Wednesday Morning.

This poem was written after  "Tuesday Night." The same great teacher suggested writing a counter piece. "What's the other side to anger? Vulnerability." Again, keep in mind that although these words might have been inspired by an emotion, they are fiction.


Wednesday Morning.

Last night I said some things I didn’t mean

About anger and brown skies and the stuff in between.

I said I was over it, I wanted to escape

But the only place I’m running is back to your place.

I need you, I want you, and yeah, you make me mad,

But there’s not a man in the world who could give me what I had.

Now this sounds crazy, like I’ve lost my mind, but I’m hurting and scared

And I just needed time.

It’s easy to blame you for all that’s gone wrong, but the truth is most the blame should probably be mine.

I’m hard to please and bad at listening, and you try to get through but my tone is splintering.

I should come with a warning that says the truth, then you wouldn’t have to hurt because of what I say to you.

I loved what we were and the future that we thought of, I just want to get back to the place where we left off- the place of laughs and smiles where everything is right-

somehow we got lost in this place and it’s worse than night. But in this tunnel that we’re stuck in,

there’s got to be a light and I’m gonna run until I see it shinin’ bright.

Now I’m laughing at myself, these words sound so childish but if I can show my anger,

I’ve gotta learn to show its counter-friend.

You see, that’s my problem, it’s so easy to defend, but when I really think I’ve lost you,

I’ll willingly show you where I’ve been. 

I’ll tell you what you need to hear, no guard to fight, I swear,

But you need to do the same for me; life doesn’t, but we’ve gotta play fair.

So here I am, what’s left of me, vulnerable and scared, now show me what’s left of you,

If there’s any part to spare. 

I’m gonna change, no more blank stare; When you talk to me I’ll listen, 

and I’ll ask you not to turn the chair.

Show me your heart, and I’ll quit with this game. Nice girl, here I am, I'm ready for a change.

Though I’m not gonna smile yet,

it’s gotta be real and I’m still stuck on “ready set.”

I’m trying though, I hope you see, and I promise- 

this is the real me. 

Tuesday Night.

This is a poem that you're not going to be used to. A teacher once told me, "Anger is an emotion that scares most critics because people think skeptically." She was right. So here is anger. You just have to keep in mind that it's fiction, possibly inspired at an angry moment. 

Tuesday Night.

When you want to write but the words don't come out,
so many thoughts in your head, you're chokin' now,
at-least I think that's what Eminem said.

 You're hopin' somehow they might look at you and know what to say, what to do.
To disappoint the masses would obstruct this view-
this view you'v been given from the life that's "you". 
But the truth is, they don't know who's who.
It's not you, smiling bright saying yes and no, it's alright.
It's not alright, you're pissed off and he's ramblin' like a broken 
jukebox
One more thing you've done wrong, 
another mistake and you're cryin' out
someone please take the burden of this weight, but no one hears a sound
beneath the smiles are nothin' but frowns and the blue sky looks brown
or maybe gray, i think that's right, but either way nothin' looks bright
To run now would make you a coward, or the strongest person in the world
if you could just escape for an day or one hour
you might make it through or find a place to really be you. 
No more nice girl, no more twisted hue, just the blue sky and a new view that's you.

The clock says eleven and you think sleep might be that get away
you close your eyes and try to escape, 
but it chases you in your dreams and all day-
there's no runnin' from your problems, they won't go away, 
so you take them like a man but with the grace of a lady 

and your promise yourself it'll be the last of "please, baby." 
you're done beggin' and sayin sorry, those things lost their meaning
long ago and today it's time to give back the beating. 

You throw your hands up but you're not leaving, 

you're saving yourself from a life of bleeding- love that is; 

you're gonna find the true feeling. 
I'm angry but there's nothin' left to say.
I've written these words and now all that's left is to quit this day. 

Free Time? Is that a movie or something?

I miss the days of Starbucks on a regular basis and no class until 12:40. I miss Skype sessions that last until 4 a.m. because there's nothing to wake up and do the next day. I miss nap times and watching TV.  I miss Tuesday night bible studies and no class on Fridays. I miss lunch dates and manicures. I miss shopping on Saturday mornings and  going to the movies.

Is this to be expected- losing all of these things? Or, not losing them, but not having time to do them- ever? The years between 20-something and 40- something come with a label: "No Free Time Available." I can't remember the last time I sat down to watch TV, or had a Saturday with nothing to do. When did Starbucks become a drive through instead of an afternoon on the patio? I can't remember when I had time to stop and breathe, or actually write a blog about something other than what I don't have time to do! It seems crazy to me, that we function this way; that we function in such a rush and a strain to get all the things we need to do done. We do it though, and some of us do it with such a poise and a style that you'd never know we hadn't had a manicure or a nap or a free second since I-don't-know-when. Here's to you super humans. You must be the ones conquering the world because I can barely eat my lunch. You know, they say you'll always remember your college years, well that's because you'll look back and think, "How in the world did I ever get all of that done?" It'll be a amazing to you. Parents, next time your kids say you don't do anything, you should drag them with you everywhere you go in a day while they're at school or out with friends. Oh, and parents, next time you tell your college student they don't do anything, you should go with them through their day and see what all they're "not doing." You'd be surprised- and very, very tired.

But now that I've complained, I'm going to class. And then work. And then I'm going to wake up tomorrow and do the same thing. Again.

And it's okay...

Just in-case you've been wondering-

It's okay to paint your toe nails a different color than your finger nails...

And to paint them more than once a week... or day. 

It's okay to rent a movie and not watch it, or to watch the same movie over and over.

It's okay to write it on the To Do list instead of actually doing it,

And it's okay to write down things you've already done, just so you'll have some thing to check off.

It's okay to eat peanut m&ms for a snack... or dinner.

It's okay to pretend you are an Olympic runner, for the sake of completing that ridiculously long mile.

It's okay to dance around and sing at the top of your lungs, even when people are watching.

And it's okay to dress up like you're going to a dance- just for fun.

It's okay to cry the whole way through Dear John or P.S. I Love You, or any movie for that matter.

It's okay to pretend you've got everything under control,

And it's okay to not have anything under control.

It's okay to laugh at your own jokes. 

It's okay to talk to yourself when no one else is home.

It's okay to not understand,

And it's okay to not care to try and figure it out.

It's okay to sleep in on Saturdays.

It's okay to buy something new just because you haven't in a while, 

And it's okay to buy things, even though you know it will probably be returned.

It's okay to stalk old friends on Facebook,

And it's okay to tell yourself you look better than them.

It's okay to be happy for no reason, or to cry for no reason.

It's okay to break etiquette.

It's okay to live your life the way you want to, regardless of what the world tells you, and in the end...

It's okay.