blow me away

I haven't really been updating the way that I used to. i think its just one of those things...like i only right poetry when i'm sad...or confused...and i only blog when i'm lonely.

i guess i'm not so lonely right now. well maybe i am since i'm writing....i'm in between places right now.

i've started sending out applications again. for school. for anything. i've been looking at apartments...but i doubt i'll move anywhere. i just settle where i am and get comfortable and never leave.

i'm comfortable in the job i'm in. i wish it were more...and it has potential of being more...but i literally have nothing to complain about. id be more comfortable with a car and since Methuselah decided to kick the bucket last week i'm kind of SOL.

i'm trying to learn who this new aaron is. he's changed. he's different. in a good way i think...more independant than i remember. less needy...which is what i wanted...but now its strange...like watching a child leave his mother and go to school for the first time. that knowing that you're not needed anymore

his need was suffocating me

and now i long for the struggle


but at night when he holds me...reaching out to clasp me. the pull. the strength...i see it there. those shoulders. those arms. the need beneath it all.


we both know we can survive apart. we've done it. we were fine. but maybe we needed that time apart...that survival to know that we prefer it together...



but i still wait for him. his calls. his arrival. him...and when he's not here i miss it. the smell of him. the strength of him. his face...i tell him that in emails

i miss your face

and it seems so little and inconsequential...and childish...but i wonder if he understands it at all. that moment that has been crystallized into my memory. looking at him. just looking at him for the first time in months...and...for once i'm at a lose for words

there he was. the man i always remembered. as if i had trapped time in a bottle and simple stepped back in to where i had stood before. and i traced the bridge nose with my finger. and ran my fingers through his hair...and everything that i knew and didn't know and wished to know and never wanted to know and...everything was there


and i realized how much i'd missed it

and him


just by looking at him....




ok away from my melodramatic memories...i'm back to applying for school. any and every program in the area that i could be accepted into. I just need to get somewhere and do something and move on with me life. i'm watching it pass me by and its depressing.


i don't have a plan. i know that now. i'm ok with that now.

i wanted something etched in stone.

day one.


year one.


entry: I know what I want to do...

but i don't...and i'm fine with that. but i do want to be in school. i don't care what school. i don't care what program...but maybe once i'm there i will. maybe once i'm there things will start to fall into place the way that they used to...or everything will fall apart the way that it used to...and i'll figure out what is going on in the end

well we'll see where we go from here...we'll see where the wind takes me from here...


i'll just let it up and blow me away

for roses

My mother has a way with words

spoken softly

matter-of-fact -ly

as if her lyrics are well known

rather than thoughts

and ideas

She sets them up across a page

like a dance

_______________each

__________put

____________________in its

_____place

to show

the story she’s trying to tell

My sister poems

come out like songs

With colors as emotions

Each thought and meaning

_____1_____

__________2__________

_______________3___________________

things to

______5______

____________6____________

_________________7_________________

people

_____“why must I be

__________so black and blue”

like a negativity to

stretch ability

all in search of stability

in a ___ blue_____ green_____ aquamarine

swirling world

of chaos

I didn’t inherit their way with words

From poet to poet

__I don’t know if

I’m a poet.

___or simply a journal -ist

whose words sometimes __________ fit

I admire your skill

Much like that homeboy

_____(That phone boy)

who sketches his poetry into art

_____his guns are pencils

_____ his bullets paint

his dreams and prayers covered those walls

__________where I sat.

Ironically

You remind me of him…

I’m not looking for love

But I do appeal for this

A single application

____for a friend

If you don’t apply

nothing lost, nothing gained

But the thought

That is all.

That beneath the millions stars

there are two that understand

the friendship

written between the lines

__________of text