tired and dirty ❤️
Was hoping I would want to write more when I arrived but it seems as though I’m still just caught in the ocean of some strange tide.
However, happy I did not surprise anyone because really that was a ghost from a former life I should not have ever wasted a thought on. I think I’ve always known I had no loyalty to seek there. Being so busy now, it’s just exhausting expelling my energy on mummified peach seeds that once brought comfort. Plus, I’ve learned a lot about love since then. I want the kind, that just fits. If it’ll have me eventually that is.
Suppose that’s growth or me seeking more fun in my life? Who knows?
I’m gunning for more unsolicited adventures in my life, what a riot just little pit stops were even
Road trip travel
And two best friend sets
Working out the details
Seeing the marcabe things
History will eventually wash away
And enjoying each other’s company.
Because sometimes you have to
Let the minutes pass
And surround oneself
With natures wondrous bounty.
An unexpected visit to a past that died when I was 20. The big city and sweet treats to eat. Whew I hope I pack enough coffee, ghost grave yards, beautiful mountains, wide open oceans and hopefully the rebirth of us 3.🦋
I’m hoping to remember to document things to take you all along with me
Forgive me, this is now months old. I felt cleaning drafts was due before years end. Interesting topic, as I, myself date older men. But there’s a line somewhere in 2016, no? Here’s to thinking one grew out of his teens just because the years passed and someone that would never ❤
Start tyrate after a 6 hour drive and too much time to think with my beautiful daughter next to me:
What sort of man incites such malice with in a kind heart like mine? One that thinks it’s funny to hit on my 15 year old daughter. One, that expects me to buy him unending beers. One, that leaves me in front of a busy hotel to meet a gaggle of men asking me why I’m an irish girl in part of town I don’t belong in, alone outside. The sort, that sits in a car silently, phone in hand, as I stave off a 6’3′ man accosting me in a parking lot I also didn’t belong in that all the while pretends he loves me. But mostly, a 40 yo man wanting a child. I will always protect before I partake in anything selfish. If two 15 year olds had children, You’re practically old enough to be her grandfather. Get it now?
So, enjoy the reality. The true one, not some I’m misunderstood delusion. I wonder if there is a public list for this man’s kind. Stop coming here as well. You are also not welcome to steal my writing for your own inspiration either.
In the meantime, perhaps a decent girl proving her point can be finished with a disappointment beyond imagination. Thanks for the momentary loss of faith in humanity. Good thing, I know how to make it, share it, give it, instead of take it.
Let’s ride the waves,
Because passion is all we got
Left after all the vanity
Leaves our young daydreams,
at the alter of new beginnings.
While we make tangled webs,
Out of our candied apple nocturnal entities
Like the worshipers of Apollo,
Riding a chariot into Earth’s home star.
OAlways standing in the door,
With an itchy finger baby,
Pointed right at me.
I sure hope darling
You have it ready,
When karma calls you out
Into the street,
To answer for all those travesties you create.
My sails are straight,
And have been this entire time.
Maybe I should have put a label on myself for you:Healed and not taking the dysfunctional lives anymore so beware my strong truths.
I didn’t know you weren’t the rain after you said you were here to save me from the desert. I believed you. Perhaps there should be a label: Merely a life lesson about trust.
How about a little soul movement /arm worship to make it through until Fall ❤
After hours of scrubbing my father’s rental home, because the prior tenants made an unbelievable mess.
It’s still my heart and soul that ache the most.
Partially closing a wound,
Only momentarily in the sun and his pool with my giggling wee ones
That grow up way too quickly now ❤
Faded on the clothes line,
Left to dry
Than anyone should be.
While you wear a crown of foolish tragedy.
I guess the yo-yo
Wasn’t made for things with wings.
So, I’ll keep my depth.
You keep the obtuseness.
Funerals every 120 days or less,
For 1890 days in a row-
Make it hard to smile.
But I do.
People just don’t understand,
Because they’ve never lived these tragedies
So many days,
Making sure to remember:
The bountifulness of living,
Of carrying on,
Of remembering the sun still rises.
And it still takes my breath away every time.
All of it most days now makes me wonder-
Who will I be on the other side of tragedy?
How many I meet, will remember this with me?