Saturday, March 28, 2009


Head under water. Toes just above the coral reef. I feel stagnant, dangling. Driving, I know where I am. I see the curves in the road. I am aware of what is happening. I feel so disconnected. Weightless, like I am floating and watching from another world. Aware that I am completely unaware. Alive but without a single sense left. Is this the average early-twenties? I try to explain to friends. They remember feeling this way once upon a time, so is said. Comforted that I have support, scared to death of losing that support. Completely independently co-dependent.

C# G.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Dear Hometown,

Dear Sister,
I have confided in you, you laughed at me.
Dear Brother,
You have listened, but never respond.
Dear Mother,
I am afraid of your criticism.
Dear Father,
I cannot speak to you.

I love you, but it is time for some change. It is time for me to stay away. I miss you everyday, but I would miss this more. So whether or not I will ever be able to tell you, I will never be moving "home." Western New York has little left for me.

Feeling whole, complete, refreshed, recharged. Feeling empty, alone, exhausted. Day in and day out I blame it on something. I blamed commercialism on Jesus at Christmas time. My co-worker told me I was the grinchiest person she knew. She laughs and tells me I am a rotten wench. I laugh too, because sometimes it is true.

I have been thinking more and more about things. An old friend's harsh words run through my mind on a daily basis. Judgmental and cruel, they were true and cut deep. But guilt is something I cannot be bothered with, and maybe that makes me selfish. We all do what we can to get by. I hope that in the coming months I can be a better friend, lover, family member. I will be a better advocate, I will stand for things. For now, I need to throw remorse to the dogs and wait it out.

It will all balance out sooner or later.

Friday, March 13, 2009

To lose your only tie to humanity is, I would imagine, like losing your good arm. I need the arm back. The new arms are just fine, I love the new arms. I still miss the old one though. Nothing can replace the old one.

This is how a coward admits they were wrong. This is how the foolish say they miss you. This is how I function. Just robotic enough to post things on the internet, text-based. A series of zeros and ones. I'll never open my mouth, never speak a word. It is all here, in ones and zeros.

Monday, March 9, 2009

What Home is to Me (In Pictures)

Amazing Fucking Friends.
Brass Monkeys.

These Kids. All of Them.


Livin' in a van..
Out of a Car.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Could be falling..

Spring does that to song birds. It really does feel like spring. We are breaking through.

I find myself giggling, ticklish (how do you spell that word? I'll never know), smiling, a blushing young girl again.

Maybe it's temporary, but show me someone ((anyone)) who is constant these days.

Sitting back, appreciating. I sat on the tree fort my dad built over a decade ago. The wood is cracked, paint chipped. The swing still works, it creaked but it carried me just fine. I swung, remembering times when I sat there without a cigarette. When I jumped off and laid in the grass, staring at the sky for twenty minutes. What happened to being invincible? I want to be a superhero again, I want to fly off those swings, 30 feet into the air like I always believed I was.

It's time. Meet me at the playground.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Nee-ag-rah Falls

Tonight, panic attack. Brought on by too many hours in this god awful town.
I was ready to burst.
My nostalgia cup was full.

Her voice, reading from "web MD."
I started crying and got behind the wheel.
I found myself somewhere in Niagara Falls.

It's okay if you recognize home.
Smoke a half a pack of cigarettes and turn the car around.
Familiarity always comes too soon.

Monday, March 2, 2009


Brittle, falling out.
Jane Roe.
Swollen, bleeding.
Benedict Arnold.
Like a house in the heart of the Nickel City.
Still standing, one more storm.
Face first, into the burning cold.