Catching up & Big News!

Whoa, so it's been way too long since I've updated this bad boy. There's just a few things I need to catch up on and then I get to announce my big news!

I started the 100 book challenge on January 1st and I've already read 53 books. This puts me about 2 books ahead of where I need to be in order to actually read 100 books this year! Most of what I've read are pretty good books but I've read some pretty terrible ones too. I'll see about doing a more in depth post with a few words about each of the books I've read so far.

Next up, I turned 25! And went to Alaska with Cisco for a much needed vacation! Again, I'll have to do an in depth post about our trip there but it'll probably wait until I have all the pictures from our time there so I can share those too. 

Upon our return from Alaska, we also bought me a new car! It's pretty. And green. And amazing. And, and and... lol so many happy and exciting things!

I'm standing next to my Fiona! :) 

Now, I guess I should probably get to THE biggest news of the year....

**DRUM ROLL PLEASE!**

Cisco asked me to marry him!! 

I have been bouncing off the walls for the last couple of weeks with all the happy I have in me! We don't have a date set yet but it's on the agenda to discuss. Yesterday, I wrote out our proposal story and I figured what better place to share it than here. I've been getting a ton of questions on Facebook about how it happened and all that jazz so without further ado...

Our Proposal Story...

If you know Cisco and me, you know that we are not the typical couple by any means. We bicker and taunt each other enough that we could take this show on the road. We are not a normal couple and so very far from traditional so you should know that our proposal story is one for the books. Cisco does things on his own timetable so obviously this has been a long time coming!

In June of 2013, Cisco and I were gearing up for a vacation in Alaska. The day before we were to fly out, Cisco took the day off to prepare for the trip while I worked. We had a plan that when I returned home, we would immediately go shopping for last minute things for the trip. All was great until around 4pm when I suggested that I might get off work early. Cisco decided that he didn't want to go out shopping and we'd wait until the following day. Of course, I was grumpy with the idea of waiting to pack until the day of and I definitely let him know it!

When I arrived home after work on 19JUN, I walked in and after cleaning around the house for a bit, I decided to go to dinner with my parents. Cisco had once again declined going out even for dinner so as I left the house, I was still frustrated with him. Once I left, I decided that I was going to do the errands that were initially planned so I called Cisco back. While on the phone, he put me on hold to answer the door. Once he got back on the phone, he had me turn around and come pick him up. My thinking was he didn't want me to be irritated with him anymore. So I walk in, and wait on the couch while he gets ready to go. The following is a rough draft of the exchange he and I had as we prepared to go out:

CR*: "Okay, babeh, I's gettin' ready to go now!"
CL*: "I don't understand. We had a plan. We were gonna leave right after I got home from work. We discussed this earlier!"
CR: "Hold on, I have to get Harley to go outside. Harley! Outside! Come on Harley!"

(Harley stands in the living room with her head cocked to the side)

CL: "Seriously? Leave her inside and go take your shower. What is your deal? She's fine!"
CR: "Okay, hold please! I have to find my flip flop. I know it's around here somewhere!"

(He crawls around in front of the couch where I'm sitting, grasping around the floor. I'm getting further annoyed that he's still not ready to go. Every new task is just irritating me more because it's like he was stalling to get going!)

Cisco pulled out a little black box while he was "searching for his flip flop" and said to me: 

"First your way: 'Chelsea (rest of my name removed), will you marry me?' Now my way: 'You's bein' mah babeh forevah!'"

After a stunned moment of silence due to the emotional whiplash he gave me, of course I said yes (after verifying that he asked my Daddy for his blessing)! 

It turns out, the whole reason that Cisco decided not to go out and run our errands or go to dinner was because he was waiting for the UPS guy to show up with the ring. He ended up showing up in the span of me leaving the house and returning to pick Cisco up. So the whole reason I was grumpy was moot since he didn't want to leave without signing for the engagement ring! It just wouldn't be us if we weren't bickering or I wasn't grumpy with him for some reason or another during this momentous occasion!

My smile has yet to dim after that amazing night and I'm so incredibly excited to begin the rest of our lives together. The next day, Cisco and I went on our first extended vacation together and had quite the adventure in Alaska. It was the perfect time to be an engagement couple and everything is just falling into place for us. 

I hope you enjoyed our story and I'm sure Cisco will have something to say about the way I portrayed it (the guys always do!) For now, know that Cisco and I are incredibly happy.

"I paid how much for that ring?!"

I still catch myself staring at this gorgeous ring!

Don't let him fool you, he's happy!

What better place to celebrate our engagement than at Hooters with my parents?!

I am still just incredibly mind blown that I'm engaged to the love of my life! I never imagined it would feel and be like this. Every time I look at my hand, I have this huge grin on my face and I know just how lucky I am to have my Cisco. On another post, I'll have to talk about how Cisco asked my Daddy for his blessing and also about my Mom's reaction when I told her.

