Marriage…Pt 2.

•May 13, 2009 • Leave a Comment

I don’t like to be wrong. In fact…I’m down right stubborn about it. Once I make up my mind…that’s it. With that being said….I’ve changed my mind…If you want to refer back to a January post…I said very succinctly that I did not want to get married. I didn’t even like to think the word. So…fast forward five months…and it’s come up… I have trust issues.  It was impossible to think that I could trust someone, a man especially.  It was impossible to think that I could get past holding myself from a safe distance to fall in love.  But friends…I am so there.   When I started my almost a year ago, I met a guy that I’ll call D.  He was pretty cool, a good guy to talk with at break, ride with to the ‘burg for lunch.  And because of my self worth issues, I figured that was all he saw in me as well.  As we talked we realized, we knew each other from over ten years ago, when we went to the same small church.  I didn’t remember him, but somehow, he remembered me.    He is the first guy that I’ve ever really trusted, loved.  Not because I’m infatuated, but because he has taken the time to plant the seeds of trust, cultivate and care for them.  D has shown me that there are good things out there, and that I deserve a share in them.  He is a strong Christian man, who encourages my heart.  He constantly tells me “I love you”, even though I struggle with those words, he waits patiently for me to be able to return them.  He knows my past, and is patient and consiencious of what may cause me pain.  He’s asked what I think of getting married.  I can’t imagine going a day without him.  So…am I getting married? Not yet.    Is it on my mind?  It sure is.  Do I like the idea?  Yes I do.


I’m still here.

•April 4, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Hello friends!  I know its been a while…let’s just suffice to say that life got way crazy super fast.  For one, the divorce of the century had finally gotten started.  My mother and stepdaddy have been married since I was a wee lass of a year old.  Twenty years later, they are finally realizing…that it just wasn’t working.  I wondered what their first clue was, the fact that they’ve not lived together since 2002?  Her drugs, his alcoholism?  Who knows…   Anyway, that had just gotten underway and started to get nasty and I didn’t have much to blog about that wasn’t going to be uber-negative.    Then, last Friday, stepdaddy went on a ride over to Sisters house.  They went for pizza and  a beer, parted ways, and headed home… now those in Ohio know that it was a fairly nice day, a little chilly yet, but nothing to stop you from taking the motorcycle out.    Thankfully, in retrospect,  it was chilly enough that he had put his leathers on as well as chaps.    We still aren’t certain what happened, but the end result was the road turned….Smoke didn’t.   (yes that really is his nickname.)    The people who’s yard he landed in say he lost control around the curve, and the bike half landed on him.    So…  they of course went running over,  and he’s asking them to help him get his bike back up…he’s fine.    Thankfully they noticed the blood gushing from his forhead and told him that that may not have been the best idea.   Mr. Guardian Angel got him laid down and called paramedics, while Mrs.  Guardian Angel  asked him some questions…”Can you tell us your name?”   “smoke”   “can you tell us your legal name?”  “SMOKE”….   “can you tell us what day of the week it is?”  “The 27?”  “What day of the week is it?”  “28th?”    So he got to take a little helicoptor ride to Grant Trauma Center.   He was there for five days while they cleaned out his forhead,   put plates in his tibia, got him a back brace for his fractured vertabrae.  Every few hours that first day the nurses would come in and ask him more questions.  “Do you know where you are?” “What day is it?”  “Can you read the clock?”   My favorite was one asked him what year it was…at the same time he was talking about his bike with Porky Pig and Murph…he looked at her and said “1983”  Her face FROZE.   I’m sure she was thinking  oh man…we’re going to have to do another cat scan on this guy. He got the question right the second time around.  🙂 He’s home now,  and we’re making it work.  I am still working second shift, but Sister comes and takes care of him while I’m there.    He’s not going to be able to work for at least nine months.  I don’t know how we are going to keep Baby sister in School… I don’t know how we are going to pay all the bills… but I do know that God is good.  And that’s enough for me right now.

written through tears

•March 8, 2009 • Leave a Comment

tears fall silent down her face
in her mind she longs for a simple embrace
to be held and to know someone is near
that all will be well, she’s safe from fear.

memories invade her solitude,
remembering what the scars led her to conclude.
the pain, the shame of distant sin,
she tries to stop the memories begin.

tears are streaming, racing down,
past the laughing of the clown,
awash with sorrow, inside her mind,
she tried to leave the past behind.

but out of the ashes of her mispent youth,
rises a phoenix full of wholeness and truth.
through the pain and the sorrow, the day never ends
sadness and tears will still be your friend.

but fight for justice and speak without fear.
unleash the memories of all the years.
away with the guilt, the sadness and blame,
welcome the child and embrace you again.


