A memory - written today

That's just the smell
of rotting wood
and a memory
from childhood
we used to run
out to the creek
catching tadpoles
in a mystery world
it was magical and beautiful
it was the only place
that wanted me

I wanted to live there
in the boughs of a tree
that held me firmly
in its embrace
never pushing me away
I nailed 3 boards
to a branch
before abandoning my plan
my 8-year-old hands
didn't yet have the skill
to construct a home from scratch
and when I went out
to the creek to play
those crooked boards
stared down at me
mocking me
in my inability
to construct my own
reality

3010 - 7/26/09

We were standing in a meadow
You handed me some fruit
you must have heard me wrong
what i asked for was the truth
there's a creek that trickles by
it reminds me of my youth
imaginings and trapped tadpoles
but what's that got to do with you?
it feels the same somehow
the way it felt being at home
the silence the sadness
the shame surrounds what i don't know
i guess this means it's time to go
cause it's too soon to remember
go through all that again
a good time for me is never
but let's re-convene in 3010

Current - 8/3/09

Sleeping with a wet rag
I want to feel a dream
I've been overly exhausted
and towed downstream
currents push and then they pull
my body's an open sore
my past just keeps on surfacing
I can't ignore it anymore
the deeper it gets
the uglier the wounds
the more I forget
the more I get confused
didn't anyone love me?
did anyone even try?
I was a lonesome girl
with a propensity to cry
and now I'm struggling
just to stay afloat
my dream to swim upstream
feels impossibly remote