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So on that fabulous note, I get to talk about my good friend Mallory Hotmess! She has generously offered to take our engagement photos for us! She's learning to and becoming an incredible photographer and we're grateful to be her first engagement shoot. She is and going to continue to be a force to be reckoned with so check her out at her site! 

One of my all time favorite pictures of myself was recently taken by Mallory. She definitely captured my "I just can't..." emotion!

I'm sure I'll have to change the name of this blog to something about weddings or green or something like that since the next posts will likely be centered around that. I'll still be reading but I doubt I'll want to write about it unless I read a mind blowing book.

Anyway, thanks for reading and I'm glad I could share my story!

100 Books in 2013

This year I was able to get through 86 books in 2012 and I'm quite proud of that number. Between January of 2011 and December of 2012, I have read 167 books. Some books have been awesome and others have been near dismal. This year I've decided to attempt 100 books in 2013. There's a Challenge that Book Chick City is currently hosting. Here's hoping I can accomplish it! This will be my second attempt at it but I think this will be my year! Feel free to leave me suggestions!

I'm also hoping to win a copy of Magic Rises by Ilona Andrews by sharing about this contest!

2013 Reading Challenge

Chelsea has read 2 books toward her goal of 100 books.

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2 of 100 (2%)

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Guilt

Another post unrelated to books...

When a sibling tells you they are sick, what is your first reaction? Do you cry? Do you hug them and tell them that everything is going to be okay? Do you quietly fall apart inside while they tell you they are going to chemo? Oh, you do? Huh...what's that like?

When my sister informs the family that she's sick with cancer, my reaction? I scoff. I roll my eyes. I patiently wait. What do I wait for? Oh, just the moment when she realizes that she can't keep up the charade and lie anymore and miraculously she's healed. I also get angry. I rage. I cry for all the wrong reasons. I cry because it's not fair. I cry because I'm angry at the wrong sickness. I cry because I have nothing else to do. It breaks something inside me to have no compassion for my sister. It destroys something within me to know that if this is the one time she's telling the truth, my initial reaction will have always been disbelief and anger at yet another dramatic story from Ashley.

I don't talk about my sister very much; I refer to her as my sister even less. I'll always love her because she is blood and that's what I'm supposed to do but I don't like her. While I understand that she has a mental illness and I've have plenty of therapy to get me to where I am today, I don't like her and want very little to do with her. I don't get to have a sister that I'm close with. I don't get to have a sister that I call every couple days to talk about my day and see how her life is. I don't get to have a sister. Period. I don't get that because of who I am. I don't get that because of who I have grown to become. I don't get that because I don't accept that her illness is an excuse. 

No one should be able to make me feel the emotions that my sister does. I shouldn't feel like a horrible person because I either don't believe her about an actual cancer that she might have, or I do believe and I'm made a fool of because the lie seemed so real this time. I have lost count as to how many illnesses and sicknesses she's had. I've lost track of the amount of the times that she's supposedly been pregnant. I can say with complete seriousness that she has cried wolf so many times that it's become a joke in my family. She's a liar. She's a thief. She's ripped wounds open so many times in my family that there are scars where they used to be. She is a one-woman wrecking machine. 

This news today has a lot more affect on me than I'd like to give voice to but I've been incredibly quiet for so long regarding this that when I do talk about it, it's confusing for my audience. For a long time, I had only my parents. While I was in high school, I was practically an only child. My brother had his own life that he was screwing up since he was out of the house but I had my parents. I spent my weekends with them because I liked their company. I liked making them proud because I knew at that point, I was the only one. I used to joke that I had to make up for a lot but I'm not so sure it's a joke anymore. I guess I should be thankful to my siblings, especially my sister, because most of the decisions I make are based on the ones my siblings made before. I have my full time job. I have my college degree (albeit an AAS) and I'm continuing on to get a BS at some point. I pay my bills. I have good credit. I'm in a stable, healthy, and happy relationship. I would rather spend my time reading then going out and drinking and barhopping. I'm 24 years old and I'm settled in my life. I owe that to my parents. I wouldn't be where I am today without them. 

My sister broke our family down systematically with her sickness and her lies and her mistakes. She has weathered us so much that something like her having cancer doesn't phase us. She broke our compassion long before now but still, there will always be that niggling feeling in the back of our minds. At least in my mind. When my sister says she has cancer, I roll my eyes. That sentence should exist. That thought shouldn't be in my head. But it is. And it breaks me. 

All I can think of is what if she really does? What if she really does have 6 months left to live? Will my incredibly strong and stable parents break? Will I go to her funeral? Will I go for the right reasons? To support my parents or because I'm really and truly sad?

