8

If there was a moment
Where all you ever wanted
Existed

But you didn’t take it
For whatever reason
What does that make life?
How often do those moments slip away?
What could have been?

To wonder in its beauty.
It would have been everything.

Cool like that

Refrigerator, refrigerator, fridge.

Mistake

I do not belong in the first house that I ever bought. That I still own. The moments that I am there are always painful. By far the room that I dread walking into the most is my bedroom. On my dresser remains a stack of my books, lotions, CDs, photos. There are still a couple drawers of my belongings that I haven’t taken. He keeps clothes piled up on the side of the bed that I used to sleep.

I had notes that I wrote in my dresser. I see a page on top of the television. It’s the TV that I bought from a roommate before she moved away. I wonder why this piece of paper is there and I make the mistake of looking at it. It’s not one that I wrote.

It’s a love note that he wrote to her when she was here in this bedroom. At the same time that my children were here. All under one roof. In the house that is mine that I am not welcome in. And it hurts. But it doesn’t hurt for all the reasons that one might expect. Truthfully those feelings are there but I have faced them and I have moved on. I don’t want to live here with him. I don’t want him.

The reason it cuts through me is because this is not the man that I even knew. He never wrote love letters. I wasn’t worth it to him. The love that I always wanted, that I was never given, is here in my bedroom. This room was just never meant for me.

In seclusion

My love,
I can attempt to distract myself
But I know I am transparent.
Bury myself
Into a foray of aimlessly engaging
Still, my only focus is you.
A stolen glance
Returned.
Clueless to what you are thinking
Everything left unspoken
Insatiably denied.
This wall shelters me
From being crushed
By the weight of your rejection
Leaving me longing
For you to hold me close
Succumbing to this fate
In knowing
I’ll be waiting endlessly
For something that will never be.

Caution

Bipolar bouncing from love to hate
Settling into the gray.
Time advances forward... frozen over.
Living in opposites
Stop. Go. Crawl away
With a band-aid covered broken heart
That has no regard for what I think.
Clinging to every little sign
And despising myself for it
Coincidence. I try to convince myself
Wanting otherwise doesn't make it so.
Embrace the things I love
Sipping coffee
Pink bubblegum lip gloss
The warm breeze on a beautiful day
A favourite new song on repeat
Every moment with my girls.
Sudden rage rushes in to devour me
Before I slip back into the aching sadness
So tired of feeling broken
Then overwhelmed with anger again.
I wonder if things will change
Why fate hasn't stepped in
Or have I blocked it
Too afraid the next wave of pain will be too much for me.
Red. Green. Yellow

Haunted Heart

Layers of dust
Cover each chamber
Rhythmic pounding
Faintly echoes on
Pushing through
Invasive thoughts
That keeps the blood warm
The weight of a thousand blankets
Rest upon
The love in my haunted heart.

Roaming through me
Sending tidal waves that steal my breath
My sweet ghost fills the space
More than any other soul
Suffocating the others
With no signs of vacating
Pervading
Remaining
Forever in my haunted heart.

Perseverance and sorrow

Self-serving, overbearing and toxic.

The disease takes hold and sabotages all that was once good. When I didn’t suspect anything she crept in to suppress without regard. How quickly it spread. Indeed I am in awe of the evil weight it possesses. Now I fear that nothing can fix these cells. Even cut out and removed, the damage cannot be reversed. It is too late.

Luckily, or not, it is not fatal. I have to live through this. It’s not getting easier. I know it won’t get easier. I greet the hungry malady with a smile because how else do I deal? Anger does not change a thing. Denial gives it authority. Accepting is defeat.

There is no solution but the questions have all been answered.

Foreshadow

At a standstill
on the sidelines.
Biding my time
Feels like wasting each day.
Erase what I know
when everything's amiss.
Tumbling in circles,

Repeat...

Diving in.
The world is mine.
(vacantly numb)

Bendis

Under the daylight moon, a stream of confusion, nothing is this bright. The expanding blueness stretches out to offer hope, a false sense of safe. Under the daylight moon comes a hint that the night will fall upon us. Scatter and shuffle to finish before the soft comforts embrace the depleted.
I am not scared of the dark.
The daylight moon transmits the cue for the noise to lull.
The multitude of distress to dissipate. Just a little further away, it is always there.

Waiting.

wading...

Wordless Wednesday
More Wordless Wednesday Participants

Pour

Three fingertip bruises contradict the words that shattered my heart.

It wasn’t hard falling for you. I felt drawn in. The force of that pull was more than I could have imagined. And you were always there. With each word, I grew stronger and pinned my hopes a little higher. I felt connected on every level, sharing so many of the same ideals and values.

Maybe I was just a place holder that was filling your need for attention through the wires. Maybe I built meaning into things that were never there.

We were always closer when we were further apart. The moments that brought us together, you tended to shy away. I should have used that to open my eyes to the truth. Except something was different in March. The way that you looked at me, my soul felt exposed.

I wanted more and I needed it to be real. I needed this to be different than my history. To know that it is not is a little more than I can endure. I can’t keep giving my heart to those that don’t want it. So now I will take the sturdiest of bricks and create a fortress. I’m going to lock myself in there because I can’t allow for me to continue on this way.

Beauty

I only hope that the things that she has seen don't ruin her chance for happiness. Six was too early to learn so many of the reasons that make life unfair. In three days she will turn seven. I have to reach deep within to find the strength to undue the damage. She deserves that.

