In Gratitude

Craving and wanting
waiting, then staying.
Staying over, severely shortened the commute.
The touches and glances
got me beaming ear-to-ear.
Sure, I'm nervous, but equally thrilled,
grateful and present beyond compare.
Bringing out the goodness,
once a week or two.
Whatever it is, whatever it becomes or doesn't.
Glad to know it, feel it, sense and believe it.

And of me, of me, of me.
Moments with just this one.
Looking at myself back in the mirror,
grasping the reflection and nature of loneliness.
Not lonely, but alone.
Seeing myself, still,
as I see you. See you. Really see.
See you seeing me.
Seeing me and not forgetting.
Being open and not disregarding the feeling
of knowing a shattered state, of healing,
of protecting this tender and lovely soul of mine.
Breathing it in, breathing you out and in and out.

Walking this line and that.
To see and know the risk, learning of the possibilities.
"I will never understand you, but I want to learn you."
Correct you are, yes. And the same. All the same to you.
If it's the same to you,
being enamored with each precious second and space.
To be heard, to be seen.
I shall listen and listen more, still.
To this, to the beats of each soul.
Of to there and me to here.
Back in a later time and space.
Refreshed will be my eyes and arms and memory.

Ready for more.
I can't get enough of you, he said.
Yes, I know that feeling on my skin.
Enough until it is enough
or not.
The door is open and closed and open
and ready for whatever might waltz in.
Into this once broken woman.
Anew. Afresh. Awoken. Aghast. In awe.
In gratitude. I go and come in gratitude.
Here I shall remain.

Art by Eugenia Loli. 

Around

Patience. I've channeled so much patience.
Proud and patient and learning,
growing while yearning.
In moments I realize myself amazed,
in awe of people I'm with and how far I've come.
The beautiful souls in my bed,
fresh on my mind and yet,
I'm doing my damnedest to avoid familiar patterns.
Carve out brain space for only the smartest folks and things,
new habits and pleasure hobbies.
Free time is free, overwhelming and free.
Ukulele and Spanish and Chorus Girl dancing.
Or lifting barbells whilst watching Netflix-y shows.
Knitting or baking or even candlestick makin'.
Anything or everything, could be.
Even moments of nothing, purely nothing.
No social media, no phone, no tv, no remote,
just the programming I might usually tune out.
The one that runs me around,
runs me sometimes into the ground.
Odd to realize I really am doing alright,
giving myself insights into peace and quiet.
An observant to my own experiences,
watching the world rotate around.
Sitting here or there,
with myself anywhere.
Comfortable as alone, as with others.
I've become what I aimed to be,
so yes, I am proud.
Proud and patient and learning,
growing while yearning.

Tea Leaves

I have things to say, you know.
Mostly I'm not afraid to say it and share bits of my essence,
and even if I was, I do it anyway.
I'm aware it leaves me exposed and vulnerable,
open to exploitation.
It also renders me accessible and open,
ready for possibilities and corresponding feelings.
The good, right along with the bad.
The risk and the possibility.
The possibility of you, of me,
of growing into some new human
I only dreamed once I could be.
Fake it until you believe it, they said.
So maybe I did, maybe I have and now believe
I am likable and lovable and everything in between.
Not everyone's cup-o-tea, dream maven to-be.
To some, these leaves might seem unpalatable,
undesirable even when steeped, served with biscuits and sweets.
To others, something exotic, something to seek,
use up until the appeal is no longer visibly seen.
And still to others, maybe to you, all that and more,
desired and edible all the same.

Gnawing Tendencies: Rewiring this Motherboard

Gosh, you're cute.
So cute and so smart.
It's all a rush and I need to keep my head on.
I am and mostly, I am.
Here and not there.
Present and not absent.
Learning to fight addictive and gnawing tendencies,
seeing you or any other as just another.
Not inhuman, not a fantasy, not some rescuing force.
A human with weaknesses and flaws
none ever capable of filling in for me.
The space I'm learning to hold, must hold.
For me and myself and me and a bit for you.
My hand tremors to and fro,
as unsure and resounding as my tenderest heart.
Soft and fierce and soft and sometimes fierce,
back and forth, guessing the validity of asserting oneself.
Standing this ground,
strong and transparent.
Ever so soft and fierce. That's me, that's now.
Final conclusions can almost never be reached.
Merely you get insights into tendencies,
snippets and bits of who we project ourselves to be.
But damn it, you're cute anyway.
I like you and could maybe one day love you.
But for now, I'm sitting and stewing in this
sensation and putting stop to undue fantasy.
Learning healthy habits and brain waves,
while getting to know all of you.
Each and every adorable damn one of you.
My dials are set, the path is clear
gearing up as I get nearer and nearer.
Further from before and the past.
Here upon the present and foreseeable more.
The irresistible shall be resisted,
tempering these cravings with collages and books
and orange eyeball throws. My comforter has that design.
Resist and persist and re-wire this motherboard.
You. I see you. I see you and want you and see you all the more.
Breathing and breathing and seeing it through.
Cute person, cute person, let's just take it kinda slow.

