I'm Not Scared...But I'm Scared of

I'm not scared of LiONs AnD TiGeRs AnD BeARs, but I'm scared of...

I'm scared of wanting someone to be a part of my life more than they want to be there.

I'm scared of connecting with someone that is unavailable.

I'm scared of losing the few people that actually give a damn. Apparently it's easy to walk away from me.

I'm scared of trying and falling flat on my face so I frequently take myself out of the game before even giving myself a chance to succeed. (like this school thing)

I'm scared that when I speak no one really listens.

I'm scared of ending up alone. And since I can't get with anything that can't feed itself or clean up it's own shyt...I won't even be that creepy cat lady. LOL

I'm just sayin...

*This was originally written 2/19/09 and still rings true. So I thought I'd share it. Makes me want to cry from an overflow of emotion. 

Hopeless Romantic

She's just a hopeless romantic

She's hopelessly frantic

She's hopelessly hoping he harbors the same feelings for her as she does him; see he's romantic.

Dreaming vividly with words and emotions

Remembering what it feels like to be touched

Remembering what it feels like to be touched by him

Making me his ocean

Rocking together in unison and I made drums from an old head board and his bedroom wall

Til he and I came together

Swearing I'd never fall but damn words don't adequately express 

This jumbled up mess inside my head

Thinking at best this could be something real

Or that's what I thought

Confusing reality with how I feel

Knowing that soon I'll just be a chalk outline along the beaten path and he'll have forgotten about me before the ink even dries on this poem. 

Remembering home

But knowing that nobody remembers you when you're gone

So you're forced to make people disappear same as your emotions 

Numb due to this frostbite that swallowed  your heart

Decorated with tick marks of every guy that's came and gone without even caring to remember your name. 

And the worst part is I let him in thinking he was different

But he was just like the others and for that, only I can accept the blame. 

Untitled/Unfinished...

They say misery loves company

But he also love words that rhyme with hi, dove and boo

So he whispers sweet nothings to the sounds of I love you.

While I slip into love with the possibility

He slips in between my thighs

Letting his lips slip false truths or rather white lies, as black and  white turn gray.

Fixating on ways to illuminate this dark hole

My sparks slow and he pushes me away.

So I push back 

Ignorant to the fact that things will never be how they used to be

Allowed my dreams to compromise my reality

Until I boxed myself in white picket fences at the top of my wish list

But swearing on a bible doesn't necessarily mean I'm telling the truth

So accept this as my proof

And even though I love you despite all the evil things you do

It's time to love me more...

Addicted To Your Love

This is a follow up piece to Pondering What If.

His lips whispered 

The equivalent 

Of what felt like a kiss 

To my heart

And with different sparks 

Made me fall in love.

Head first I fell thru a ring of lust

Longin for the simple things in life

Like a true crush or even a gentle touch

As his love made love to my soul.

Felt no longer broken

I was whole 

And this was even before I allowed him to come  into me

But like a fool 

I gave my heart to a man 

Who wants nothing more than to screw me.

To tango and dance with anyone and anything anatomically identical to this

Leaving nothing to chance

Going for what he wants and

Sadly that isn't me. 

Had me pondering what if til I finally did

Wishing I never had because he tells me that he loves me 

But only with his words 

He doesn't understand me when I tell him all the other stuff gets drowned out by the magnitude of his actions

Resonating  louder than words

Cutting permanent scars into the possibility that could've been us. 

Lost in lust 

I thought I was in love 

And even more foolishly that he loved me back

But I'm no longer dumb to the fact 

As blind eyes now clearly see

That this was never more than a fuckin game.

So I prepare myself to walk away as I urge him to do the same

Cuz if love hurts this much I'd rather just settle for pain

No more fake smiles during storms of rain

Settling for fake exchanges made in vain

Rather you just ask to hit the pussy instead of dropping my heart down the drain

 Pretending this was ever about anything more than sex.

I respect that you stayed, but not the many games you played while my love got tangled up in yours

And now baby  I'm lost in myself. 

Addicted to your love but knowing withdrawal is the only way I'll ever truly be happy again and the only way I can actually live. 

