might only be memories, but they're mine for the keeping

we talked about what we remembered.
told stories of the homes & memories that 'once upon a time' sheltered us.
i liked it.
i liked it because it felt like another time.

and

also felt like yesterday.

i might not remember every room in every house. but i do remember the way the pool felt during the summer months.
i remember my bedroom in the Jefferson house that i shared with her. the one with blue and yellow walls.
i remember crying at the piano when she would leave me to my siblings.
i remember the way we smiled in the picture she took in December. the one where his face is covered with frosting.
i remember when we flew to Oregon and got the only dog i ever loved. i remember clearly when she died too.
i remember coming home from school only wishing to go back because she made a list of chores we had to do.
i remember the panic that crossed her face when she received the phone call that our house had been broken into.
i remember the 24 marathons we would have as a family over Christmas break.
i remember crawling into her bed at two in the morning because i was afraid someone was outside my window.
i remember when they had been so mean to me and she found me crying in an empty room.
i remember being the only girl who could or would compete with the boys. i too remember making them cry.
i remember winning the annual race at my school every year. even the year my teacher bet me a snow cone that she would win.
i remember all the orchestra, band & choir concerts i was forced to sit through. some of them being mine.
i remember crisp to the core the night, week after & funeral of one of my classmates death. and when the "new teacher" made light of it.
i remember when he left for two years. only to come home to a whole new world. new home in a new state with no father around.
but i remember this most. June 30th 2007. the day we left my childhood. he wasn't around, she was nervous, he didn't care, she was doing her own thing, he was angry, i was lost.

now they're just fading photographs and flashbacks that seem to not belong to me. and on occasion i shut my eyes to find the girl they belong to.

she might be me, but i'm not her...anymore. though, sometimes i wish i still was.

karma's a bit challenging

you told me that when i jumped you wouldn't jump with me. instead you would be at the bottom to catch me.

             m   p
          u         e
so i   j              d.    
                

and as i  
           F
              
           E
                
           L
                  
           L

i saw you.

i saw you standing in the watch tower.
but
don't smile yet.

i grabbed the escape rope before i hit the ground and i climbed out of that hole just in time to see your watch tower collapse.

so i'll smile now. not because your tower fell, but because i was smart enough to have an escape rope. 

zookeeper

i really really really wish humans and animals could all live together. be friends.

i guess i'll just have to settle for being a zookeeper. well, owning a zoo.  

                                            We Bought A Zoo.

Alive to Live

Beach.

This beach.

I feel alive here.

Half. Moon. Bay. 

not your typical vacation home

It's raining inside a vacant home at the end of an unknown road.

No one knows this house exists. But I do. I go there often. I go to sit on the porch. I go to sit at the dining table and pretend dinner is ready. To hear the creaking of the
                                                                                                  s
                                                                                                       t
                                                                                                            a
                                                                                                                  i
                                                                                                                       r
                                                                                                                           s and floorboards. To see the empty picture frames that lay broken on the splintered ground. To smell the ashes from the last fire burned. To taste the autumn leaves that were carried in by muddy boots. To feel the warm rain that slips through the
          h
       e     o
          l
in the ceiling, the hole never fixed. It's there, in that broken home, where my very core stays trapped. I keep it there for reasons. Reasons sometimes I don't even understand. I guess they're excuses for not letting my heart take risks. Excuses for not letting my soul become more damaged and tainted than it already is.

And when I've spent enough time at the end of this abandoned road I close the door quietly, slip off the porch and walk back to the town where I try to belong.