Something in the way

Reason.
There is no winning with her.
Her hands tied behind her back
Still she has the upper advantage.
My hands are tied.
Bound.
With stern necessity she carries her song.
Sweetly, like an angel, singing of truth
Wisdom echoes, ringing clear.
My heart argues to no avail.
She won’t have any of it.
Yet Reason can’t make it stop.
My heart swells and swoons.
It bursts.
It breaks.
With Reason ridiculing every beat.
And if you were to hold me in your arms,
Safe
Reason would all but disappear.

Canada's Next Top Models

They are naturals. Maybe I can soon be a lady who lunches after all.

Believe

Strawberry hears her streetwise best friend tell her truths but her heart wants to let her accept childhood wonders. This was the first holiday that she began to question.

"The Easter Bunny, Santa and the Tooth Fairy don't really exist. It's just our parents?" her tone wavers into a question.

I ask her if that's what she truly thinks. I try to gracefully answer her question with a question. "How could I possibly be all those things? I'm just a mom."


This morning they woke only a couple hours after I had fallen asleep. Buttercup had struggled all night with bad dreams. Her whimpers and subconscious cries kept me awake. Still she bounced out of bed with four year old eager excitement to see what the bunny had brought. A sleepy older sister followed her.

Trails of shiny, foil covered chocolate eggs led to baskets of candy, new dresses, a movie, a CD.


They settled into peeling off the paper, unwrapping their sweets when Strawberry found her truth.

“Mom, I know there is an Easter Bunny! You couldn't possibly have got us all this stuff last night.”

"You're right. The stores were closed when the Easter Bunny came to our house.”

The little sister wisely piped in, “But you could have just got all this stuff earlier.”

I kissed the top of her head and told her she's way too smart. They were happy and content. Then we danced...

Sleepdriving away

Sitting on the ledge. Praying to be pushed over.
Drained by the sad songs that make my heart ache fiercely.
Surprised by reactions.
Stronger than I give myself credit for and I hear it in my voice as I comfort my mother.
Anger seeps in from those that hold me dear.
Frozen in fear.
The numbness dissolved by incomprehension makes the darkness intimidating. I will force myself to march or stumble through it.
Scrapes, bruises and blood.
My despondent heart will not go unscathed.

Piece of me

In the excitement of starting our vacation, Strawberry took a tumble down our hardwood stairs. Of course, being a no good, capitalizing mommy blogger, I offered her five bucks to create a scandalous video for your entertainment!



She must have had too many Tim Hortons Iced Capps before her UFC promo spot because she’s talking super quickly. If you can’t make it out, she is saying, "Hey y'all. Would you want a piece of me? I'd like a piece of you! Bop! Daa! Gah! You should see the other guy..."

Money well spent!

Four long hours

I could tell he was excited that he was stripping me. He was ever so successful at it. I knew that he thought it was going to be a difficult task. I told him I was very cooperative.

He was attentive. He checked me over, again and again, giving it more time.

His hands were strong. He knew what he was doing.

When I was ready, I couldn't find the right words to express myself. I gave in and let him have his way with me. I had almost forgotten that it was that painful. Then I paid him an exorbitant amount of money.


Dearest Adam, my hairdresser. I never meant to be this blonde!

Trickery

“Good morning birthday girl.”
(sleepy smiles)
“How old are you today?”
“Three.”
“No, you’re four.”
“No.”
“Are you one?”
“No.”
“Are you two?”
“No.”
“Are you three?”
“Yes.”
“No you’re not. You’re four today!”
“Are you tricking me? I’m three!”
“Don’t you want to be four? Four is fun!”
“Three is fun. You’re tricking me. I’m not four. No one has sung happy birthday to me.”
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear buttercup. Happy birthday to you.”
(smiles coyly) “I haven’t had cake yet.”
“You’ll have cake at daycare! Hey do you want to open your presents?”
“YES!!!”
“How old are you?”
(holds up four fingers)
“Ok let’s go!”

Big gulp of air - Aaah, whooo...

Another day goes by and then another. This blog sits dormant and dusty. Without advertising pressure, (poof - gone!) I leave the sad, vague words that I'd rather push to the back of my mind and further down from the top, garnering the stray hits that visit. Hi there! Thanks for coming by. Oh look... a new post! Finally.

So here goes nothing, but wait something. Strawberry turned six. The age for me that held some of my most defining moments. Six! A year that brought the first time for sitting at desks and what was then a rite of passage, chickenpox. The year my teacher gave me two gold stars for cleverly handing in a page in my workbook "This is a picture of _______" and I filled in Nothing. Lesson learned: Be creative in finding ways to get out of doing work and you will be rewarded grandly!

Poor Strawberry came down with the flu before her big day, missed school and didn't even want to lick the icing off her cupcake.

Strawberry, I hope that you hold many memories close to your heart from this momentous year. Times of giggles, pure fun and magical ideas.

I made a huge batch of rainbow sprinkled cupcakes to take to daycare for her celebration. They ended up being tasty treats for the office. A few days later I went round two with the cupcakes and made more colourful sweets.

When I am not avoiding writing obscure nonsense to post here, I spend my free time doing my new favourite thing. Blip-blip blipty blipping, now new and improved with videos too!

My addictive personality and me are hook, line and sunk with this obsession. Be a DJ! So many songs, so little time... Sing along. Come and dance or wallow with me. I bounce all over the map depending on my many moods. My ramblings there are lyrics that I fancy from the songs that catch my heart. My station is updated way more frequently with beats and lush harmonies. It's so much easier to express myself with other people's music.