So I implore you to give 

The only shot I'll ever get 

At finding true happiness.

Pretend Friends with Benefits

Difficult man complicates our relatively simplistic relationship

Making old wounds bleed over his insecurities

Strumming my strings with his fingers

As he plays Geppeto and casts me into the role of Pinocchio

But I love myself too much to play his puppet

Toying with my emotions as he quickly comes in and out of me and my life

How could the best 30 and worst 30 minutes of my life overlap in perfect harmony?

Trapped in a bittersweet symphony of my desires and the battered reality of my truth

He calls me only when it’s convenient

As my calls mysteriously drop from his phone

And he mysteriously drops me from his day

Knowing that I’m not even a priority, but still I stay

Lost in lust

I trust that he would never do the one thing that matters most…

Hurt me

And no matter how hard I tried

I still found his heart tangled up in mine

And damn if we aren’t both lost in a complicated web of lies

His scent causes my heart to skip a beat

I swear when he touches me I die

And those sexy lips and soft kisses gives me life

But only for one or two nights

You see

Because as certain as I’m sure I’m a nice piece of ass

She’s probably the one he’s making his wife

So even though he just maybe kinda likes me

I think I love him

And if I loved myself I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this

Recounting one of my most memorable trysts

Wanting to believe I’m so much more

But secretly knowing im just a pretend friend with benefits

Tired of being stringed along at the bottom of his list

And getting my gift snatched out from my arms and thrown away

Like newborn babies who wanted nothing more than a chance at life

So I keep my distance

And now I blow sour kisses from across cold, green, distant plains

Because I just can’t stand to be near him

I can no longer stomach my lust and distrust

To see his face next to her memory

And nothing next to mine but a memory of us

Drowning in a sea of emptiness

Looking for someone to throw me a lifeline

And rescue me from myself and the life of mine

And maybe just maybe

Teach me how to be loved and how to love again

But I’m over married men and guys with girlfriends

Who insist on cheating and lying their way into my precious underpants

Tickling my sweet spot

With the tips of their tongues

As if we don’t speak the same fuckin language

And I don’t already understand exactly what this is

And to think…if I were the sensitive type I’d probably cry

Tears of disappointment and pain

So that just in case you didn’t hear me

You could see how bad it hurts

Knowing you’ll say and do anything to fuck me…over.

Bouncing in Circles by Counts of 5

I sit alone in a crowded room
Surrounded by nothing but time
Memories lived bouncing in circles by counts of 5
And I always stop on 12:20 on the dot
The day that I met you
And I swear time stopped
You warmed a cold, broken heart
And if I knew then what I know now I would've ran away from you
Far away from that day
For we shared a bitter love
One that ended before it really began
And after all the love lost
I lost another friend

It's easy to choose death, but it's hard to choose life

So it's the moment of truth. The moment that will forever ever change my future. I sit here at an empty table with nothing more than my laptop, my frappuccino, my favorite song on repeat and a vivid imagination to enhance my memories.

Today I listened to a song and it took me to a special place. A place I haven't been in so long and a place I hope one day I'll reside permanently. We are all a reflection of our pasts. Whether it's been good or bad, it has inevitably shaped each and every one of us into a person different than who we would've been if it didn't happen. Today, I sit here and type one of my deepest darkest secrets knowing that I will be embraced by few and judged by many; still I open up to you...my audience. Collectively you are comprised of people who have walked in shoes worse than mine, equal to mine or better than mine, yet I feel that everyone can take something different from what I am about to share. You will come to realize that secrets from our past don't have to be the end of our futures. Life begins with love. You gotta love yourself before you can expect anyone else to love you. And if you don't love you, you are in for one hell of a ride. I'm just learning to love me, but it's never too late.


This is the story of why I live.


Life. Such a sensitive topic that time and time again has been approached as a glass half empty philosophy (or even half full for my optimists). I am what I like to call an optimistic pessimist. LOL Allow me to explain myself if you will. I was born a happy little girl. I prided myself on being that smart girl with straight As that you could always turn to when you didn't know the answer to a riddle...shit or even life. But my life is nothing like I imagined it would be or anything like it could have been. Life is all about how we choose to respond to things and not so much what happens to us.