•March 8, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Laced up with a fake smile
Tie together the small voice on my tongue
Walk by and don’t give me a second glance
The patchwork doll pretending to be what she once was
Don’t bother to ask if I’m okay
Since I’ll say fine and you’ll just walk away
And inside, my heart it’ll start to crack
But this sewn up appearance I’ll never lack
And you won’t ever try to examine close
You only care for a second what I feel every night
And unless I can act according to your will
Than it’s not worth even knowing my fight
Leave me the slumpen mess in the halls
And just ridicule all my falls
For I am nothing but an image of a girl
Does it matter if you neglect her world?
Done up rosy just for you
But either way you can’t seem to find a way to care
All her seams are coming undone by the second
But that’s nothing you let her share
So watch her smile and convince yourself she’s all right
Don’t even bother asking her, it would take too much time
You can play with her on the days it suits how you feel
And just leave her abandoned if she gets too real
Patchwork doll laced with the fake smile
She couldn’t really feel any pain
That’s what all the others keep telling themselves
As silently she feels her threads fray….

Break me down

•March 8, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Break me down
Pick me up
Listen to me
Feel me
Love me

Take me as I am
Crippled with pain
Experiences known
Stories untold

To dream
To fight
Wanting ecstasy
Moving on
Never available
Out of reach
Out of mind
Fighting with my mind

Tables turned
Dim satisfaction
The ‘great unknown’
Out of sight
Out of mind


•March 8, 2009 • Leave a Comment

She turns the water on.
Scalding temps steam up the mirror,
She steps under the flow,
Hoping the water will help,
Her body is coiled,
Tense after the day,
She scrubs her skin,
Trying desperately to feel clean,
It never works,
She still feels filthy,
She climbs out and crawls in bed,
The memories of skin her companion,
She drifts to sleep,
Her nightmares marking time.

She’s broken,
By hands that never asked to touch,
She’s beaten ,
By the lies she learns to trust,
She’s broken,
By a million thoughts
She’s beaten,
By a voice calling in the dark,
She’s broken down,
She’s beaten down,
She’s crying out,
She’s lost.

She feels them on her skin,
She’s hears them in her thoughts,
She wonders if the feelings will ever stop,
Her body remembers pain,
Her heart wants it to stop,
She’s blinded by the reality,
She wants to run and hide,
She hopes that the razor will stop the fear inside,
She’s begging to forget,
She pushing to remember,
The hands that held her down are pressing all the harder,
She wants to scrub the images,
To make them fade away,
Maybe then,
She won’t feel so dirty everyday.


•February 13, 2009 • Leave a Comment

It’s been an interesting week. My great-grandmother passed away. She was 97 and had pancreatic cancer so it wasn’t exactly an unexpected thing. Everyone is glad she is out of pain. But it’s been bringing up many interesting conversations. After Dyls died, I made a living will. It wasn’t one of those things that I did on a whim, it was a genuine-need-to-do thing for me. If I am in a wreck or something, and there is no significant brain activity, and you have to plug me into a wall to keep me going, forget it. Take whatever organs you want, and let me go. This subject came up in conversation with my mom. She flipped out. “With all the medical advances everyday, you could be plugged in for 20 years and they could find something to fix you.” If I’ve been out 20 years, and all these advances have been made, I don’t want to be fixed. Can you imagine losing 20 years like that? It’s bad enough when you think it’s Wednesday, and someone tells you that you don’t have to go to work as its Saturday. It screws you up. Plus, I’m a technological idiot anyway. By then, God only knows what gadgets they will have come up with.
My dad’s biggest thing with all this has been, “I don’t want to get that old.” He’s been saying that for years, watching my grandfather, who gave up driving this year. He can’t walk well, has little balance, no hearing in his left ear, and the early stages of Alzheimer’s. I honestly think that if it wasn’t for Grams, he wouldn’t be here. If she goes first, he’s going to follow right after. But Dad is 47. That’s not exactly time to start planning on dying. The problem is, his dad had a heart attack when he was in his 50s, so he doesn’t really seem to give a damn. He smokes like a chimney, drinks like a fish, and hasn’t gone to the doctor since I was in middle school. (He doesn’t like what they have to say). He rides his Harley home from the bar, so far gone he can’t walk a straight line, so how he keeps his bike up…I have no clue. He almost seems to be determined to not make it to an age where he might be limited. I’ve told him that he has to walk us down the aisle, that Ashtyn has 8 years of school left, that he’s got to see her graduate. That he’ll have grand kids. He enjoyed playing with my cousins son so much, I honestly think that if one of us girls would have a boy, he might change his attitude a bit. Unfortunately, that’s not a good enough reason for me to want a kid quite yet.
This post is kind of a downer, I apologize. It’s just what’s on my mind. After the funeral today, I can look to the weekend and birthday festivities. Let’s just say, it’s going to be a LONG weekend. Have a good one friends.