In my travelsI am the girl who built the bridge to TerabithiaA slip of my foot, silent screamingI am the boy who loved herHollow and dry, uncomfortable buttons pressed against my cheekI am the fern, the ferns unfurlingThe red fern, where it grows in the mountainsI am the woman on the Island of The Blue DolphinsMaking my skirt of cormorant feathersStanding reverent in the sea cavesRemembering my brotherI am Captain NemoHolding my heartache 20,000 leagues under waterTrying to drown it...and I am failingMy name Is Asher Lev, and I cannot make my mother wellBreaking promises and charcoal pencilsIs this the cost of being Chosen?I am Edmund, infuriating EdmundEven while I wish to be LucyFighting bravely, so gentle and kindI will be Lucy after allI am the caterpillar, the cheshire catSending Alice every which wayI am Sara Crew in my attic at the end of an endless dayI am Jonas, struggling in the SamenessFinding depth in pale eyes, while the Giver gives nothingI am Dicey, wanting n
Winter and IWinter and I remain on speaking terms, if only for the extra time she lends meTime to crawl under the covers and find out just a little more about someoneFamiliar curves that I fit into just right, creases I have yet to find...and tickleWrinkles and birthmarks and body hair...or the lack thereofComfort and curiosity, intentional intensityRealizing that sometimes, I am still shy.Winter and I, well I suppose we're alrightDespite her insistence on licking my EYEBALLSAnd gleefully nipping at my toesAfter all these years she finds new places to touch me, whether I'm ready for it or not.I guess she needs adventure too, but I think we need to have a talk about consent'Cause I'm feeling a little...*ahem*...violated.Winter and I, well...we've known each other a long time nowAnd it's a complicated relationship sometimes, I knowBut she keeps me warm when I -- wait noNo she does notWhy on earth am I waxing poetic about all this snow?What is WRONG with me?!Some day I swear I'm gon
Dear TimeDear Time,I thought you a thief at first; I was angry at the small things you've taken.But I understand now, I really do, and I think you need them more than me.A wish here, a coping mechanism there...How could I begrudge you these things when you have given me so much?A freshly picked flower, a burning sunrise,Like fine sand through my fingers--details that I no longer recallYou are always there; you just won't let me go.A generous and jealous lover you are, it seems...You give and take from us all.
You SleepJust when we are laughing and close and skin to skin you say those words again that constrict my throat.I guess that's what I get for asking what you are thinking.This time it's your heart that will go into overdrive before giving up--soon, you'd imagine, and brought on by all this drinking.You have known and accepted that you are going to die before age 33 since you were 12 years old--the curse of the men in your family.You are surprised and maybe even a little bit dismayed that you are still kicking around...You didn't really have a plan if you made it past that.Yet you dare to let me love you.You dare to joke that I will be one of the few at your funeral.You dare to act like it wouldn't fucking matter if you died in your apartment alone because you haven't really influenced anyone,and I am the only one who puts up with you.And now you sleep, at my side, deep and undisturbed as always.You sleep while I try to get the air to steady itself in my lungs.You sleep while I shov
ChurchThe last time I went to church, I couldn't take communion because I couldn't have nicey nice feelings about my mother, and you are only supposed to take it if you have forgiven those who have wronged you.I tried once again to forgive and I could not bring myself to feel love for her and I left the sanctuary and I cried and I cried until I ACHED in the bathroom;tears and hot snot making marks on my dress, because I WANTED to have those nicey nice feelings and I had prayed for themand I had worn spots in the shape of my knees in the carpet at every alter I had ever known.It was a familiar pattern.I had prayed for forgiveness for my sins and I had begged over and over for the ability to forgive others. Twenty years of inadequacy.And again, a woman prayed with me.She held my hands and handed me tissue, and she prayed such a nice prayer about how grateful she was that the Lord was using her to bring me healing.She had tears shining in her eyes as she talked about how blessed she was