Saturday, February 25, 2012


Daffodils stretch their new limbs
Resolutely slice
Through sheets of mushy maple leaves.

Saturday, February 18, 2012


Scars are newborn skin
Like babies they begin
Red, strange, and needy –

Years pass, scars blend in
Assimilate with older lines
They stop drinking from our breasts
But we never forget their birthdays.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

PS - Whitney Houston

She was one of my idols. As a kid I spent countless hours locked in my room, passionately belting her hits to a rapt stuffed animal audience. I'm not usually affected by the deaths of celebrities, but tonight I feel as though I've lost a childhood friend. This week people will gossip about Whitney's drug use, her failed marriage to Bobby Brown (whom I also adore without shame), and speculate about the scandalous lifestyle that surely caused her death. But I will think about how Whitney taught me to sing, to dance, to deal, and to dream.

Checking for Vital Signs/A Tally

Notes to Self
As I get older, I lose some and I gain some:


The music I grew up with is now featured on oldies stations, and the voices I love keep dying - Michael,

Whitney - who will be next? Shoot me if Prince dies.

Where did all my friends go? When I was 21 my address book was filled with dozens of names I could rely on for a good time. Now a good time consists of a Breaking Bad marathon with Husband and a bag of Oreos in bed. Don't get me wrong - I adore Husband (and Oreos for that matter), but sometimes I wish I had someone to call and talk to about girlie things.

Time - I miss having the time to stay up until 5 AM and sleep in until 4 PM. I haven't done this in years, and I probably wouldn't do it even if I had the time, but I'd still like to know that I could if I wanted to again.


I spent an hour plucking out my white hairs a few days ago. Some of these gains suck.

I've gained a deeper respect and adoration for my parents.

As I grow older, my lexicon expands and I find I finally have the right words to describe my fears.

Likewise, time has given me the balls to articulate those fears.

Sometimes I feel beautiful. I never felt that way in my teens or early twenties. I like this feeling. It's a feeling that does not depend on anyone's gaze or approval.

Vital Signs

I look forward to having children. I see them in my dreams and I can't wait to meet them.

Tenaciously I hold on to those who love me. There aren't many people who truly love me, even at my ugliest. I want to keep them.