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I am part of all. I belong.

I am part of the human race and therefore I should defend and love all humans. However, the second part, “I belong” is a harder one to feel. But Brene Brown said it perfectly in an interview when she said, “At the end of the day, I belong to me. ” What she meant by this, is at the end of the day, you have to stay true to you.

And it is so fascinating how alot of us share this feeling and think we are alone in it. When in actuality, ALOT OF US feel it, which means there is community in feeling like we don’t belong.

But the beautiful thing is that once we talk about it with each other, we blow that fucking lie right open. Because we do belong! We may not belong in our biological family or school or church or city, but we belong to the world. And isn’t that greater? Isn’t that more beautiful? Isn’t that more powerful?

We belong to the world, the human race and ultimately ourselves.

And we are not alone.

I’m a writer too.

I remember when I was a girl, I use to play in the mud. I would grab it slowly and let it drip.



Until it built a piled city on my leg.

And I would repeat this



So focused and clear with my intention.

I wanted to create.

I wanted to play.

But you took this away.

You said my play was just a hobby.

You said no one would pay me to play.

And so I listened.

And with a tuck of my hand, I shoved my play into my pocket.

I didn’t know then, that you were scared.

Scared I wouldn’t graduate.

Scared I wouldn’t find a job.

Scared I’d turn out like “them”.

I didn’t know then, that what you were making me do was live the life you failed to.


Your are not entitled to happiness.
If you felt happy at every moment of the day, how the hell would you be able to relate to people? You need pain in your life so that you can relate to others. Without it, you’re just a big ball of fluff with no sustenance.
In essence, you’d be a dandelion.

Peter Pan

I think about him.
I think about him when I think I shouldn’t.
I think pieces of my soul was drawn to him.
Something I can’t explain, but only can experience.
It was attraction at its peak,
Cosmic,brutal attraction.
I was in love
Or so I thought.
I changed my whole being for him.
I molded myself into what I believed he wanted to hear,
Because I was afraid he wouldn’t like me other wise.
So I pretended.
And have I ever told you how good I was at pretending?
Let’s just say, I was well practiced.
By the end I had him wrapped around my finger,
But it wasn’t real love.
He abused me in the dark
And I continued to chisel and mold myself thinking this time I got it.
And I did this because that’s what my dad always wanted.
Like I said,  well practiced.
So I believed all guys wanted it,
The shape shifting,
The white lies,
The fake confidence,
The controlling charisma,
Everything was a lie.
I am not her.
I am the girl who cries when she reads the news.
I am the girl who gets anxious in big crowds.
I am the girl who wants to be liked so she pretends to be an extrovert.
I am the girl who wants to feel safe in your arms.
And lastly I am the girl who is okay without a plan.
But who are you?
You are the boy who hates himself so much you pretend to be a narcissist to hide it.
You are the boy who sees everything in darkness.
You are the boy who pretends he doesn’t need friends when really you are desperately lonely.
So of course we were drawn to each other.
We sought our truth in each other
Because we thought the other could fix us.
And we had fun along the way,
Childish fun.
But we had to grow up eventually didn’t we, Peter Pan?


I hear you whispering in my ear.
Knocking at my door.
Pay attention!
Pay attention!
There is something I have to tell you!
Something urgent, something true.
I turn on the light and squint with displeasure
"What is the password?", I say with amuse.
"Does it matter?", you hiss.
"Yes", I whisper back, "boundaries are a must. I don't just let anyone into my house, you see. Only I hold the key."
The darkness holds you still.
You're shocked!
What happened to the people pleasing girl I knew?
But after a ponder you quickly propose, 
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said last night. 
Will you please let me in?"
And from the depths of darkness you start hearing laughter calling
"Let you in?", I say. "You must be joking. I have nothing left to offer you. Time is of the essence and I cannot continue this game. Now leave me to sleep as I was having a good dream."
You shake your head with confusion
Our relationship had been your safest scheme.
Now what would you do? Rejection didn't suit you.
So you leapt from the porch in search of the next ear,
trusting she was near.

Write about your tattoos

The ink is my memory
My reach into the past
Each line is like a hand I can't help but take
The escape is so real
One more hit, one more feel
You'll understand if you get one
You'll be undone
The addiction tastes warm, comforting even
Like crawling back into the womb for one more season
It eases me
And when it is finished, I get to see my heart beat hung on my skin
Knowing nothing is akin
I am unique, regardless of what you say
And I will continue this investment of art until every dollar is paid

dragons in the night

The sounds of night alarm me
Crick, crack
Movement tip toeing on the tin roof
Is it a possum or a dragon
My mind cannot see shapes so it makes its own
That use to be a tree, but now it is a person spying on me
How do I make sense of it all
Just like nightmares, the shadows warp my fears
I imagine surrender
The waving of the white flag
But something fights in me
Reminding me what's real
I cannot let them win
So I lean on my next inhale and open the bin
To hiss at the possums playing with trash
Get out of here
Be gone, I say
I have slayed the dragon
So now I must celebrate

Beauty and the Beast

She's trapped.
Worse than Beauty and the Beast.
The town folks rush in to save her, but she is under his spell.
Not with love, but with fear.
She can't see past the castle.
All she knows is the dungeon.
I tried to save her.
I gave her my confidence, my assurance.
But all she saw was the darkness.
She can't see the lamp I am holding
Because she's not use to the light.
The petals have fallen off the rose long ago
And the monster is her home now.
What do I do
when the princess is confused?
What do I do to convince her
That her world is bigger than, "yes, sir"?
I feel I have tried my best.
So fuck all the rest.
There is nothing more I can do
But wait for her to say, "me too."

The girl with the dreads

They dangled down her back, each thread separate but together. And she worshiped them. Her dreads were her identity. Her freedom. Her home. So when she joined the army she never questioned if they were coming with her. With every push up and every pull up, her hair cheered her on as each bead clapped together with the swing of her head. The sound soon became the girls anthem song.

No one could forget that smile. That wide, bright smile with her dark blue eyes. It’s almost as if she knew something we didn’t know.

But what was it?

So when it was spring break in San Diego and the soldiers were out playing at the beach, we weren’t even surprised to see her running down the sidewalk pushing a grocery cart with a few books and a dog in it. It was her after all.

Boy did she play with the crowd! She weaved and waggled that cart while running full speed ahead and never hit a soul! The dog, of course, laid still as if he belonged there his whole life. Not even fazed for a moment.

She just kept running and laughing all along the board walk until something blocked her path. And the only thing that could ever manage to do that was what appeared to be a volleyball match. Two boys on either side, thin as sticks, whacking the beautiful white globe back and forth until one boy became victim to “the tip” and the ball would fall so close to the net that it was almost impossible to dig it up.

And there she stood. It was love at first sight. She couldn’t deny it. The game had won her heart.

While she was momentarily distracted, a puppy nearby took a liking to her dog in the cart. Now this puppy was like any other, fluffy and curious, nothing special. So of course, the dog in the cart didn’t give the pup even a side eyed glance because it wasn’t worth its time. However, as it came closer she noticed a twinkle in its eye that she recognized and just as she was reaching her arms out, it bolted! It found the nearest hole in the fence and ran.

Who was its owner you may ask? One of the sticks playing the glorious game! And once he noticed the pup had houdinied out of its leash and escaped through the fence, he dropped the ball and tried to chase after him.

And again there she stood, flabbergasted he would choose the pup over the game. No matter. A spot was now open and it was her turn to play.