Scatterbrained and funny haired, with red nails.

Charismatic, they said.
New red nails, I said.
Brainstorming and dreaming of ways to channel money,
more resources towards debts and towards savings goals.
Travels and tattoos and couches and cosmic adventures.
True story, they said.

New earrings and a pin,
to express a thought and capture a style.
Get out these ideas, get them out.
Give me the chance to focus and get it right.
I've saved almost 2 grand towards goals, after all.
Things to do, places to be, people to meet and see.
Here and then there, scatter brained and funny haired.

I aim to create collages,
glued together images, here and there.
Condoms and borax acid, an unlikely tag team.
Arose at 5, made muffins using apples.
Washed and scrubbed, dressed and left, un-rushed.
Good muffin, they said.

Little pockets of Monday joy.
Already dreaming of what I'll do after.
They said I'm beaming, full of joy and happiness.
Happiness on my own, in my own way.
Without you or any of them.

Giving it all to me, mostly all to me.
The love and leisure and otherwise confusing thoughts,
getting to understand this beauty before me.
Counting the cadences from here and through this heart.
The rhythm of my words and apples on the tree.

Perhaps it's all too confusing to care,
but this is therapy right here.
You're killing it, they told me.
You're doing it right, doing it well.
Living and surrendering to this one and only life.
Try and tried different methods and directions,
stumbling upon tactics that warm me up and gas up the soul.

Running and not running on empty.
Fill your own bucket, light up your own beams.
Sunshine and hearts and roses or whatever it may be.
That day, this day. Caring and concern looks different.
Different for geese and different for ducks.
Sat there and watched them meticulously
scrap and remove the yellowed chips and residue.
That was caring on Saturday, yesterday it was wine tasting and photography.

These nails are red, they rounded the tips.
These eyes are brightened and full of blue,
looking and seeking meaning and reasons to continue seeking.
In the future, a no-spending month or sweetened delicacy.
Each day and week, another chance to explore my own giving tree.
Greened and new and gasping fresh air.

The agency, the honor
of being alive and wanting it, too.
The freedoms to write and challenge the status quo(s).
I didn't hear anger, she said to me.
Though it's there and it's there,
rendering it un-buried and treasured within.

On and on and out and out.
Thought one, thought two,
all of the more.
Goodbye, farewell.
It's done for now.

Kind Strangers and Tea Ceremonies

Maybe it'll never happen again,
maybe it was a one-time exclusive.
It's not fear, exactly,
but feeling alive and present is nice.
I'll take it when I get it.
Run with the sensation and treasure it near.
Thank you, kind stranger.
For opening and sharing and spreading yourself
in my life, on my soul.
Perhaps it's worth it to grieve and celebrate all at once.
For sensing greater possibility reveals the chance for loss
and nothingness, but also everything.
Life can be everything and nothing.
Embracing each and every nook and cranny,
I want you and it and all of it.
The fudge and nights of cleaning
and late night teas and coffees.
Agency and will to do as I might,
hope as I might.
I'm grateful, all the same.
Watching the ebbs and flows,
writing just because, just for me.
Doing laundry and staying occupied.
Not sure of the best sleep schedule or bed time.
Last night I fell asleep after midnight and woke up on time anyhow,
hardly any rhyme or reason to it all.
Perhaps I could exercise, get my body fit and trim.
I find inspiration in that stranger,
full of dreams and aspirations and bodily quarrels.
I know it's not for me to focus on others
and I don't intend to, not now.
For if it's not this one, it's another.
The only one I'm left with is myself.
The comfort and love and dream about,
to pleasure and charm and not able to live without.
Let this yearning and fantasizing become nothing more
than that. Just here and now. Taking it as it is.
It is.
It is as it is as it is.
My heart grows stronger the longer I'm away from you
and you're no longer part of my life and psyche.
Broke it. Broke it all. We broke it and you broke it and I broke it.
Broke it. The gift and box and darkness and light and love.
Left it to wilt and die. And die it did.
And growing again, I am.
Growing and giving and living
and dreaming of more than now. More than ever.

Apples and Surprising Pleasantries

I ended up picking apples by myself,
it was just fine. Munched a baked potato and listened to old country.
We spent so much time in the corn maze and then again, I was late.
So often, I am late. But embraced all the same.
I'm so blessed with the team and work family that I have,
they see me and hold me near. As I do them, too.
It's a blessing, it's a gift.

"You're one of the most grateful people I know," my friend said to me.
Funny, I don't think it was always so.
Depression humbled me in more ways than I can count
and now I just run with it. The highs and lows and new found talents.
The silver linings and sunnier skies

I'm receiving things I've typically given freely and it feels odd.
A happy, pleasant odd sensation and reflection.
Massages and food and giving and wow,
so much I still have to learn. I'm ready for the lessons to continue.