A life in threes

Month: October, 2013


Things are already getting quite difficult around here.

Please pray for me if you are so inclined.

Thank you.


Steak and potatoes for breakfast: totally legit.

A Repetitive Argument

He tells me that he is the key, and I am the door.
He is the bridge to all that I must remember.
He thinks that keys aren’t as important as doors.
He doesn’t realize that not every door requires a key to open it.
He doesn’t realize
How I chose to close myself up
When they told me I was crazy,
And I learned how to hide
And get by in this world.
I think that I’d rather be a key or a bridge, or a means to an end
Than to be what I am,
Pining after the touch of a friend.

I Want Your Hands On Me

I had some things to say, but then I got to thinking how words get in the way, sometimes.

It’s 2 AM where I am

…and this is all I’d really want right this minute , anyway.


One Art

By Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.


Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.


Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.


I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or

next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.


I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident

the art of losing’s not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.



I’m in a weird place. In my head.

People are calling me, people are texting me.

People are concerned for me.

They are sweet, kind, understanding.  They ask me how I feel; how I am doing.

I don’t know.

I called V this morning, and it felt weird, and he dodged a lot.

I don’t know what to think.

It makes me sad, it makes me worried.

Things are still the same in the situation – we both talk calmly, but there’s an underlying tension.

He and I talked for close to an hour, but  it seemed to go nowhere, no matter how long we talked, no matter what was said.

I feel calm, and feel OK…but then I get overwhelmed with emotion.

It feels like a mindfuck.

And not in a good way.