For the first time in years, I saw my sister a couple months ago. The visit was for all the wrong reasons and we all had banded together to help my brother. We only had to spend a day with her. That day was the first time I had seen her in probably 6 or 7 years. Not one moment of that day did I think "Man, it's good to see her again." Nope. That entire time I was with her, I was willing the clock to move faster. I was wishing for a reason to leave the room whenever she was in it. I couldn't stand to hear her voice. I couldn't stand to listen to her and my brother talk about our childhood like it was this horrible event. My siblings have a habit of making it seem like our childhood was this disaster and our parents were so terrible. Every moment of every day I wish my parents knew that they were full of shit. They don't, though, because on some levels they question their parenting because of the mistakes my siblings and I have made. Yes, I've made mistakes...significant ones. But I'd like to think I've learned from them. Not so, for my siblings. 

When I think of my siblings, I don't think of home. I don't think of all the good times we had when we were kids. I rarely think back to our childhood. All I can remember is the pain that we've all made my parents feel. How heartbroken we've made them when we make the significant mistakes that don't seem so big when we're making them. All I can remember is my brother saying that Dad never let him do anything, and my sister saying that my Dad used to abuse her. All lies. Every single one of them. Lies. 

There is absolutely nothing I can do or say to my parents to make them forget those things said about them. There's nothing I can do except my very best to show them that I've listened and I've learned. I wish there was but so far, I've only been able to use words. Even so, the fact that my Mom is so calm and quiet about my sister angers me further. A mother shouldn't be so desensitized to something her child says. She should never be in that position in the first place. A father shouldn't have to feel like a bad person for not believing another lie. Parents shouldn't have to deal with that pain.

My sister doesn't afford my parents that courtesy. Instead, every week it's something new. Two weeks ago, she only had 6 months to live and there was no reason for it. Today, she has cancer. I ask questions. Why cancer now? Did she see how we rallied around my cousin and her husband's passing from lymphoma? Did she hear a story about how people would give more attention if she was dying of cancer? Was it more believable for her? A little sister should not have to ask these questions. A parent should not have to ask these questions.

For a very long time, I hated my sister. I hated what she put my family through. I went through therapy to talk out my issues and to stop hating my sister and I believed I'd worked through my issues. I don't think I have, though. I think my indifference was masked anger. I don't think I've ever been okay with my sister and the things she's done. In my head, I know that she's mentally ill. I know that some of the things she does and says are because of that illness. I also know, though, that there is something of my sister in there that knows what she's doing and saying and she doesn't care. So long as she has the attention, all is right in her world. 

There is no answer to this. There is no right or wrong for me to feel which just pisses me off further. My sister shouldn't have an affect on my life anymore. Yet, I still get tears in my eyes when writing about it. I still have a weight in the pit of my being because of guilt. Guilt for not believing, guilt for believing a tiny bit, guilt for still wanting nothing to do with her, guilt for considering my reaction at a funeral for her, guilt for not wanting to go to a funeral for her, just guilt. 

And that guilt weighs heavily.

Reading is a way of life...

I have a couple of great images from the interwebz to portray my love of books...enjoy!

I'm sure I'll have another post with more pictures and quotes. I figured since my blog is called Lost in Literature, I could do a little more regarding books and such. :)

Beautiful Disaster is ANYTHING but beautiful....

Alright, so it's been forever since I wrote a post and I recently read a book that was enough to get my lazy ass to sit down and really write something on it. I wrote a bit about it on my GoodReads account because I heard the author reads the reviews so I'm interested to see if she responds.

I don't usually get aggravated with a book because most of the time, even if it's poorly written, there's still a good story trying to come out. Unfortunately with this particular book, I finished it in spite of myself (since I refuse to just STOP reading a book...when I start something, I finish it.) Now, onward to this horrific car crash of a book.

BEAUTIFUL DISASTER by Jamie McGuire is a story about a girl (Abby) that is trying to escape her past and family by going to college in some unknown small town. Her best friend (America) joins her on this journey and they live in the dorms on campus. Her best friend starts dating a boy (Shepley) and wants Abby to start going to these underground fights with her and Shep. Abby finally goes and sees town badboy (Travis) fighting in the ring and whoopin' ass. She finds him attractive and ends up getting too close to the fight and he seems to take a special interest in protecting her.

"Hey! Back up off her!" Travis frowned, shoving anyone who came near me. His stern expression melted into a smile at the sight of my shirt, and then he dabbed my face with a towel. "Sorry about that, Pigeon."

From here on, he starts referring to her as "Pigeon" or "Pidge." Now, I'm all for cutesy nicknames and I'm not quite one to judge on the type of nickname but Pigeon? Seriously? I could see if dude was English or from that side of the water but it doesn't quite work here. Pigeon has such a negative connotation in our society, it's difficult to believe that throughout this story, no one stops to ask why he's calling her that (with one exception and it's still not quite answered.) Obviously, this is just a small qualm with the book and up until now, I was pretty good with the story. I'm thinkin' seemingly semi-good girl with a past is going to fall in love with badboy and player and turn their lives around so I kept reading.

