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Tuesday, August 19, 2014

A letter to our parents:


We are embarking on a journey. After much discussion and dreaming, Erin, Hollis, Brett and myself are going to western Europe. Why? How? Let me explain.

Last summer, Hollis and I both studied abroad in London. We knew each other for only three weeks, but she became my soul sister. We talked about our deepest desires and fears, our families and friends. Making friends abroad is a totally different experience – you cling to one another with an equal mix of love and desperation. Living with one another gave us a new appreciation for the simplest of things. We learned budgeting, self care, and the true value of a shared, cheap pasta dinner.

I thought I was crazy to go all the way to London with no one to meet me at the other side. My first night in London, I got miserably lost trying to get back to campus. I was so exhausted I was falling asleep, I had to navigate the tube by myself, and it was extremely late. But I was never scared – I am smart and stubborn. I made it back after three hours, and I never had troubles navigating the transportation system again. That experience taught me self-sufficiency, independence, and that the world doesn’t have to be a big, scary place. I sought help without being a target, I was aware of my surroundings, and for the first time I didn’t depend on my parents to get me out of a sticky situation. Hollis had a similar situation and traveled to Ireland and Scotland completely alone! We were empowered by our own strength, explored and pushed our limitations, and expanded our educational horizons.

I have been told “the habits you form now will be with you for the rest of your life.” Many people I once knew have demonstrated the truth in the statement in a negative manner. I have watched youth I knew grow in to adults. Laziness turns into apathy and lack of ambition. Partying, once so cool, turns into alcoholism. Sleeping around turns into failed marriages and accidental pregnancies. While I don’t want to sound all gloom-and-doom, and I believe your life can turn around at any moment, there is an important lesson here: life is a result of intentional habits. So I decided to do the things that were most important to me first, not last.

As we get older, life can just sort of happen to us. Whatever we end up doing, we often end up with more responsibilities, more burdens, more obligations. This isn’t necessarily negative – it’s part of growing up. It means you’re influencing people, leaving a legacy. Youth, in contrast, is a time of total empowerment and change.  We still have ‘room to grow,’ and are at the time of mistakes, discovery, and seeking direction.

I have grown and changed through travel – and what better habit is there than appreciating the beauty of life around me? Traveling changes the way you see the world. You are humbled to realize the world does not revolve around you, and find new ways to relate to others.

I have lost people who are dear to me far too soon, and I am reminded of the fragility of life. We are not promised old age, we are not guaranteed more time. I choose to see the world and taste the fullness of life, I seek to give my life meaning.

Why now? … Why not? I refuse to let my dreams be only dreams.


So, with three dear friends, limited funds and only a backpack, I seek to expand my horizons. We travel not to escape life, but for life to not escape us.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Yet Another

It’s impossible to say what’s next Currently, to take one breath And another And another To remind my aching heart to continue to beat While my mind screams for release And I lay Shaking Cold Empty on the floor To he, a game To me, my life And I was a casualty Nothing more, I suppose. His friends who mocked me For my silly photos Silly videos Silly girl Yet, I thought that’s what he loved My passion My childlike innocence My laughter My naivety My zest for life My hunger for adventure and experience Me.
But he loved nothing
I suppose
But his own selfish desires
Not knowing with every breath he drew
I was counting on him
To be the man I knew he could be
To be different
To be the one who finally saw me and loved me for who I am
Who caressed these fermenting thoughts
Trapped in rotting flesh
Who would nurture back to life
The sweet, careless girl
Reckless, in love He was my breath My light And I managed to lose myself in him The permeable membrane All to eager to give it all And now I am left with nothing He, not knowing Me, not seeing That no one can love me But myself.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

A Letter to the Moon

I am tired of allowing you to make me cry.
I swore I would never let anyone put me in this position again. It’s all you do.
You mock me, you blame me, you know exactly what buttons to push to get me upset. And the worst part it, I always blame myself. Whether or not I should is up for debate.
But this is what happens with the turning of each page, the close of each month. I watch you fall out of love with me all over again. 
And no matter what I do, how many letters I write, songs I croon to you, how much I make time for you, offerings I make to your glow, nights I howl at your retreating and rising figure… you lose your emotional intimacy with me. I grow clingy, you push away. And when I’m upset I no longer absorb any of the love you have reserved for me, because I so clearly see the absence of it more.
You’re holding out on me.
There’s more to give.
It’s not enough.
I find myself hating you for not loving me like you do when we’re together.
The moon becomes a stranger once more.
Because my love for you is constant – it does not wax and wane with the passing of time. I can hold onto the memory of holding you like it would save my life.
But you… you cannot.
There will not always be a tomorrow to save the day.
There will not always be a plane to carry me to you.
One day there will be too much time insulating us from one another.
And that is the day you will stop loving me.


Until then, faithfully yours I remain. 

Monday, March 31, 2014

Skin



Flesh stretched over muscle
 ligament
and bone
Intended to protect
Instead imprisons

Skin

A face,
A body unrecognizable
Sunken eyes gazing back in the mirror
Dull
and lifeless
A plastered smile disappears
The mask dropped,
 but the hurt remains

I stand under the stream of water,
empty
Scrub it away,
 rough
 and harsh
Tightening across my limbs
Glistening wet

Skin

Trapped within my own body
My very identity as a girl,
ripped away
I became a woman…
 through no choice of my own
Tissue tearing
Blood staining
Arms flailing

Tearing at tissue
As though I could wash away the feeling

Goddamn skin

Fingers bleeding
 have a mind of their own
My own touch disgusts me

Skin

I remember how gently Daddy used to wash my hair
Soap now has a different purpose
The limbs,
the organs
Membrane stretched across
Filth,
rot,
decay
Within my very soul
All the bubbles in the world cannot wash away the shame

Skin

Lungs straining
Bones encasing
My very breath suffocating
Weeping for the loss of control of my life…
No longer mine

Skin

NO.

You
cannot fuck away my innocence
You
cannot own my corpse
You
cannot tell me my body is not my own
You
cannot keep me silent

Enclosed within ribs
Another organ
Trapped and safe beneath

Skin

It beats incessantly
on and on
From final breath and back
To when I lived within another
It has thumped within the cavity
It calls home

It is broken
It is misused
But unlike skin… it is mine.

Despite your efforts to maim my body
Take my virtue
Screw me into silence
Rape a girl into a woman

Skin

It mocks you
Safe within my chest
Beating on, my willpower

I will survive
I will thrive


Heart.