Most of you that have been following me know that I started drinking at the young age of 10. How do you trace back a single event that would lead you down a road of unhappiness? I drank. I assumed that identity and I became that girl. It started slow and progressed into a serious problem for me. Iceland was great! But life after Jersey wasn't quite as pleasing to me.

At my worst, I was getting wasted before homeroom and again at lunch. It was all that I felt I could do to make the days go by. My parents were clueless. They didn't know I was a drunk and they don't know what I am about to reveal. By my sophomore year in high school I was drinking Everclear and just about anything I could get my hands on. I had earned the nickname Alkie (for obvious reasons). I was depressed. So depressed I actually thought I could drink my way out of it. I laugh at the thought now as I look back on where I once was mentally.

I remember days I would wake up crying because I didn't die in my sleep. Could you imagine being 16 and hating life so much that you not only cried yourself to sleep every night, but you also cried in the morning because you knew what the day would hold for you? The same agonizing torture day and night. A torture that I would've done anything to escape.

I wanted to KILL myself. I popped pills and eventually settled for cutting myself. Yes I was a cutter. For those of you that aren't familiar with cutting, it's actually a pretty common phenomenon among our young people. Many say its a cry for help. Its the coward's suicide attempt. Of course many people eventually graduate on to committing suicide, but most of us are lucky enough to get help. And although I would never advocate cutting, oh how I can remember how soothing it was to cut myself. How soothing it was to take the power into my own hands. How soothing it was to control the pain that was hurting me rather than to just sit back and do nothing.


I scarred my body. I mostly used an exact-o knife that my mom had for sewing. Its a long cylinder with a sharp razor at the top. I can remember running into my room and locking the door and rocking in my bed sliding that blade across my skin as tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt better by doing this. That was me wanting to be brave enough to press down hard; to cut the right way. It was my attempt to escape the urge to crash my car off a bridge or into oncoming traffic.

My thighs hid my pain...so much that I enlisted my hands to participate in my redemption. I distinctly remember the day I forgot my gloves and this girl from school saw the scars on my hands and threatened to report me if she saw it again. Was I scared straight?

To be honest I cannot remember. That was the year I got alcohol poisoning and my memory still has gaps in it. I just know that after the incident my junior year, I could no longer stomach any liquor. So I did the only thing I could; I quit. And the cutting...well I don't know how I moved past that but I did. And I never mentioned it again. Well...until my freshman year in college when I was assigned a group project on self-mutilation and decided that I wouldn't let my story go unheard. I googled self-mutilation and found so many people who were just like me. People who knew what it felt like to hurt and how it felt to take control of the pain. That year I stood in front of a room of college students and explained how I felt and what led me to thinking cutting was all that was out there for me. My teacher pulled me aside after class and with tears in her eyes she thanked me for sharing my story; she thanked me for having the courage to share those painful words.

When life throws us that almost fatal blow, we must have the strength and courage to pick up the pieces and move forward.

So why do I live you are probably still wondering? In the simplest of terms, I live because they didn't. I live for my family that got their lives taken away so early: my maternal grandmother, her youngest son, my mom's only nephew, and my cousin who was my best friend. I live for them because they can't live for themselves. I live for every person that has ever been victimized and made a full recovery. I live for every person that felt the way I did, but didn't get help; every suicide victim. Every life lost; everyone fighting in Iraq. They are fighting for me so I can't make it in vain. It's easy to choose death, but its hard to choose life.

I choose to live. I choose to put myself out there in hopes that someone feeling real down realizes I've been lower and managed to rebound successfully. We must face the past before we can move into the future. This is something that will not hold me back. This is something that happened and doesn't dictate my future, it just reminds me of the past.

So this is nothing more than my "buck twenty five" or $1.25 for those who still don't get it. I have too much to say for $.02. To inspire is one of the greatest gifts man can give to someone else. Imagine having the power to make someone feel invincible like they can take on the world.

I share my mistakes so you don't have to experience what I went through. My life is an open book; experience my story with me. This journey was intended for the both of us...and it all starts with love.