As I got further along in the book, Travis and Abby start having more and more contact with each other. We find out that Shepley and Travis are actually cousins and they live together. America spends more time at their apartment than their dorm and Abby is relatively smart in the beginning in not wanting to be just another girl on Trav's list of the conquered. Unfortunately, things change from here.

We see the slow action of Travis trying to figure out who Abby is and the author shows his interest in her pretty clearly from the start. From Travis inviting her over (even though he's not "trying to bag" her), and inviting her to get food with him to him bullying someone from their seat the following day (in a major show of possessiveness), it's clear that he's intrigued by Abby. Now Abby, on the other hand, starts out right in my mind. She's not interested and she does want to just be friends. Unfortunately, that gives way to fascination and to her being attracted to him. Their friendship kind of blossoms as they continue talking but you quickly learn that Abby isn't the strong-willed smart girl she's written to seem like in the beginning. In my honest opinion, she gets dumber by the second in this book. She makes it clear to Travis that she just wants to be friends yet when a boiler goes out in her dorm, her and America end up staying at the apartment with the boys. Oh yes, because there are no other dorms or showers on campus? :shrug Whatever with that plot hole but my point is that for someone that is so adamant about Travis not getting in her pants, she quickly says OK to sleeping in his bed with him. I get that she doesn't want to sleep on the couch because that's where he bangs his hoes (especially since the girls Travis sleeps with are almost ALWAYS referred to as hoes/whores/STD infested/etc. and Travis is rarely judged for his choosing to bring these "bimbo" girls home) but why does Abby have to STAY in the apartment. She can't sleep/live at the dorm and "borrow" a shower or two? Again, there are some major points that I keep shrugging to myself and hope that the story gets better.

Abby and Travis start spending a ton of time together (since they now live together) so everyone assumes that Abby has attained the unobtainable. She has slain the hoe-dragon! But oh ho ho, au contraire, mon ami!

This is NOT the case. Abby is adamant that her and Travis are just friends and gets frustrated when people start talking about her and Travis. While this idea I can understand, if you know that people are talking about you...either get used to it or stop doing the things that are putting your name out there. Be friends with a person but don't make that your whole life (which is exactly what she does with Travis and vice versa).

Now, for someone that is so frustrated with people thinking she's dating Travis, she's awfully cavalier about a bet involving living arrangements. At some point in this book, Travis and Abby make a bet. If during one of his fights, Travis gets hit he has to not have sex for a month. If Travis can manage to not get hit during this fight, Abby has to continue living with Travis for a month. Now in theory, this is a fabulous horrible idea. If Abby doesn't want to sex Travis up, then why the hell does it matter if he stops having sex for a month and WHY would she take a bet and risk having to stay with him for a month?  Bet or not, this is the start of a clear cut codependent relationship/friendship. Obviously, *spoiler alert*, she loses the bet and has to stay with him for a month (but only as friends but she's still sleeping in his bed).

 Seriously? Homegirl started out as a pretty smart character but the further the book goes the dumber she gets. Now, eventually her friend America starts asking questions about her and Travis and Abby is still completely against anything romantic with Travis...he hears this and brings back two girls while Abby is asleep in his bed. But it's okay since he's totally gonna bone them in the living room on the couch ('cuz that's sanitary :heebiejeebies:) after he rummages around his nightstand for a condom. So to be clear, homegirl is laying in Travis' bed listening to him romp around with two girls in his living room...because this is what every girl would do in that situation. Totally see that point. NOT. When his drunk ass falls into bed next to her, she gets up and sleeps on the recliner (because if she slept on that couch, I'm pretty sure I would've thrown my nook stopped reading right then and there.). On the plus side, her friends America and Shepley are trying to get her to pack her things and go. BUT Travis feels bad, brings a bunch of Abby's favorite food back to the apartment and practically bribes her to stick around...which she does. (Uh, abusive relationship: party of 2?! DINGDINGDING!) Oh how original...do something terrible, buy back love...Abuse isn't always physical.

Moving on....

