Monthly Archives: June 2009

Perfectly Unnatural

Flight 1448 from New York to Italy would leave without one passenger. That one passenger was you. It was supposed to be the third and final flight you would board that day, but you had missed your connecting flight. Everything had gone as planned until you sat down in the impersonal gray airport chair drinking your overpriced orange juice. All day you had been thinking about a girl back home that you were already missing, and she occupied your thoughts as you twirled the bottle of juice in your hands. You started reading the label to distract yourself and noticed that it said, “Shake well, separation is natural,” right over the nutrition facts. To most anyone else this phrase meant nothing, but to you it was significant.

Separation is natural. Separation is natural. Separation is natural. You were feeling quite contrary to this statement at the moment. Separation had never felt more unnatural to you in your whole life. You supposed longing, sadness, and loneliness were natural but felt certain that for you, separation was not at all natural. It was anything but natural to pack up your life and leave the girl you loved to do an internship in Italy for four years. You sat there in the airport pondering this for some time. You didn’t even notice that all the people waiting at the gate had boarded the plane or that they’d called your name several times on the overhead speakers. You just sat there thinking about her. You pulled out your cell phone to see what time it was and noticed that you had one new message in your inbox. Your heart started beating faster and faster as you wished and hoped that the message was from her. You tried to calm yourself down and prepare for the worst but it was simply not working. As you clicked on the message, your heart crumpled to pieces as you saw it was from your Mom, wishing you a safe trip. You’d never been more upset over a text message. As you pressed the button to turn the phone off, your inbox noted another new message. The phone was already shutting off but you weren’t too upset, you suspected it was another message from your mom again. She’d never entirely understood texting etiquette and often sent multiple messages with a sentence in each message.

You put the phone in your pocket and got out your flight information to see when this damn plane was leaving. You then realized that you’d never even looked at the time on your phone and fished it out to see how late it was. It was nine-thirty; your flight had left at seven. You sighed loudly and thought about what you needed to do to book a new flight. You felt overwhelmed and decided to procrastinate by reading the message you suspected was from your mom. To your surprise, it was not from your mom, but from the girl who never seemed far from your thoughts. It was simple message but it was enough to convince you that you could not go to Italy. You grabbed your things and ran off to get a ticket to fly home.

The next flight to your home state was leaving in six hours and this tore down your anticipatory excitement. You bought the ticket then went to that gate and sat down on the thin carpet in the corner. You were much too anxious to sleep or read so you decided to call her. She answered on the third ring and you heart seemed to fill with joy as you heard her voice. You didn’t want to frighten her and tell her that you weren’t going to Italy because of your feelings for her, but at the same time, you wanted her to know how you felt. Instead, you told her that it just didn’t feel like the right decision. She asked you why and although you planned to blame it on your missed flight, you ended up telling her the truth. You told her how unnatural separation really was and how terrible it already was to be apart from her. She told you that she had been hoping that you wouldn’t go through with the move ever since you had told her about it. It was nice to feel as though you both were on the same page and you felt as though you could talk more freely to her afterwards. She told you that she wished she could be there to keep you company and that she’d talk with you until it was time to board your flight. You spent the rest of the night smiling, talking to her, and feeling more certain about your decision. The hours passed by quickly with her. The flight home seemed unbearably long as you waited to see her and you could hardly stop moving in your seat. When the plane landed, you ran through the airport to find her and then leaned her back to kiss her as if you were both starring in a movie from the fifties. Your luggage was currently in Italy so you took her hand and walked out of the terminal. Being together with her was unquestionably natural.



You thought I was really quiet but really I was just lost in the forest of thoughts that took over my mind. It was not supposed to be this way. I was so sure my life’s fairytale was leading me towards Happily Ever After but I was quickly learning that my life was not that type of book. I was somehow just out of your sightline and I felt less than invisible. I just wanted to sit in a corner and cry to someone who could return my optimism but instead I had to put on a plastic smile and waterproof mascara. I don’t even know if anyone noticed that the smile was falling off like a fake mustache. Internally, I had crawled into a hole and soon forgot how to get back out. I watched through held back tears as you laughed and smiled with the others. I had promised myself that I wasn’t going to let anything make me upset and yet there I was, entirely distraught. I compiled the facts and my thoughts in my brain’s calculator and it computed that I should do nothing. Nothing other than look a bit happier and be a bit friendlier. I worked on being more lively and less of a paper doll and eventually I wasn’t pretending to be happy one hundred percent of the time. I was able to really feel the foreign emotion for much of the day. This happiness made me stand a little taller and suddenly you saw me.

In the back of your mind you realized I had been there the whole time and even wondered how I had blended in with the wallpaper. You tried to get my attention and for a millisecond I tried to pretend that I didn’t notice, but I couldn’t do it. I looked in your eyes and you looked down at my soul. You saw the picket fences I had tried to put up around it and the band-aids holding it together. You knew at that moment that I needed you and was doing everything I could to act as if I didn’t. You approached me and my heart with caution, afraid to break anything other than the fences, and I held my breath. I wasn’t sure if you realized just how fragile I was. But you knew. You knew me. I didn’t need Happily Ever After, that was the end of the book, I just needed to be there with you in the moment.


Walking to Forever

It had been a cool day, but not cold, and now the encroaching clouds seemed to foreshadow a dark and suspicious night. It probably wouldn’t be though. Nothing exciting ever really happened here. The man and the woman walked down the sidewalk slowly, hands linked. They kept on down the path until it ended in sandy beach. Neither of them said a word. Although they were both in heavy coats and jeans they continued to walk straight into the ocean. Their progress slowed as the water level became deeper but they did not stop walking, hand-in-hand. At last they could no longer touch the wet sand beneath them and they allowed themselves to sink under the power of the waves. When they lifted their heads from the water with deep breaths of moist blue air they started to hum the same song at the exact same time. They smiled at each other and swam hand-in-hand back to the dry sand.


the surf

With a vengeance it crashes upon itself and races to the sand and to
the toes of children. It washes away the past silently, leaving a smell of moist salt.
Even the most significant of sand castles doesn’t stand a chance.
At first it appears to be intimidating and threatening
but this doesn’t last. Soon
it is
like an old friend coming
for a short visit, caressing the sand and only
frightening to naïve children and birds that wait unassumingly.



I wrote this earlier in the year for my poetry class but I thought I’d post it and maybe a few others.

Nothing can be done

you must stay static on your
crimson couch
and listen to the twirling thoughts that
have at your head

you must allow the tears that drip
from the depths of your
sea blue eyes
to make streaks down your cheeks

Nothing can be done


Sun-kissed Optimism

We left the beach a little after sunset when our bathing suits felt cold against our sandy skin and our faces were pink from the sun. I had driven there but you decided that you would drive back to the house. I fussed over every song the ipod shuffled to but you didn’t get annoyed. You smiled with your green eyes and told me a song you wanted to listen to. I started singing the words I knew very quietly but you told me you had chosen this song so I would sing for you. I was shy about singing in front of anyone but I sang for you on that dark night drive. You let me have the first shower and when I came out of the bedroom in my blue sundress you were playing guitar on the porch. I sat down beside you in silence and listened to you play. I loved the noise your fingers made as they slid on the strings and I closed my eyes in contentment. You kissed my freckled shoulder and I blushed. You knew and understood me so well, and it had seemed like this since the first time we met. When we finally gave in to our heavy eyelids that night I fell asleep quickly against your chest, breathing in the light scent of aloe vera. I awoke early the next morning and was unbelievably happy that it had not been an elaborate dream. I was always scared that you were a creation of my imagination and I kissed your cheek to guarantee that this was not the case. You smiled and seemed genuinely pleased with my decision to wake you this way. The morning light was crisp and full of optimism and I think we both knew that the summer had so much more in store for us.


Finals Week

I haven’t posted a lot lately because my creativity and time is drained due to the quarter ending and now finals week. I wrote this poem during last quarter’s finals week when I was writing a paper in the middle of the night and going quite insane.

Finals week feeling weak
a Monster drink-induced haze
starts to fill up my gaze
not reading never pays
i’m sleeping through the days
next week

yeah it’s gettin late
but it’s crunch time
i really want to munch time
wishin for lunch time
facebook costs me a buncha time
failing is my fate

I’m dancing like a crazy
trying not to sleep
my pile of books is gettin steep
I’m buried pretty deep
time’s starting to really creep
shouldn’t a been so lazy



Anxious. Oh so anxious. There’s an anxious balloon inside of me that is quickly inflating and threatening to burst. I just need to get out of here, and soon. Sometimes the balloon gets so big that I have to find creative ways to let the air out. I’ve packed up the majority of my cubicle of a room many times, only to unpack it again when I realize that I still have a week left and need some of my things. This apartment feels so contaminated and cold. Spiders crawl out of every crack and crevice and lizards have slid inside under the door too many times. I long to take showers without sandals, use a dishwasher, and eat homemade food. Summer cannot come quick enough.


summers of the nineties

It wasn’t a very big hammock but we fit on it together easily. The palm trees created just enough shade from the overwhelming sunshine and we rocked back and forth in the slight breeze. We wore neon bathing suits, our faces were sticky from fruity popsicles, and we didn’t have a care in the world. We giggled for hours over the littlest things and pointed out animal-shaped clouds to each other. We ran around in the sprinklers or splashed each other with the hose and never felt bored. The days were ours and we did what we wanted with them until dinner time. If we were especially good and our beds were made, we’d get to play outside even in the dark. Sometimes we would stay awake past our bedtimes and tell stories with just our faces lit up by a flashlight. We were sisters and best friends so summers were always perfect.