trust or loneliness

I suppose of everything in life I have learned it’s that at the end of the day the only person you can count on is yourself. Mostly everyone hurts and lies…at least in the world I live in.

I am tired…..

 

Solace in Words

Words are the only place I can find solace.

When my heart hurts, when life is hard and yes, even when its the best. This is the only place I know to come. They save me from certain destruction…they also celebrate my greatest joys with me.

I am lost lately. I seek to feed my soul and this is the only way I know how, yet recently it isn’t enough. I know when things aren’t right in my life, intuition, and lately I chose to ignore it, only for it to come to light later. I know that I should listen when something tells me there is more to what is before me. You see I have always listened to the words that aren’t spoken and I pay very careful attention to those around me. More often than not they think that I am naive to the situation but I am not. Thus hurt feelings and second guessing my worth to those individuals. Enough? Imagine that…..

Sleepless nights turn into drug out days…random tears, fake smiles. It’s so easy to hide in front of people. When I am alone at night my demons come out to play. They put in my face everything I have put off, everything I hide. I have a habit of seeking temporary happiness in material items. Things that aren’t necessary. Then comes guilt and shame. It’s not often that I do this because I have a tendency to take better care of those around than taking care of myself. It’s just easier.

So here I am…functioning on maybe three hours of sleep, knowing something is off right now….and waiting for it to show up.

 

Loneliness

As she puts the key in the door

he is there to greet her

The silence is deafening

but its the language they speak

He shares her meals with her

in their comfortable

and uncomfortable

existence

And accompanies her throughout her day

at home

She finds him in the darkest

and deepest

part of the night

His cold embrace is what greets her

at the end of the day

She knows it well

He occupies the opposite side

of the bed

She whispers to him

and he quietly listens

He knows her greatest

fears

desires

and secrets

“He” is loneliness

and she knows him well

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