mysterious: a limerick.

no sleep.

mysterious.
Many nights I lie awake sleepless
Because you keep too many secrets
I’m tired of guessing
Thoughts you’re repressing
Your silence is your greatest weakness

 

Mind and Life Matters limerick poetry challenge.
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b is for best.

#atozchallenge

best.

b is for best.

I was wrong to invest
so much in everyone else.
It should have been far less
because you are the best.


Posted as part of the A to Z challenge — a letter a day throughout the month of April (except Sundays) until we reach z. My theme is small.
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a is for ant.

#atozchallenge

dreaming.

a is for ant. 

When I was a little girl I dreamt the strangest things
Like the tiger locked with me in my mother’s car
Oh, he scared me but never attacked
(Maybe this was the product
Of my love for Tony and his Frosted Flakes)

As a young woman not locked in with a beast
Rather locked out with no key
Could not open my locker or my dorm room door
(Maybe this was a sign of the futility
Of attempts to recapture my youth)

The weirdest of my dreams still haunts me today
I pull aside the curtain and find to my horror
A gigantic ant the size of the entire bathtub
(Maybe this is the reason
To this very day I hate picnics)


Posted as part of the A to Z challenge — a letter a day throughout the month of April (except Sundays) until we reach z. My theme is small.
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fiction friday 19: the massage. (part 2)

fiction friday.


The Massage… I hope you enjoy Part 2 of the story. If you missed it, here’s Part 1

Continue reading
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weekly perk. #10

weekly perk.
This space is reserved for happy, positive things. I wasn’t sure what to write here this week… which is ironic because I feel good. I could come up with reasons I’m feeling this way, but I don’t want to overthink it. The worries I’ve had for months are still in my head. If I analyze the crap out of my mood, I may ruin it!

workspace.But how is it that in sadness or anger, I seem to be able to find something perky to write about yet today, feeling good, I’ve got nothing? Maybe because I force myself when I feel crappy? I don’t know. But I’m smiling. And I still need something to write.

So… I went back and read my first ever weekly perk post. Then I jumped all over my blog reading random older posts. All kinds – poetry, fiction, my life… whatever. And I realized something.

I am a genius!

[Insert laughter here.] What I mean is… I read some posts that were kind of amazing. I kept thinking I wrote this? I’m funny sometimes. And I’ve written some beautiful poetry (still feels weird to say that). And although I’m still pretty sure I enjoy reading my own fiction more than anyone else does, I love it anyway.

Maybe none of you will click a single link, but these are a few of my favorite older posts (well, mostly older… some are kind of recent). Maybe you’ve already read them because you were following me back then… or because the moment you found me, you went back and read my every brilliant word.

But if you haven’t, maybe you’ll enjoy some of these posts… which I have conveniently categorized for your reading pleasure.

From my life
love across the ocean.

Romantic Fiction
when she knew.
I wanted you to kiss me.

Poetry
reflection.
with you.
the feeling.
caged.

Mature Poetry
cursed.
try it on.

Mature Fiction
one day… from sleep to sleep.
fiction friday #8
dessert first.
letter never sent.

divider dots.

And sometimes… all the time, really… what makes my day isn’t what I write at all. It’s what you write in our conversations in the comments. Thank you all.

Stay perky, my friends. But not so much that I vomit on my new sandals.
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imperfection.

ruins.

You told me I was perfect
I adored those words
Because to me they meant
Perfect for you
But I was wrong
It was the beginning of our end
The pedestal you built for me
Was too high off the ground
I could not live up to perfect
Could you? Could anyone?
You say you never expected that
But clearly you did –
Because when a single brick
Crumbled to the ground
You pushed me off
Tossed me aside
And ran in the other direction
Maybe we were on the wrong road
And we needed course correction
Every path cannot lead to our destiny
So my journey continues
And I am content with imperfection
But I confess I do wonder
If you found a new statue to worship
Maybe she is your perfect
Until she too crumbles

branch.

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music man.

A little something fun. Feeling a little playful. Hope it makes you smile.

guitar.

I think you know my secrets
At least one or two of them
My poorly veiled weaknesses
That make me a slave to men

Not all men – just special ones
The writers and the artists
They have power over me
But not like the guitarists

Something about musicians
Seduces me every time
Sleeves pushed up and forearms bare
Guitar in hand, eyes on mine

If he sings for me, I’m done
All worked up and in the mood
And maybe I should mention
I adore bass players, too

what sandra thinks swish.


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ghost.

grave.

I have a secret
I took to my grave
I wish I had
Confessed to you
What I held in silence
Because
You should know
I love you
I have always loved you
And I never told you
Now I am gone
From your world
But I float around you
Watching and listening
A ghost of myself
Hearing your words
Feeling your tears
Inside my intangible heart
And now I know
You loved me
You have always loved me
But you never told me
Because I never told you

wilted.

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