Can’t believe in gods,

who let men birth these children

hold their babies in their arms

breathe in their smell

feel the innocence of life

only to steal

precious moments away

to leave them barren

without fathers

lost to wander


childhoods and lives

asking why

to no avail

having finally received

the gift of life

to have it violently


ashes to ashes

never witnessing the growth

just slow decay

as fathers




never to bear



baby girl



let go

source: goodmenproject.com

source: goodmenproject.com

You let your hair grow long–

Dry curly bristles reaching

for the sky.


You let unruly scruff


your face, your chin, your

semi-circled fuzz,

you let it grow.


You wore a sleeveless shirt,

bearing muscles,

groomed and tended



You let yourself GO,

or BE

so ethnic and menacing.

crying in front of your coworkers

Today I cried in front of my coworkers. I have a vague sense of never going back–can’t take away the awkwardness of it all. And I’m not talking watery eyes or tears streaming down my cheeks. I’m talking full out can’t catch my breath on the verge of a panic attack all out sobbing.

Somehow, when you’re feeling really really awful and barely holding it together, someone always asks if you’re okay. Well, I don’t look or feel okay, but I’m trying to keep it together. And now that question is what breaks the dam and sends the floodgates opening.

I’m embarrassed. Like really embarrassed. But also drained from the emotions of it all.

Eleven years ago today, my mother passed away. I was twenty. She battled cancer for four years, and lost.

This morning was okay until my brother sent an email that was nice–he had a dream about my mom and he said she’s always in his heart and that eleven years ago today we lost someone special. Well, that email did it. That email triggered the first of many hysterical crying sessions.

So now here I am writing about it and trying not to feel bad. I know it’s not shameful, people have emotions and sometimes we all lose it. But I don’t like to be that vulnerable, I don’t like to be that exposed, around anyone let alone people who I work with. It’s personal. It strikes to the very core of who I am, and it destroys the happy girl facade I work to maintain everyday.

So that’s it. I cried in front of my coworkers, quite hysterically, and now I’m hoping writing about it will somehow make it better. Well, sadly it hasn’t. I really just need this day to end.

On Friendship and Ageing and Being Single

Source: chaseandbeenchased.wordpress.com

Source: chaseandbeenchased.wordpress.com

Well, I’ve come to realize a sad reality lately. My worth as a friend seems to have deteriorated for one simple reason: I’m single. Now, I’m not looking to find fault or lay blame, I’m merely observing what has come to be the norm for me, as a single person surrounded by coupled friends.

Making plans is difficult, because they need to check with their significant other, and see if he/she has plans that day. It would be easier if I had a partner, and their partner could also join. This always puts me second, behind their partner. In some ways I get it and in others I wish things could be different, that we could still  maintain our own friendship despite the fact that they are coupled and I’m not.

Confirming plans is harder. There’s no need to let me know in advance if they’re coming or not, or to block off that weekend to spend time together. They assume I will have nothing to do. They will assume they can string me along and let me know last minute. If their plans fall through then certainly we can hang out. If not, that’s too bad, but either way I will probably not be doing anything anyways so I can wait for an answer right?

Well. This is turning out to be far more bitter than I imagined. I guess the more I think about it the more I find the whole thing so offensive. I understand it in some ways and in other ways it feels so disrespectful. Why do friendships have to change as we age? Well, as people form bonds and families, priorities shift and being single makes you quite the pariah. It makes you an outcast.

Even if you’ve come to terms with being single, if you’re  content with your life and if you desire a relationship but don’t center your life on finding one, well you’re out of luck. You’re out of luck because you just don’t fit in anymore, you just can’t be part of the gang anymore. You stand out. You’re a wheel. No one can relate to you and your online dating woes. No one can relate to your tales, your experiences, where you’re at in your life. They’re not there, they’ve moved on, and they think what you need is to catch up.