Before I Ever Knew Better, I prayed for us 1000 times a day. But one Parking Lot too many and I’m relegated to a memory. A Little Devil in a Little Black Dress who must be untethered. A Bluebird, Chasing The Sun, following you Any Way the Wind Blows, never realizing I was flying too close.

Once Upon Another Time perhaps you would Turn To Me, and we could become something more than just a Fairytale ending in a Goodbye Song. I never asked you to Send me the Moon. I didn’t need you to be my Hercules or the King of Anything. All I wanted was your Gravity, My Love. One Sweet Love to help me Root Down and feel secure.

So Let The Rain Lie To Me. Let it pitapat our Love Song out into time and spacea song of Love on the Rocks, like a ship bashed and shattered at sea.

When I Choose You is exactly what you said you wanted but the opposite of what you accepted. I know how to read Between the Lines. You chose not to Stay. And I am caught in your Undertow, can barely Tread Water. My Anchors Away. I’m Too Good For You (So Sorry) you say. I guess that assuages The River of your guilt and justifies leaving me Storms & Stones but not Uncharted.

Now, you’re an Everyday Stranger. We’re Islands, You & Me.

You promised Love is Christmas, but there will be no Winter Song of happy birthday. Cassiopeia will never see December, never see The Light of day.

And I’m a Basket Case. My Kaleidoscope Heart Inside Out; a Beautiful Girl, no longer Brave, who wishes she could Breathe Again. So I Bottle It Up until I can spare enough air to exhale.

Someday. I’m Gonna Get Over You, someday. Gonna Come Round Soon. (What choice do I have!?) Many the Miles I will have to travel before that happens. But I Hold My Heart now. I Wanna Be Like Me more than anything. I’m Playing for Change this time. I’m Responsible for me.

I want to see the City. I want Bright Lights and Cityscapes. I want a Manhattan that burns as Red in the August Moon as my love for you. I want an Eden that doesn’t Pretend to be something it’s not. I want Blue Skies again instead of Only Shadows. I want to be Sweet as Whole. I’m Waiting to See if that’s even a possibility.

Bittersweet, this whole affair. But I have No Regrets. No Use. Just wish I were Not Alone.

Don’t Say You’re Sorry. At the very least, at least you weren’t Undecided.


How did I miss it!? How did I not see… I cannot believe I allowed myself to believe.

But I wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe. I did believe it. I believed in you.

You convinced me. You made me see… Exactly what you wanted me to. Until you needed me to see something different.

Last minute. Last ditched effort. Last thought.

Always the last thought. 


Never chosen.

Always broken. Discarded.

disheveled unraveled derailed

Left unalone and unattended… alone and attended… nope, not attended. Just alone. attended to. but no attention. Not to mention: Everyone tends to tend. Mind my own business… why when everyone else would rather mind it for me?

But not For me. Never for me

Left alone with no direction no affection. Just rejection.

My life is a rejection. One invariable rejection. A reflection of the unpreparedness of a father and the perhaps planned but notso th(s)ought after projection of a mother.

…but what the hell do I know…

I’m always chosen last that’s what I know …well, second best at best. Which might as well be last. I’m never first. No one ever chooses me, first. No one chooses me period

I’m an afterthought. Someonething to be dealt with. Delicately. Privately for sure. Always in private. Only–no one else can know–in private. To be put away when it’s use no longer services you well.

Well, what the hell <do I do?>  now…

I’m numb from becoming an afterthought. Perpetually a discard. at *you’re disposa(b)l* .nonrecyclable.

I cannot even cry. Which is sadder than crying, I think. The release would be welcomed. As it stands, I’m left standing*

Alone. And Unchosen. For Always.

Know Love, loss I suppose I’m used to it

**kneeling, slumping

Book Club, Book Love! 

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My brain is swirling, churning with thinking. I cannot make sense of all the misgivings floating around in my mind. I wander from thought to thought, almost aimlessly. I struggle, I cry, and I die a little each time I cannot surmount the doubt. The doubt. It’s almost palpable. It consumes me. And the guilt. The guilt keeps me up at night. The guilt of being a questionable mom, a selfish wife, and a hypocrite Christian. I guess that’s par for the course these days, a hypocrite Christian. But that’s not me. At least that’s not who I want to be. I’ve always prided myself on being true to my one true God. I’ve lived my whole life trying to be the Christian He wants me to be, the person the world expects me to be for following Him. I did my best to keep a smile on my face, regardless of the circumstances. I greeted with glee. And shared my joy. His joy. But what happens when that joy wanes? What does that say about me… Christ doesn’t wane or change. I’ve moved away from Him. So far away that even attending a worship service feels daunting, when it used to be one of my most favorite activities. I don’t want to be away from Christ. But I don’t know how to get back again. My prayers barely reach the ceiling. His words lay flat and silent before me. I feel jaded. Dejected. Rejected. Abandoned… mostly abandoned. Which leads to all those other feelings. I firmly believe that God has our best interest at heart. I firmly believe that He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it. I firmly believe that He works all things for good for those who love the Lord. I firmly believe that He has plans to prosper, not harm me. But I cannot figure out how to trust it. What does trusting Him even look like…


Your cuddles. You, holding me close, caressing my face, stroking my hair.
Lying on your chest. My cheek to your heart, hearing, feeling the thump, you breathe. Your warmth.
Drifting off in your arms, curled up in your lap. The soft rain falling outside our window, lulling me to sleep.
 Closeness …pitapat 

Come December

I don’t know much about stars.

And what I do know won’t amount to much.

But one thing is for certain: constellations continue.

What do I mean by that?

Well, constellations are constant.

So constant that we can navigate by them.

We can tell where we are, how far North or East

And no matter where you stand, NSEW

Everyone sees the same sky.

So, the stars unite us in a way.

Those constellations connect everyone

Even if you don’t know a thing about them


So, I guess my point is this:

Constellations hold hope.

Hope that we’re not alone.

Hope that no matter how lonely we feel

Someone else might be looking at that same star

Someone else may be diagramming the same constellation

The same star that twinkled at you could possibly be winking at me


Cassiopeia’s M may look like a W from your side of the planet

But those same five stars are fixed

No matter where you are

The same five stars form that constellation

No matter where you are

Those five prominent stars hold hope

That come December, a meteor shower will take place

From constellation Cassiopeia showers will radiate

No matter which side of the planet you’re on

And no matter the time of year, she will be ever present

Wearing her crown and looking Beautiful as ever

No matter where you are

Therefore, constellations are constant.

Constellations continue.

And we, as onlookers, never have to feel alone.

We have hope. Perpetual hope.

Well, as far as I know

which isn’t much

NaPoWriMo Day 2: Inspiration, the stars.


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