I’d give a salute but a hug would be better…

I had a friend once upon a time.  He served our country.  And today I’d like to remember him, as I often do.  I wish he had been my family in blood, instead he was a piece of my family by choice.  I miss our talks and the sweetness of every single word that he uttered.


I’d like to remember one man.

He was in the service,

I’m not sure which branch.

But every day he’d come and see me,

and tell me stories of his life,

and me not being quite as smart as I should

never realized once the gift he gave.

Until one day, he didn’t come

and he was gone,

and now I hold him in my heart,

and remember him and all the love

he had for his family and country.

The sacrifices he made and the humanity

he imbued, and I’ll never forget you

Old man Larry,

you were an amazing man

and the world is missing you!!



Slightly pissed with your ignorance

I don’t generally make it a habit to say what I feel about certain hot topics.  But the hate I’ve been seeing is ridiculous and I have to.  I shouldn’t.  I really shouldn’t.  But I’m as human as the rest of you.  Unless you’re a really cool cyborg.  That would be awesome as shit.  Cuz, ya know, Cyborg!!!






How fucking awful

to pay homage

to shadows left in concrete

lives vaporized

left incomplete

innocent children

melting and running

agonized and burnt

confused and hurt

to bereave and mourn

and have the balls to say

“I’m sorry”

from all of us

to all of you

To once and for all

not make it about me

or you or any of them

but all of us

and how it shaped and formed

life as we know it

on this tiny blue


So for fuck’s sake

have a fucking fit about

how selfish we’ve always been.

When we should be holding hands

we’re still spitting and hurling

insults and injuries

about WARS that don’t make sense.

Where are we now

and how much closer could we be

without this ego

this pride

this damage we have caused?

This rift and tear

where humanity has died

and no one wins

on either side.

I’m sorry too

and if you’re not

I say fuck you.



I apologize if this offends.  Actually I don’t.  I feel bad for them all.  Not just one or the other.  I read The Butter Battle Book by Dr. Seuss.  Amazing book.  Taught me all I ever wanted to know about war.  The older I get, the better I get at looking at things from different angles.  At least I hope I’m getting better.  With knowledge at our very fingertips, I feel it’s important to find compassion and learn to forgive, this life is entirely too short.

Thank You

I want to take a moment and thank all my followers, and random readers who find my blog and take a look or two.  It means the world to me.

I also want to say, I’m not 100% on how any of this works.

A little background in to me.

  1.  I’m extremely shy.
  2. I’m an awkward conversationalist.
  3. I overthink.
  4. I’m extraordinarily shy.

And all of this makes me wonder how I snagged my hubby.

So, even though I suck so terribly with interacting with other human beings, I’m freakishly happy when I get a comment, or share a comment that gets a reply.

I read the etiquette thing, and it seems really simple.  I’ve overthinked it and would prefer to know firsthand what ya’ll expect.  I don’t want to be insincere with any of you about anything at all.

I just really, really suck at interacting and talking to people I don’t know.  A wall, animal, empty cup or even empty air?  No problem.  Will totally spill my guts.

Another human being????  Holy crap, I get so nervous and awkward.  Even when its not face to face.

Seriously, it’s a mystery I found the love and obsession of my life and haven’t run him off with my crazy brand of “tag”.  You say hello, I mumble a reply and run and hide.

I really want to say thank you.  Thank you for hanging out as I run in circles through my head.  Sometimes I have a vision and it has babies and I just need to get it out.



Timeless and classic

A dream

a world that is not my own

and with every word


And there’s a haunting melody

it plays over and over

a memory I never had

and I’m sad

this story

It’s not my own

And I can feel it

in my bones

this is life

A love I was meant to have

and its fiction

but my heart screams

that its true

And its not my own

This midnight fantasy

This decrepit old and drafty house

All my ghosts are waiting

And I pass through room after room

There you are

Happy lips

and this is my own

my memory

Infected dreams talk to me

and I drown under this terrible song

wrapped up in spider webs

my eyes shut tight

The ghost of me

Dances and vanishes from sight

And I turn the page

the story and the love

not my own

Escape the dying echoes

a kiss dismissed

tragedy trailing

while your song is ending.



Your spell, black magic

and I can’t decide

If it’s my will to bend

or your fire that molds

And if there is a difference

what difference can it make?

Resulting in the same

I worship at your feet.

This lust that grows within me

under you spell

and the feeling invoked

as you watch as I writhe

destroyed in your fire and smoke

Did you steal my heart?

Do you hold it captive

like this broken body

injured in your care?

but my mind is not my own

and I haven’t got a care

as long as you are here

close to me in this hell.

Settled by this forge

soaking in the heat

I laugh and I scratch until I bleed

and as the blood soaks the floor

you stand and you stare, wordless

as before.

And then you crouch before me, eyes of fire

mesmerizing my own bruised mirrors,

You show me a heaven and I’m calmed

as your clawed and dirty hand lands

softly to scratch at my tender skin.

Your spell re-weaves and I’m bound and cloaked again.

Docile and complacent, settled at your feet.

I take every accidental touch and meaningless brush

of your flesh against mine and I worship

in the lightning that flashes and spreads

from limb to limb.

I’ll never escape, never be free of this

sickened and changing I’m losing.

My will or yours, its all the same.

If I ran and found my freedom,

I’d leap off the highest peak,

so I could come back, and settle at your feet.