During her time imprisoned staying with Travis, she meets a nice guy (Parker). She decides that even though she is living with another man (as friends) that it's okay to date Parker. Totally makes sense, right?! Negative...on all levels. Anyway, she makes this decision so even though it's stupid she's at least decided to try get some attention from someone other than Trav. At which point, Travis should be saying: 

Unfortunately, and quite obviously, this is not the case. He trips out any time someone other than him gives her some attention, forces her to change clothes if he deems she looks too slutty and actually rips Parker out of the car when (stupid homegirl decides to neck in the parking lot of Trav's apartment). The entire time up to this point, the reader is painfully aware that Travis has feelings for Abby. Yet, Abby is too stupid/stubborn/ridiculous to acknowledge this and continues going out with another man. When she finally does figure it out and she chooses Travis over Parker, this already ridiculous story goes even further into insanity. She and Trav decide to get together because they were practically made for each other. Now just before they decide to officially get together, Abby even says something along the lines of "Red flags are going up all over the place here" because Travis hits some dude because he was mad at Abby. Now, this is the correct line of thinking for homegirl and she leaves. When Travis tries to call her, she ignores it until he shows up knocking at her door the next day with nothing but apologies. That's a lot of how this relationship is. He freaks the hell out because Abby does something (most of the time, it's like she's taunting him anyway) but then he comes back with roses or apologies or whatever else he can think of. During one of their extended "happy times," Travis comes back with a damn tattoo on his wrist. At this point they've been together for maybe a month or two? If that? He tattooed her damn name on his wrist after knowing each other for hardly anytime and is surprised that she questions it. Hell, during the same scene where he shows her the tattoo, he makes mention of putting a ring on her finger and this is after he's already mentioned the official moving in together thing. Seriously, if these are big, bright ass warning flags...what else can he do? Stalk her? Call her umpteen times when he knows she doesn't want to talk to him? Because I'm pretty sure he does those things too.

The worst part about all this is there are parts in the book that make it seem like Abby might be coming to her senses and figuring out that this may not be the healthiest of relationships. Then something Travis says or does changes her mind. It's so frustrating! The ending is just so convoluted and it really blows my mind that she did the things she did; including getting a tattoo of her own. Just really?! Ugh, the more I write about this book the more infuriated I become in knowing there are people that deal with these situations in the first place; and this story just makes it seem like it's all okay. I have so much more to say but I think I've said a good piece here.

I don't hate the author, and I rarely write reviews for books I don't enjoy but this one struck a nerve. Maybe I don't see the message in the story and it completely went over my head (entirely possible as I am not infallible) but please don't mistake this as an attack against the author. I didn't like the book, I've outlined my reasons above and I probably won't read this author again.

Mother's Day Weekend and a Harley-girl :)

Well, it's been quite a time since my last post! We got our Harley-Quinn! She's super adorable and such a sweet dog! She's a little pain since she's a teething puppy and wants to get into EVERYTHING! We're enrolled in Beginner's obedience training at Petsmart and our first class was Saturday. She did really well and  we figured out a few tricks to keep her attention. She's an uppety little shit though! Yesterday, we brought her with us to visit our families so while we were at Cisco's folks' house, she wouldn't drink water out of the bowl. She'd only drink if I was pouring it from a bottle and it was super cold! We also learned that she gets bored with one set of treats so we have to switch up the treats to get her attention! I wouldn't trade her for the world, though. My cats were pretty interesting when they met last week. Snoggy (my older one) has absolutely NO issues with Harley. I think it's because Snoggy thinks she's a dog anyway so she just kind of rolls over in front of Harley to play. The only problem is that Harley doesn't get that she's about 15lbs heavier than Snoggy and playing with Snoggy means no pawing. Stash, on the other hand, did NOT take well to the new addition to the house. Stash is definitely used to being the alpha-female and she was threatened by Harley being much bigger than her. She's slowly coming around but she still bats at Harley if she gets too close. I have to keep an eye on that since both cats still have their claws.

Cisco and Harley-girl :)

Since she still has some of her baby teeth, she LOVES tug o' war!

This is probably my favorite picture of Harley on her own.

She thinks she's so innocent.

Harley love the first day we had her!

I mentioned heading to visit our families yesterday for Mother's Day. It went really well and it was nice to hang out with the family for awhile. Cisco and I brought his mom a new digital camera that she seemed pretty pleased about (even though she wasn't happy about lots of money spending lol). I helped her get it ready to go to start taking pictures while we were there. It was a nice day so we spent most of it outside with Harley and the kids. Afterwards, we headed to my Mom & Dad's house for dinner. We had steak, shrimp, potatoes and salad. It was sooo tasty and Harley didn't beg for any of it! I got Mom some furniture and a new pot to make another mini-Fairy-garden and she was pretty stoked. They went on a 17 mile bike ride yesterday that I thought was pretty cool. It's nice seeing them relax and try new things.

