Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘growing up’

Hey everyone! I apologize for not posting a lot lately. I’ve been consumed with grad school application materials, papers, and finishing up my last semester of college.

But I do have exciting news…

I am now a freelance writer for Skirt Collective! And my first article has been posted.

You can view it here:

http://www.skirtcollective.com/love-hate-relationship-depression-abuse/

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Sleepovers used to be dance music,
movie popcorn,
small sips of
Oh-My-God-I-just-tried-beer
and trying to forget
what it tastes like.
Sleepovers used to smell like
makeup and body sprays, and
feel like leather purses
we would wear to the mall
at night.
Sleepovers had 2AM secrets, and
“Please tone it down, girls” laughter.
Sleeping bags were rolled up
with “I think I might love him,”
and braided hair.

Now sleepovers are nights
we sleep in the
same bed, watch a bad
TV movie, and coax the cat
to sit between.
We turn the lights out at
11, and turn on our sides.
Back to back, body to body.
The feeling of your own outline
being colored in by
your best friend sleeping
next to you.
In the morning there is the
good morning yawn
that is more like
“Nice to see you again.”
We lay there and stretch–
the cat is on me.
“I actually liked that movie,”
she says to me.
“Ya know, I did too.”

Read Full Post »

You are a cat. When you fall your body twists and it turns, but you always land on your feet. Even if you can’t see the ground, your body prepares you. You are lost, but you will find the way by smell. If not, someone is going to find you. Posters with a high reward are stapled to poles and taped to doors of businesses. Your name echoes underneath porches and in unfinished basements. Try to jump the fence—but know that someone is there is stop you. You can swipe at their face and hiss, but understand their eyes—

Let them take you home.

Read Full Post »

Fast Approaching

Photo credit: gogirlcommunications.com

Photo credit: gogirlcommunications.com

Caps and gowns,

and speeches

and name

after name

after name.

My best friend

walks,

I clap hard.

People around

me look

at me as though

I offended them.

And then

the ceremony

rolls on.

When it ends

I look for you

and look for you

and search

for you.

I never realized

how looking

and searching

are two different

things

until that moment.

This desperation

washes over

me.

Next year it

will be me

leaving.

And I’ll be searching,

searching

for you.

What if I can’t find

you then?

A graduate

looking for her

professor

after graduation

is not

unordinary.

But you are

my friend,

my mentor,

and I love

you.

Is that

unordinary?

Yes.

But I reject that.

And I reject

the fact

that the future

is so fast

approaching,

ready to either

swallow me

or catch me.

Either way,

its mouth is

wide open.

And I am still

searching, searching.

Not ready

to hear my name,

or walk towards

my name,

or walk towards

you afterwards

with an uncertain

look on my face

about where

to step,

when to pull

down

the curtain

of tears,

and how to trust

in myself

without having to

say goodbye.

 

 

Read Full Post »

Photo credit: amanid.blogspot.com

Photo credit: amanid.blogspot.com

“It is so hard to leave–

until you leave.

And then it is

the easiest

goddamned thing

in the world,”

author John Green

says in his novel,

Paper Towns.

 

Thinking about

leaving can be

the hardest

part.

Like leaving

high school

and my first

job

and old

relationships

and throwing

away things

that I’ve saved

for way too long

but thought I

would some day

have a use for.

 

Over thinking

is heartbreaking.

But when the actual

act of leaving

is worse than

thinking about it,

maybe

there is something

that shouldn’t

be let go.

Maybe there is

a way around it.

Maybe there

is a way to

bring people

with you.

Read Full Post »

My mom asked me

when she should

stop doing Easter

baskets.

I laughed but

didn’t answer.

My parents joke

with each other

about how my

brother and I

will be in our

thirties

still coming over

to get our

baskets.

I think about

how long it will

take

for the picture

attached

to the basket

to fade.

The bunny

colored in

with brown

colored

pencil.

How long until

the scotch tape

doesn’t remember

how to stick?

I think about

how many pieces

of tape my mom

has already had to

replace.

“At least wait

until I move out,”

I finally answered

my mom,

“Just a little

longer.”

 

Read Full Post »

Every

single day

in middle school

I’d make my mom

promise me

that everything

would be okay,

and I wouldn’t

leave her alone

until she looked

at me and said

“I promise.”

 

She was right.

 

I had my

first kiss at

a YMCA

dance

when I was

11-years-old.

It was so fast

that our faces

smashed together

and I threw my

head back

laughing,

redness exploding

across my face

like the adrenaline.

The song playing

was “I Don’t

Wanna Miss a Thing”

by Aerosmith.

 

Life is fast.

 

I laid on the floor

with my cat Tiger

the night we had

to bring him

to the vet

and leave him

there forever.

I curled my

body around his

and imagined

the police

stopping by

to do a

chalk outline of us.

I closed my eyes

and tried to make

the shape of us

become

permanent.

 

I still see it.

 

One afternoon

when I was sitting

up in

my parent’s bed

alone

I realized that

I was

in love.

I held my

stomach,

wanting to keep

it safe

in some internal

pocket.

 

But I knew it would

spill out.

 

I screamed

and cried

when I found

out that

I needed

glasses.

I knew that

it would make

the bullying

worse.

 

I was right.

 

But it’s okay

now.

It always

ends up being

okay.

 

And in the end

you will know

that you really

made it

when you are

more than

okay.

 

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »