December 10, 2020

  • My looking glass?

    I have turned my dining room area into my office/artist/reader space with my husband's help as I have worked from home for the majority of the last two years and have been developing my psychic medium/tarot reading business. This space has one L shaped desk which faces the back of our home. This first desk is my primary desk; when I worked from home for brands like the WWE Shop and AEROPOSTALE using this desk. In the opposing corner, a second desk is set up with a velvet table cloth, crystals, a smudging kit, a small lamp shrouded in the hazy grey of some long-forgotten silk scarf. At some point, my husband decided to mount a 42' plasma screen on the wall to be used as an alternative screen. He searched during the pandemic and actually did go out in public to find the thunder cable from apple that would be necessary to connect this massive screen (which would then be displaying what I was doing on my lap top for um anyone in the entire house to see at all times... hmmm...) When he finally got it all set up, we realized that I did have a working USB mouse but not a USB keyboard. This meant that in order to actually use the laptop connected to the big screen, one using the laptop cannot lower the screen in such a way to effectively make use of the big screen. But my post isn't a complaint about technology, for the record. I am setting the stage, motherfucker.

    This means every time I am working on my laptop sitting at that desk (since that is where I am set up for pretty much everything I use my computer for) I end up sitting in my office with the lowest light on (I am pretty sure I also have sensory issues, its not just my HFA hubbster) which is a little light clipped up on the shelf with my WWE Raw Women's championship replica title belt, which sits right above that big plasma tv previously mentioned.

    So sitting with the laptop on the desk, the plasma tv just sits on the wall behind my laptop screen, turned off... not a problem, right? It isn't really a problem but something more curious...

    The lighting allows me to constantly and pretty clearly see my own reflection sitting at the desk.
    As I get deeper into learning more the ancient ways of the tarot and, of course, pair that with the stories from Alice in Wonderland since my business is Rabbit Hole Tarot (

    I read about things referencing through the looking glass multiple times a day... and I just sat here thinking, what if this is my version of a looking glass? Why am I being confronted with myself in this way?

    its funny, in that reflection I notice myself now.. my hair clean, straight, barely kissing the tops of my shoulders. No extensions. In this reflection, it doesn't look bad or even close to as hideous as I had been feeling it looked once I started to lose it from stress.

    I then start to look at her a little closer at the young lady sitting there. I decide to step outside of myself, pretend this woman sitting there isn't me. I decided to look her over as objectively as I can, this could be fun right?

    Then as soon as I look at her and see that she actually has a REALLY pretty face, I realize I am blushing.

    So here I am, making my last stand for my own goddamned sanity.

    I am a good person.
    I can figure this out.

    Who am I? I guess I am meant to get to know her now.

December 4, 2020

January 25, 2018

  • Blood Bank

    Up the rocky trail
    Already dizzied by the smell of you
    As my mind tried focusing on each step
    one in front of the other
    Thinking about your fingers
    Running so softly through my hair
    And I knew you could feel my lips ache
    For just one brief, simple kiss
    But I followed you there
    A little alcove in the mess of trees
    And you sat back in the dust
    And pulled me between your legs
    Looking up at that smile
    Like a million stars in the night sky
    Breathtaking yet calm
    Leaning back you wrapped your arms around me
    And the silence of the canyon
    Swept across us slowly
    Each breath bittersweet sonnets
    If only my heart could reach the distance
    The sun setting quickly
    A kiss finally mine
    My fingers laced with yours
    Life seemed to be blooming with possibilities
    I wanted to scream and let the noise echo
    Let the secret pour from my veins
    I've fallen desperately in love with you
    But just like my way up the trail
    This will take baby steps to reach my summit
    Or will you destroy me before my eyes
    May reach the beautiful horizon line?

January 12, 2018

  • a new year

    For more than a decade I have been burying my head in the sand with drugs. It has caused me nothing but pain and serious consequences. I have decided that there are many things I would accomplish during my 30th year on Earth and here are some big and some small goals:

    1. write more
    2. take better care of my mother
    3. use moderation
    4. become a better active listener. AND ACTUALLY LISTEN TO WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING not what you think they might "mean".
    5. do more art
    6. (and yes these are obvious) get a good job
    7. get a car
    8. get a cell phone of my own
    9. work out a payment plan with ASU to be able to get my transcripts to start a new program.
    10. research other universities that might not need my B.S. transcripts for admission
    11. get a bank account locally
    12. work on my credit
    13. continue to lose weight
    14. become a more logic based person vs. emotionally based person.
    15. seek counseling
    16. complete my deferred sentence (community service, fines, etc)
    17. create a personal and household budget (what is my portion of the bills)
    18. start saving
    19. Make a plan to move (in or out of state)
    20. work on myself before trying to find a relationship. FWBS are fine, but nothing more.

    These are just some of my thoughts as once again my insomnia plagues me.

October 21, 2017

  • Henry you danced like a wooden Indian.

    I'm going nowhere
    but I'd like to escape
    This mess, this torture
    public humiliation
    If only I could explain
    I just want a deep, dark hole
    some place to hide until its finished
    I want to be able to sleep at night
    this is just a figure 8
    looping back around to the same
    problems, shit, redundancy
    at its finest
    I can barely move
    this spot is warm and safe
    unbuckled my seat belt
    smoked cigarettes until I choked
    until there wasn't a single one left
    There isn't enough
    and there isn't really any
    The last bit was consumed
    why can't I be left alone?

October 14, 2017

  • Charlie Boy

    His tongue darted in my mouth
    As if he were trying to push the words down
    Shove each vowel down my throat
    Underestimating my gag reflex
    And nothing felt right
    Nothing felt good
    This is terribly forced
    And we are awful actors
    Lying to each other just to hold on
    This will all be over soon

October 12, 2017

  • read my mind

    I'm always counting chickens
    Before the eggs are even laid
    Now I don't have a thing to my name
    A borrowed phone, one last pack of smokes
    Not sure where I'll get another from
    Singing the blues
    I cry myself to sleep at night
    I wait until your breathing steadies
    and I know you are completely out
    and then I touch your face softly
    Trying to tell myself it will be okay
    Because of you
    and then the next day I watch
    as tears well up in his eyes
    feeling the whole weight of the world
    aching for what he has lost
    and I try not to ache for what I will lose
    I'm not stupid, I know this can't last forever
    (Why do all good things come to an end?)
    Waiting for the other shoe to drop
    Just piles on the anxiety
    But I can't blame his naivety
    When I was 18 I thought I'd spend forever with someone else
    And at 22, and 26
    the sad, unrelentless truth is everyone dies alone
    Everyone usually suffers alone
    And there is more of the world for him
    And I'm afraid, just one ticket
    So I'll stay behind and someday lick my wounds
    When he does move on
    If you could read my mind
    I'm trying to turn this all around
    Stuck on a carousel of problem after problem
    I don't even mind any more
    I'll just tackle it one thing at a time

October 11, 2017

  • Quantification

    How to we quantify things? By measuring them against other known constants but my question is, who quantified those? Where did we come up with things like,"That's a football field away"? And love, the most important thing of all is just one of the many things in the universe that cannot be quantified, it is fluid and liquid at the same time. It is a feeling, a rush, maybe crushing in your chest, maybe making your face muscles hurt from smiling so much... Then there is the hunt for the person that can make you feel that way. "Are you my soul, my heart, my demon in the dark, pull everything apart, are you gonna be my love?"- Shark, Oh Wonder. Then what do we do when we have this feeling and the other person becomes distant, is it just over? When do we draw a line in the sand... lord knows I have never been good with that shit, I usually draw the line then jump over it and run for the hills. We try to make all of these pretty little things in life; paintings, knick-knacks, add a personal touch to everything like our phones or computers. What makes us special? What makes there be more to this.. living day by day paycheck to paycheck

October 9, 2017

  • little bubble

    Snow falls still on the valley
    Underscoring tragedy and joy
    Lay me down, let my heart slow
    Use your instruments
    Pull it out, make it beat
    The box is locked
    And it holds the key
    Broken splinters on the floor
    Exit wounds and sarcastic smiles
    Tear apart every memory
    Of men and boys alike
    Who crushed me endlessly
    Now I watch what I say
    "I love you" is just a pacifier
    You're going to leave someday
    and I'm tired of pretending you won't
    I keep vomiting cliches
    Spit out all the words
    Anything everyone wants to hear
    Understanding that there really is nothing
    I am nothing but a puppet on a string
    Fine me a nice little bubble
    So you can observe me obey
    These chains are too heavy anymore

  • We live in a beautiful world

    Bad sneakers and a pina collata my friend
    when the days were so much more simple
    a joint, a glass of wine
    good music and backgammon
    before my heart was ever opened
    before so many men could tear it apart
    bold lies, open thighs, heavy breathing
    now he wants to protect me
    in tears he apologized for my past
    all the hurt and blood and sweat
    as the snow slowly falls
    I crave holding him in my arms
    I crave home, but that doesn't exist
    (except when I am with him)
    understated agony
    crumbling slowly each day
    pain covers me like a wet blanket
    then I realize I need warm gloves
    just to get the words out
    but we live in a beautiful world
    filled with dark corners
    heaven and hell just meaningless words
    I've seen the bottom of the pit
    I've crawled down the rabbit hole
    and now I am left with nothing