The only disappointing part was finding out that neither of my siblings bothered to wish Mom a Happy Mother's Day. There was no correspondence from either of them, not even through Facebook! Mom seems kind of nonchalant about it but I'm pretty sure it bothers her. It makes me so frustrated and sad that my siblings treat my parents like crap or don't acknowledge them at all. My parents bend over backwards to help all of us kids and this is the kind of thing that happens? Seriously? Who does that?! Every year I joke that it's my goal to make my Mom cry with whatever gift I give her but it's not really a joke. I try to find something every year to give her to let her know just how much I respect, love, and cherish her. It's the same with my Dad. Dad has done so much for us as a family and he's only treated with disrespect if he's even acknowledged at all by my siblings. The problem is that he's too candid for them. He represents reality. Mom is getting there too which is why I believe neither of them said anything yesterday. She's not taking crap anymore and it bothers my brother and sister enough that they don't make it an attempt to let my Mom know that she's a great Mom. I hope I was able to distract Mom enough while I was there with Cisco and Harley that she knows how much I love her and wish that I was more like her. So if you're reading this and you forgot to contact your Mom yesterday, or you did and you just want to remind her...call your Mom. Tell her that she's awesome. Without her, where the HELL would you be?!

That's enough of my rant for now. I'll leave you with a quote from Washington Irving:

"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts."

Some of my poetry...

So in looking to get back on the writing wagon, I figured I'd post some of my old works on here to see if I can get inspired. Some of them are sad, others are funny, and some are just plain uncomfortable. A lot of my poetry doesn't rhyme because I got to a point where I started figuring out that rhyming doesn't always go hand in hand with poetry. I hope someone out there enjoys! :) Here's hoping that I can start writing again. Here we go!
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She Tells her Story

She tells her story
But not how you would think
Her story is written;
Still with pencil, still with ink.

She doesn't realize
her story is told through
lines and shadows
Drawn together; colored too.

What she draws; her faith on paper
Charcoals, leads, inks-her tools of trade;
Her story; her truth in intricacy
Her works of art will never fade

She doesn't have to know
Because what I can see
That what she draws for herself
Is what relates for me.

She says she can't write her story
With a pencil or pen
But of course, I disagree.
Her drawings are her story.

She writes her story through shadings, shadows with lines
We all can write our own stories
Stanzas and words are how I tell mine.
But our story is written much the same.

Our tools are what make the difference.

_________________________________________________________________ 

It's Not Art 

She colors her world with

letters and commas

Strewn together

to create her own reality.

Her drawings are stanzas.

No lines, no art

Nothing to evoke emotion.

Just words.

But they're her colors to paint

her life; to redraw her reality

when she can't stand it 

any longer.

When her pain is all but

unbearable; 

she turns to those stanzas

that are nothing of art.

Her pen, her pencil

Those lines of the page

With letters and commas

punctuated with rage.

With her hand to the paper;

she finds herself dreaming

of a time when she could

simply write the image in her mind.

She can't draw, manipulate or create;

but she can doodle out a story

of mediocre proportions

because all she has are words.

And those words are just enough

to make her realize

that her world is just right

Colored by the images

Created by her stanzas.

And slowly, but surely she'll start to see

that words and metaphors are just what she needs.

To get her by in this world. and hers.

_________________________________________________________________

Stolen Laughter

Every once in awhile I'll reread some of my work and remember where I was at that point in my life. This is one of those works.

That smile, her smirk
is the glue that holds her together
when the world is tearing her apart;
her spirit weakened and weathered.

It used to reach her eyes
Gave her face depth and heart
But it slowly crumbled under
her world ripping apart.

She hides behind her humor
her laughter blankets emotions unknown
But in the end it won't hide her
from the enemy of being alone.

Her laughter is slowly replaced
by shallow breaths and suppressed cries
Because she can't take much more
Of being the only one who tries.

She can't breathe, they stole her
laughter, smiles and fun
Right out from under her
While she battled in a war yet undone.
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Impossible to Touch

This is a poem about how I used to (and sometimes still do) feel about people reacting to my back and scars.

Even after all these years, 

it isn't any easier

to supply a rhyme or reason

to map against their irrational fears.

I'm not a contagious disease.

They will never jump from me

onto your skin and force you

to be ill at ease.

It's part of who I have become,

the scars of the person I used to be

Once metaphorical, now physical.

Each day I fight not to succumb.

I fight to take pride in what I wear

Not shrink away from the world

when my clothes reveal

the mountainous terrain of skinned despair.

It's taken me so long to ignore the 'look,' 

the constant confusion, and ignorance.

But sometimes it doesn't matter 

because I'm still missing the precious esteem they took.

One day it won't matter; the valleys of scars

and the pitying stares they send my way

as I walk down the street hunched over.

It won't matter when I'm finally hiding among the stars.

I'm always told that I'm too young

to care what they think but 

fighting a war within myself

while battling the outside world; leaves a hero unsung.

My pride is what holds me together,

my esteem has dripped through the cracks

consumed by the monster slithering through my soul

Forcing me to open the parts of my heart I kept tethered.

One day it will matter that I care so much

about the pain, mentally and physically;

But in the end, I'll always be that girl

That was impossible to touch.

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City Dreams 

City Dreams started out because I had a verse stuck in my head...it kind of took on a life of its own and became a three part prose.

Cityscapes; late night rapes
A young child lost; full of scrapes
Urban life; a fool's escape.

