15 Jul

I am frozen.
What I’ve chosen,
is to be dead

Give them all to me.
Pile them on,
on top
of the other.

more things.
Stuff them inside
until there is

Until there is
no room
to breath.
No space
to just be sad.
To be lonely.
To be mad.

No space
to be numb.
No space
to become

Only room to be

Not sure

30 Jun

June 21, 2016

Paralyzed? No.
Numb? Maybe
Excited? Not really.

not backwards,
I’m moving.

To you? From you?
Not sure.
Looking for a cue.
Not sure
if I’m waiting for it
to come from you.

Or from me.
I just want to be free.

I’m moving.
Putting pieces of us
in a box.

Carry it with me.
Leave it behind.
Maybe I’ll lose it,
or maybe,
I’ll continue to
carry it inside.


28 Jun

Here. I am here.
You, you are over there.
Standing, moving, running.
Away from and to,
into and through.

Floating. I am floating.
On the currents.
To and fro
I go.
Into, away from you,
from me.
Back to you, away from you.
Into something new.

Over there, you’re over
I, I am everywhere.
In the trees,
in my skin.
I do not freeze,
I begin.

I am like the leaves.
Falling, falling.
Spun around and around.
Spinning to the ground.
Into the earth
I disintegrate.
Back into the dirt.

Back into the earth.
Floating in between everything.
I become everything,
am everything.

And nothing

Only floating,

In the earth
On the wind.
On the current.

I am lost, and I am
Without a sound,
I come unbound.

Dying Star

13 Jun

My heart is a dying star,
when I walk to the bus
stop, the mist & fog
dissolve around and
Into me.

The concrete sidewalk
catches the pieces
falling from me,
absorb back into me.
I become a mass of broken pieces.
my mass outweighs the light.

At the bus stop,
the star reaches for my thoughts.
Swallows them
and those of the people around me.
They disappear,
I breathe them in.

Wind rushes past me.
Growing louder
at my center, it hums and screams
I can hear it protest
as it careens into
me, into the star
into the widening Space.
It is lost with a hiss.

Walking to work, I
I am no longer a dying star.
I am a Space – a black hole.

Everything gravitates towards me.
Eyes, ears, cars
mist, fog, hands.
Everything disintegrates into me,
becomes a part of me.

Light and mist gain speed.
They run in.
The Space widens,
no longer just a black hole.
Rather a deep, black, living hole.
a being
a thing. No beginning,
no end.

Pass by a window,
look at it.
It’s a hole without edges –
I imagine I look at an enigma.

The Space is me.

My fingers are black.
My eyes are replaced
by fathomless cavities.
I am no longer

Only a dying star,
a black hole.
pain, hope, loss, love
become nothing.
I become nothing.
Am Nothing

but a dying star.


8 Jun

I’ve made so many wishes. So many wishes at 11:11. How many times have my feet hovered just above the car’s floor as we drove over a bridge? Muscles tensing to hold onto a wish until we made it to the other side. How many times have I held my breath while throttling through a tunnel and momentary darkness? Wishing my wish would come true and that we’d collide. Too many wishes I’ve hung in the air, to float on the wind, through my hair. Hanging in the air, they seem to carelessly flutter around and around, never really taking hold of anything. Aimlessly traveling, hoping, wishing to be found.

Wish for love, wish for kindness.
Wish for connection.
Hope for a call, or a text.
Hope for a sigh.
Wish for wanting. Want for wanting.
Subscribe to loneliness.
Hate it.
Desperately desire it.
Can’t live without it.
Yearn to be misunderstood
in understanding.
Love to be misjudged
and comprehended.


7 Jun

It’s me.
Dial tone.

Walk over, sit down
No, wait.
this out.

knock, knock.
Who is it?
It’s me.


Creak, crash
Shudder, lurch.

into ______.

Sigh, collapse
fall down
come in.

Let’s begin,

My hair

2 Mar

October 10, 2013

My hair.

My hair gets all the compliments.  Just the other day it shrugged off a compliment about its color.  My hair is too long, it’s always blowing around me, allowing the wind to wind its fingers through it to ultimately blind me and find its way into my mouth, necessitating I never wear lip gloss.  My hair somehow always finds its way underneath me or other things, dragging me back to where it wishes to stay.  My hair can never make up its mind and always goes with the flow, but alas, it is attached to my head and cannot go.

How I’ve Changed Since You Left Me

2 Mar

Rings so so true for the me that was two years ago. Beautiful.

Thought Catalog

Flickr / Mateus Lunardi DutraFlickr / Mateus Lunardi Dutra

Since you’ve been gone, my world has come to a halt. Food has lost its taste. I hear no rhythm in music. I see no beauty in nature. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. My heart feels like it’s being weighed down with a thousand stones. I am numb.

At night, I wish for a peaceful sleep. I pray that you don’t haunt my dreams. I hope that the night slips by uninterrupted because each time I wake I relive this horrible reality. At times I forget that you’re gone. I feel your phantom body next to mine holding me close, whispering that you’ll never leave me. Life feels like a nightmare since you’ve been gone.

I walk. I walk because that’s all I can do. I walk and I think, probably more than I should. I try to figure out what went wrong and…

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17 Feb

Today I will listen to the birds in the tree. I follow them with my ears, their laughs and their calls. I listen to the wind in the leaves, to the flutter of their falls. I listen and answer nature’s call.

Today I will listen to my friend sitting next to me. I follow her emotions, up and down they fall and climb, as I listen to her troubles and to her joys. I shut out the noise and I listen. I give her my time.

Today I will listen to the heart within my chest. I follow its beat, consistent and strong, listening to its life and to its song. I listen and I learn to be calm.

Heart. Friend. Nature. I listen to. Patience. Calm. Compassion. All of them I learn from you .

Book Review: The Circle by David Eggers

17 Dec

The CircleThe Circle by Dave Eggers

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I ate this book up during the Thanksgiving Holiday break, and I still cannot stop talking about it or finding things in the Bay Area that make this book seem like a narrative about the present, rather than just a Science Fiction novel a la 1984.

Eggers’ The Circle should be read by everyone in the Bay Area, especially those that work at Google. In the book, Eggers questions Big Data and how the Circle, a Google-like” corporation, uses it to close the gap between our lives in the tangible world and our lives on the Interwebs. He explores the benefits and drawbacks this poses through Mae, the main character of the novel, and her experiences working at the Circle and interacting with her family and friends inside and outside of the company. Through Mae, Eggers explores the value our society places on privacy versus transparency. Mae has to decide if the ability to lead an honest life can coincide with one that deems that some parts of life are best kept private. Granted, some of the scenarios in the book are extreme, but it definitely got me thinking about all the online accounts I have linked to Facebook (which is the main reason I have not deleted my account).

More than once, I thought of Thich Nhat Hanh’s book, You Are Here: Discovering the Magic of the Present Moment while reading The Circle. I thought about mindfulness, how I am pursuing it, like so many of my friends, and how being mindful can and cannot coexist in a world where our lives have become ensconced within our devices. I just hope we don’t become like the walking corpses Thich Nhat Hanh talks about in his book. (And I’m glad I got a physical copy of both books so that I wasn’t reading either of them on a device.)

I don’t want to give too much away, so I will stop here. I guess you will just have to read it for yourself and decide if what Eggers describes is science fiction or reality.

View all my reviews