Buildings loom; alleys black
Innocence lost; souls lack
Rural child under attack.

His story is common; running away 

from the worse known prey of
what even the devil can't slay.

Stuck in the alleys; alone in the dark
Cringing in the corner; naked and stark.
Remembering the adventure he wished to embark.

He only wanted fun; a night on the town.
Wishing for freedom when no one else was around.
Instead he got what he paid for; alone and on the ground.

Brutally beaten, bitten and bleeding
Images flash of the night preceding
She was a succubus in need of a feeding.

She led him out of the crowded bar;
He wanted to take her; she was so bizarre.
Instead she took it just a little too far.

She whirled on his motionless skin;
Removed his clothes while she bit in.
He was paralyzed and tantalized
until she released him with a grin.

"Run away now, boy." she whispered. He heard it clear.
But his body wouldn't move; his muscles frozen in fear.
She shoved his lifeless body and he watched her disappear.

His memories faded, oh so fast.
Shaking his head; trying to make them last.
He's stuck in this hell; without a future, without a past.

His greatest wish before it all began
was to be free from work, free from reason; and so he ran.
Found by the worst of evils with a plan.

_________________________________________________________________

Succubus Sins... Sequel to City Dreams

She watches him from the rooftops as he rocks to and fro. 

Considering when to make her move; to rescue the innocent from below.

She enjoyed the scene of panicked distress; but now it's more than just a show.

When she bit him, she tasted more than just fresh blood and fear. 

She tasted his soul; her conscience she could not hear. 

Blinded by her foolishness; she released him with a sneer.

Disappearing was all she could do; for she lost herself confused. 

She'd lost count how many times she'd left a man or boy in this alley; beaten and abused. 

But this one was different; emotions raged in her as she brazenly refused.

This little boy; this young man that was such a simple meal. 

Couldn't possibly become anything more than a bloody sample she would steal. 

But something stirs deep within; she eyes him once more as he slowly begins to reveal.

He stands; the black alley wall is his support. 

Glancing around for any help; a last resort. 

He moves his legs painstakingly slow; his face contorts.

Suddenly he looks up; as though he can feel her. 

Their eyes lock and he shows no fear; just bites back a whimper. 

She stands in the winds; her hair whipping like wild fire.

He doesn't run like all the rest. 

Even when she appears in front of him; his only emotion seemed impressed. 

Her teeth glinted as she leered; but he simply had one thing to confess.

"I am fascinated." was all he said. Her eyes blazing fire. 

Burning now with unbeknownst desire. 

She removes his bruises with a brush of her small hands; all that's required.

This small interaction; the silence speaking volumes of truth. 

His body hurts no longer; he's no longer a troubled youth. 

He questions his memories; there's no way they could be the proof.

That this beauty that stands before him was the very same 

evil that tried to take life away and burned his skin to flames. 

But the difference was when he struggled to stand; she came.

She came back. She returned to his side without a word. 

Though the idea that he should trust her was absurd; 

The look in her eyes was enough for him to let the unexpected occur.

As they ascended upon the sky; it was a feeling a utter disbelief. 

She was holding this human in her arms; after she almost drained him beyond grief. 

And he watched her as he realized that this woman was nothing but a thief.

A thief of souls, hearts and men. 

She has stolen what's most precious to him. 

But he's not willing to fight her; unsure who would win.

The succubus is fighting to be innocent in his head. 

And she's winning the war; because his conscience is hanging by a thread. 

He fits within her shape as any man would like they were in bed.

But this is so much more than lust; more than animal attraction. 

She knows because of the mere feeling of mutual satisfaction; 

When she touches his skin to hers, even when she became his soul's distraction.

_________________________________________________________________

Truth in Fear ...Sequel to Succubus Sins

This succubus of ageless generations; 

and this young man of endless revelations. 

Such the pair they make as they float across the sky with empty complications.

She sets them upon a cliff overlooking the seas 

He's so far from the city; chilled by the breeze. 

But no fear lies within; concerned at his ease.

"I will do you no more harm. Please don't fear me." she speaks 

His reply, spoken in the wind, "I do not fear you; but why was I so weak?" 

She steps away and turns her body towards the answers she seeks.

"I am a soul stealer. I destroy those I touch when I need it most." 

"And I was just another unwilling host?" 

He would never comprehend what it means to be this close.

She teeters on the edge of the cliff of hope; 

while he struggles to figure out a way to force his emotions to cope. 

Even through what he doesn't know; he reaches out for her hand to stroke.

They stay like this; these two beings of disproportionate sorts. 

For an endless time it seems; they had no need to court. 

She could touch him without stealing him; he was her last resort.

They crumble to the ground; upon this cliff of hopes and dreams; 

Wrapped together where nothing is as it may seem 

These two beings; of woven desire and passionate screams.

"Your name? What do they call you, boy?" she whispers in his hair. 

His mumbles are lost in the rocks-but not to her as he says, "Flare." 

She laughs at this joke of the gods; his confusion obvious with a glare.

"My sweet boy; my laughter is of our names in irony. I am Rain." 

Flare smiles with her; his confusion subsides and frustration contained. 

His words followed, "Perhaps opposites, in all ways but one."

How could this be? How can this have happened when just hours ago 

She flaunted her model body scantily clad with a show. 

Hunting; waiting for any guy to peak her fancy and start the flow.

_________________________________________________________________

The Weight of the World...

I wrote this about three years ago when I was in a low point of my life.

She's a little girl in a grown-up world;

Surrounded by the big bad world.

Simple words with such resolute conviction, 

they only tell half the story.

She forces herself awake everyday;

Prying herself from a world of books,

music, and endless passions--

All to be drained away by the simple

Mundane tasks of life.

LIFE. Such a small word yet filled with something

No one has ever been able to capture...

Not according to her.

Because life, to her, is making IT.

What is IT? The IT that she's always struggling for.

Fighting for. That one small accomplishment

of making OTHERS happy; OTHERS proud?

of doing as she's told; staying under the radar.

But she suffers within for those weeds

of doubt grow within her consciousness

and wait for her to water them with her

indecision, unreasonable need to take upon her shoulders

the world within which she lives.

The work she does is never enough, yet she slaves

over an apprentice far more appreciated.

But she'll never speak a word or breathe a hint of unhappiness

whilst she's among those few who affect that world she carries.

It wouldn't matter in the least; she knows this much. 

But she's surrounded. Walls crumbling down, caving her in

forcing her to break.

All before she takes on yet another impossible burden.

A burden of pride for her family, and herself.

To force herself into her scholarly endeavor, unfathomable energy

stolen from her soul. But it leads her down the path

of making IT as she fights to keep herself moving.

The weight of what she so stubbornly carries

buries her beneath herself; the weeds of herself planting

into the ground.

She's stuck. She's lost. She's everywhere. And nowhere.

All at once. But does it matter?

Why would it? She's the Titan Atlas. 

As long as she doesn't drop the world

at everyone's feet....she's invisible.

She's rubble and debris, 

but the weight of the world still bears on

..she never dropped the world.

It dropped her.

_________________________________________________________________

Home

I wrote this about my home when I lived in Alaska. I always missed the beach.

I feel the sand between my toes
I hear the waves crashing, thunderous against the shore
Straggling clouds shaping the sunset
Colors bordering rose, and grey
The sun slowly lowering itself to slumber
As I walk along the shore, I see ships in the horizon
A gap in the line of lights, where bridge meets tunnel
Music in the distance along Atlantic Avenue
Journeying along the shore, seashells and footprints
Barefoot and rolled up jeans
Splashing each other as we make our way along the beach
Stopping only to write our names in the sand
Simply to be washed away
Much the way life works
I’ll forever love the ocean and all its symbolism
Freedom in the sweet salty air and conscience in the crashing waves
I’ll always be able to feel that air, hear that music
No matter how far away I am
The good old 757, my home always

_________________________________________________________________

Absolutely

Your eyes search me to see
The need inside me burning
So hot that I can't handle
the fire you fuel with your white ice
But I'll absolutely try.

As my skin burns so close to yours
You feel my pain as I dream of ice 
Your touch is cool, ice on fire 
But you'll melt away
Because my soul is flaming with fear
But I'll absolutely try

This flame pulses inside me
And it thunders you
You hear every pulse
whispering 'ice, ice, ice'
You know it's screaming for you 
And even if you melt away my flame
I'll absolutely try.

Can you taste my fear?
Or am I still too burned even your ice
can't heal me
I'll never be a perfect spring of water
But if you'll just take a drink
We can absolutely try.

Even though you may freeze up
around everyone so much so
that you burn everyone 
around you...I'm still going to say:
I absolutely need you.
I absolutely miss you.
I'll absolutely love you.
Absolutely.

_________________________________________________________________

Play-Doh

A world of colors, 
choices to make
Find the right one, 
I'm yours to take
Mold me, move me 
I'm yours to break.

In this world of decisions
Construct me to be the girl
of your world and illusions
Because without this magic
It'll always be the same conclusion.

Without this clay to mold;
I'm simply a lump of coal
Under enough pressure to turn to gold
But as your Play-Doh,
Make me something worth your soul.

Lie to me and roll me into another design
Mixture of colors into rainbows;  let your emotion rule
while mine intertwines
Construct a mold of what you see in me
And to life I will resign

I'll no longer be unreal; yours to keep
Make me whole, pull me together
And finally show us the rewards to reap
As your mold, your creation; I'll be yours 
I'm Play-Doh...and when you're done;
Crumble me up in one clean sweep.

_________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading!