Hard to Handle

Sometimes I have a bad temper,
and an attitude to match.
Sometimes I get moody
and I seem a little detached.
Sometimes I just want to cry
because I get so overwhelmed,
and I always need to be reassured,
to be loved, to be held.

Sometimes I get bossy
when things don't go my way.
Sometimes I can be a diva
when I've had a long, tough day.
Sometimes I get too motherly
with the people I care about the most-
and I get so mad when people hurt
the ones I hold so close.

So don't tell me you love me
if I'm too much for you to handle.
Don't tell me you love me
if your love flickers out like a candle.
Don't tell me you love me
if your love casually comes and goes.
I'm hard to love but I'm worth it-
and I need a love that grows.

Sometimes I get bitchy
when my hormones are out of whack.
Sometimes I whine like a child
when I've done something to hurt my back.
Sometimes I get disappointed
because my life isn't what I thought it'd be,
and I need my man to lift me up
when I'm not at the best that I can be.

Sometimes I get a little too wild
when I go party with my friends.
Sometimes I stay out too late
and you'll wonder where I've been.
Sometimes I act too young for my age
but I see no good reason to grow old.
And I need someone to run wild with me,
that will never let our fire go cold.

So don't tell me you love me
when you see that I'm a little rough.
Don't tell me you love me
and then decide you're not man enough.
Don't tell me you love me
if you can't handle me at my worst.
I'm hard to love but I'm worth it,
and I'm sick of getting hurt.

Sometimes I get so bored with life
and my gypsy side wants to run.
Sometimes I long for the family life,
to grow roots with a special someone.
Sometimes I feel so hopeless
because I get a little lost in my own mind.
Sometimes I can't see the bright side
because my faith has gone blind.

Sometimes I dream of getting married again,
and having children of my own.
Sometimes I long for the American dream-
the white picket fence, the home.
Sometimes I lose sight of it all
and want to stay in bed for days.
I'll hate my jobs and the town I'm in
and walk around in a haze.

So don't tell me you love me
if you think I've become a burden.
Don't tell me you love me
if you just add to my hurtin'.
Don't tell me you love me
if it's just a downright lie,
I'm hard to love but I'm worth it
and need a man that won't make me cry.

Turning the Page

Turning the Page
©Meesa Caudill

Lost sight of what it meant to be me,
need a new chapter and a new pen.
Leaving behind what used to be,
and all of the pain I've been in.
Gonna let go and start all over,
a fresh, positive start in mind.
I realize I've gotta take care of me,
protect and love what's mine.
So I'm letting go of you and our past,
I'm exhausted from this rage.
It's time to write a new chapter in my life-
this is me turning the page.

Turning the page to write a new story
of the life with which I've been blessed.
I'm turning the page to begin a new chapter
without you and all of our mess.
I'm turning the page to start all over,
so many blank pages for me to fill.
I'm turning the page, it's all about me,
and what's left in my life that's real.

It's time to let go of the story of us
and start the story of me.
It's been long overdue, I'm so over you
and all of our history.
No more believing in fairy tales,
I've got one of my own to write.
So I'm grabbing my pen and healing my heart
and moving on with my life.

Spotless Mind (yep, movie inspired!)

Spotless Mind
© Meesa Caudill


At this point in all our lives
we've all been deeply burned-
worlds have been flipped upside down,
we've suffered tremendous hurt.
We've all been through hell,
sometimes twice, and back again-
tried to swear off love,
enjoyed our fun living in sin.
Some of us are free to bare our scars-
most wear them like badges-
some people try to hide them-
cover them with emotional patches.

If only we could forget old wounds,
somehow wipe the slate clean.
New love wouldn't suffer sins of the old,
in fights, we wouldn't be so mean.
We live our lives & try to heal the pain,
hoping to leave our memories behind.
Wanting so badly to forget the pain...
Eternal Sunshine of A Spotless Mind.

We've built up concrete walls to our hearts,
hoping someone strong could tear them down.
With each new love we hope and pray
but they never stick around.
We push them away or we choose to run,
heart is too fragile for another crack.
If we lose ourselves to love again,
we may never find our way back.
So we carry on trying to heal the pain,
heal the damage that's been done to our soul.
We want so badly to forget the past,
unsuccessful at letting it go.

If only we could forget old wounds,
somehow wipe the slate clean.
New love wouldn't suffer sins of the old,
in fights, we wouldn't be so mean.
We live our lives & try to heal the pain,
hoping to leave our memories behind.
Wanting so badly to forget the pain...
Eternal Sunshine of A Spotless Mind.

Add caption

It Could Happen To Anyone

It Could Happen to Anyone
© Meesa Caudill


I used to love my big little city, but now Lexington drains my soul. *sigh*

Every day I watch them, the homeless, as they walk past my windows at work, or as I pass them in my car while I'm on my lunch. Every day I see their worn faces, showing no trace of hope, as they limp up Second Street. As I watch them, I can't help but wonder who they used to be. The broken men I see wandering the streets now are someone's sons, brothers. Some of them are someone's dad, someone's uncle, someone's best friend. I often wonder what their story is, how they ended up in this place in their lives. Yes, quite often drug addiction or alcoholism is to blame- but what led them to that, even? A lot of them are veterans who get lost in the ridiculous system that is the "VA".

How many of you reading this automatically judge these men when you roll past them in your car? How many of you assume that if you give him a few dollars he'll go get a beer? How many of you assume that he's there because he's a loser/criminal/druggie and therefore deserves the misery? Have you ever truly LOOKED at some of them and wondered where their paths were lost and how they ended up on a gravel road of despair?

It could happen to any one of us.

Do me a favor and think about this, in depth, for just a few minutes. Allow me take you to another dimension where your world is the one flipped upside down... I'll even give you a few scenarios just to be sure you "get it".

You're a 30 year old man who has done hard, manual labor since you were old enough to work. You started out mowing lawns and working on cars in your spare time to working a full time job in the construction industry- building houses, roofing, painting, etc. Or you've worked in a factory since you were 18 years old and time is catching up with you. One day you wake up and realize you can barely move because your back is out. You go to the doctor and walk out with a prescription of pain pills and, because you cannot function because of the pain, you take them as prescribed. A 2 week prescription of pain pills and muscle relaxers isn't going to cut it- this is a permanent back injury- so you're on this medication for months. After a few months you realize the prescribed dosed just isn't cutting it anymore, you've gotten immune, so you have to take more and the doc won't prescribe you anything else. You need to be pain free in order to work to keep a roof over your head and to feed you and your family. So you start buying them from the street. Next thing you know, you're addicted. All because you were hurt. Now, your wife is leaving you because she can't take the lying about the addiction, the lying about where all your money is going, and being evicted and losing electricity because all your money goes to the pain pills. Next, you've been evicted- you're alone, you have no money because most of it goes to your pills to kill the pain, and now you have nowhere to go. You're homeless. You're a good, hardworking man but life dealt you a shitty hand.

OR

You're a hard working divorced woman, two children, and a stable, decent paying job. One morning you go into work and are called in to your boss's office for him to tell you that due to budget cuts they have to let you go. You've had no warning. Your parents can't help you because they are either broke or already passed on, your friends have their own problems and can't help you, and the father of your children does his legal minimum to help. Because of the economy, jobs are few and far between and because of your childcare schedule you can't just take any job offered because you have no sitter. You made good money at your job but unemployment doesn't cut it on paying rent, bills, childcare, and groceries. You can't get assistance because even on unemployment you "make too much money". Rent is due and so are all the utilities. Your utilities get turned off. You get an eviction notice on your door telling you that you have 14 days to move. In two weeks you and your children are now homeless with nowhere to go. You're a good, hardworking woman but life dealt you a shitty hand.

OR

You're a 25 year old man fresh home from Afghanistan. You were a normal, healthy teenage boy when you decided to join the military. Now you're aged before your time, physically disabled from the shrapnel in your leg, and you're suffering from PTSD. Dealing with the general public causes you anxiety, you can't physically do hard, manual labor and you don't have a degree or experience in anything other than military- so finding a job that pays more than minimum wage isn't easy. Your PTSD causes you to have night terrors which leaves you exhausted and unable to wake up on time for work, so any job you do find that you're able to do fires you because of excessive tardiness. You are on medication for your PTSD, you get lost in the cracks of the "VA", and you don't have the money to live in your own place. No family or friends that are able to help you out- you end up homeless. You're a good, hardworking soldier who fought for this country but life dealt you a shitty hand.

Yes, I know some of you will argue until you're blue in the face about how you think all homeless people are trash and why they deserve what they've got- but the above scenarios could happen to any of you. It happens every day, and now more often than you think.

http://www.nationalhomeless.org/publications/facts/Whois.pdf

According to: http://www.kyhousing.org/KICH/Content.aspx?id=2861&terms=homeless

"During the 2010 count, which took place on January 28, 6,623 homeless individuals were identified. The 2009 count located 5,999 homeless individuals, although a major ice and snow storm that hit the state around the same time of the count altered plans and prohibited efforts for the count.

• 1,460 homeless respondents were severely mentally ill.
• 2,032 homeless respondents were chronic substance abusers.
• 1,071 homeless respondents were victims of domestic violence.
• 564 homeless respondents were veterans.
• 15 percent of homeless individuals were completely without shelter across the state on the day of the count."

A lot of you look at these men and see trash. You see something you could never relate to. I look at these people and see wasted potential, faded dreams, and broken souls.

And that, my friends, is what breaks my heart.

Where the Grass Grows on Tears - Survivor of Suicide

Where the Grass Grows on Tears
© Meesa Caudill


We talk to stone and spill our hearts,
not knowing whether we're heard.
Many regrets, unspoken goodbyes,
lives left behind filled with hurt.
Flowers and trinkets and tokens of love
placed with care on the ground.
Praying that one day our loved ones can rise
and see that we still come around.
We cringe on anniversaries,
flashbacks of moments frozen in our minds-
the last words they spoke echo in our brains,
the pain never erased with time.
Photos make us smile, but also make us cry-
videos tear us apart.
Wishing we could just touch their skin,
hear their voice, reanimate their heart.
But instead we're left here wondering
about the what if's, how's, and whys.
Wishing we could have just one more day
to convince them to save their own lives.
No chance for goodbye, no more "I love you's",
just lots of anger and pain through the years.
You left us here to sleep for eternity
in the land where the grass grows on tears.

©Meesa Caudill

Don't Make Me Fall In Love (A writing experiment...)

Time to clear the brain again! I was doing good on the writing each night for a few days but I slipped again. I just mixed up a cake and have it in the oven for 40 minutes, so I'm gonna take this time to spill out some thoughts in font. My buddy Jason Sheffield gave me a few key phrases to build on and so I think I'm gonna experiment with that. I'm gonna try to throw a few in, hopefully all if my brain will let me! Let's see where it takes me! (Again, thanks Jason!)

The key phrases:
* Looking forward to the past
* Hitchhiking in a ghost town
* Dont make me fall in love
* Six feet under but climbing
* I'm not a sex toy
* Seeing in the dark

(okay, after a few minutes of deliberating, I don't believe I can do it with all of them at once. BUT I am going to allow the ideas to sink in and see what I come up with!)


Don't Make Me Fall In Love
© Meesa Caudill


Don't look at me
as if
I'm the only one in the room
if,
in your peripherals,
you're checking out
that girls
ass.
Don't speak to me
in that soft tone,
telling me your
secrets,
dreams,
and fears
if all you're doing
is trying
to convince me
to
fuck you.
Don't make me laugh
by being
charming
and witty
if the joke turns out
to be
on me.
Don't caress my skin
as if it's made of
priceless silk
if your only intentions
are to caress me
into
false intimacy.
Don't tell me I'm beautiful
and that I'm perfect
in your eyes
if you find perfection
in everything
with
tits.
Don't tell me that
you love me if,
in reality,
the only love
you have ever felt
is for
yourself.
Don't convince me
that I'm the only object
of your desires
if you get hard
at the
thought
of one of my
best friends
naked.
Don't fool me
into believing
that you're the perfect man
when my mind
(when logical)
knows there
is no such thing.
Don't make me
fall
in love
with
you.

Thunderstorm of You

Thunderstorm of You
© Meesa Caudill



My life was like a cloud-free day,
not a drop of rain in sight.
The air was crisp, the beginning of fall-
a perfect autumn night.
With just one glance you were there,
no warning, no alarm.
Like a funnel cloud to a storm chaser
I was entranced by your charm.
Our first days together were sunny and bright,
a few rainbows here and there.
And suddenly there was a dark cloud,
a heaviness in the air.

I had my days in the sun
and then the clouds came rollin' in.
I didn't heed the warning
when the thundering began.
My heart was struck by lightening,
there was a flash, and we were through.
How in the world does a girl survive
the thunderstorm of you?

The tears poured down like torrential rain,
your voice so loud, so full of thunder.
No flash flood warning to save me this time-
I felt myself go under.
Our angry words were hailing down,
striking our souls to the core.
I tried to run, tried to hide-
needed shelter from the storm.
So now I wait while it passes,
praying for crisp air and clear skies.
Hoping I no longer see
the dark clouds in your eyes.

I had my days in the sun
and then the clouds came rollin' in.
I didn't heed the warning
when the thundering began.
My heart was struck by lightening,
there was a flash, and we were through.
How in the world does a girl survive
the thunderstorm of you?

4 years, 6 months, 3 days...

Not one day has passed, not ONE, that I haven't thought about my dad.

Not one week has passed that I haven't had at least one dream with him in it, be it a nightmare or bittersweet.

And not one moment goes by that I don't wish with everything in my still-broken heart that he was still here.

It's been four and a half years now. The pain is more tolerable now, or at least I've learned to live in denial like a pro. It still hurts though, even if it doesn't feel like it's killing me. It's only unbearable when I really allow myself to think about the details. I don't do that very often. I still hear that I need professional help to deal with it, even though it's been so long now. And a few months ago I finally allowed myself to admit that those who have told me that are right.

Often times, before I write one of my notes, blogs, or statuses about him or my son, I wonder if people are sick of reading about it. I don't understand why I even care. So many times throughout my days, I walk around with a smile on my face or trying to make jokes in order to make everyone around me feel good. I try not to show my true emotions because I know most people don't know what to say and it makes them uncomfortable.

So many times I've wondered what he was thinking in the split second before he pulled that trigger. I know he was arguing with his mother about my mom. Was he angry? Was he hurt? Or was he just so sick of the bullshit that he just didn't care anymore? Did he think about me? Did he think about what he was doing to my mom, my sister, his grandchildren? Why didn't he leave us a note? He knew he was going to do it. Why didn't he call?

And so many times I get angry with everyone. I'm angry at almost his entire family. I would go through and list everyone and my reasoning behind it but I won't allow myself to do that. I'll wait until I can afford a shrink to go through my list one-by-one. All I can say is that I hope each of them feel the pain I do, tenfold, every day. No matter how much I love them, I blame them for my dad not being here. I know that a psychiatrist will assure me that I'm just fucked in the head and there's no one to blame but him, but I will always see things differently.

I wonder who will walk me down the aisle if I ever get married again. I don't even know if I'll ever be able to without him. He always said he wouldn't "give me away" twice. Guess he wasn't lying.

If I ever have another child, he won't be here. He left when I was pregnant with my son and that kills me. Didn't he even want to meet him if I had made it to full term? Did he think we'd be better off without him???

Although it's been over four years, the pain has become more tolerable but the questions remain. And the anger... the anger sometimes sears through me, so much so that I feel like I could burst into flames.

I am angry at the world.

Nothin'

Nothin'
© Meesa Caudill


He says he's workin' late tonight,
don't bother waiting up...
walks in the door at 3 am,
smelling like the club.
But smoke and bourbon can't hide the smell
of perfume on his shirt,
Pretending to sleep, holding back tears,
she lets anger replace the hurt.
Next morning as she cooks breakfast
he reads the paper to relax.
He sees the look on her face, guilt eats him away,
"What's wrong?" he start to ask.
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."

But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's fire in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she sees through your lies.
Don't think she's naive when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".

He's still "at work" at midnight
and she knows it'll be hours before he's home.
She's out on the town with her best friends...
it's her turn to roam.
Tall, dark, and handsome is standing by the bar,
and he keeps looking her way...
some flirty conversation and a few drinks later
she decides to play.
She's cozy in bed by the time he gets home,
now the guilt kicks in for her.
Pretending she's asleep, she can't hold back the tears,
and she can't hide the hurt.
He kisses her gently on the cheek
as he climbs into bed.
As she kisses him back he can barely see her face,
wet from the tears she's shed.
He's afraid to hear the painful answer
to what he's known all along
wrapping his arms around her,
again he ask's "What's wrong?"
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."

But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's guilt in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she tells her own lies.
Don't think she's innocent when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".

I Knew Better

I knew better.
I should have known better.
You'd think I'd know better
than to go falling for you.

I shouldn't let you linger in my head
or be inspired to write songs about you...
I shouldn't be haunted by your eyes-
I knew what I was getting myself into.
I knew that you were dangerous-
I told you that from the start...
I didn't want you to touch me
for fear of you ripping out my heart.
Yet I ignored my instincts
and told myself you were 'just fun'-
I've tried so many times to quit you
but there's nowhere for me to run.

I knew better.
I should have known better.
You'd think I'd know better
than to go falling for you.
Punish me, I deserve it-
tear out my heart, you know you're going to.
I knew better.
I should have known better.
You'd think I'd know better
than to go falling for you.

Each time you come back tempting me
and I can't tell you no-
you know how to get inside my brain...
now you're invading my soul.
When you're not here I think of you-
when you're here I don't want you to leave...
I'm so stupid for letting you get to me-
how could I have been so naive???
And how can you be so cruel to me
to let this carry on-
knowing that I can't let you go
yet, in the morning you'll be gone.

So go ahead, tear out my heart-
we both know you're going to...
I expect the pain, I expect the tears-
my punishment for falling for you.

You're My Karma... For You

I've always heard that Karma's a bitch
and I've learned that the hard way so many times...
so you would think I would have known better
than to commit anymore karmic crimes.
But then that summer night you looked my way
and I wasn't sure why, but I knew it was wrong...
but the feel of your body dancing against mine
made me want time to stop to a never ending song.
The smell of your clothes, the heat of your skin,
your strong arms around me all night...
there was something about you that made me cautious
and yet the butterflies still took flight.
I tried so hard to turn you down
but your magnetism was too strong to resist...
and I knew I was wrong but I was hooked-
addicted upon first kiss.
So now you're my weakness, you're my addiction,
you're my pain... I have to make it through.
You're my payback- my heart is the fee ,
you're my karma for falling for you.

Seventeen

4 a.m., alone again, in front of this old computer screen...
playing songs that take me back to the days of seventeen.
I was young and wild- the taste of freedom exciting & new...
didn't have a care in the world... and all I wanted was you.
I gave you my heart that winter, gave you my soul that spring...
you gave me a key to keep around my neck, years later you gave me a ring.
We promised each other forever, not knowing forever just wouldn't be-
and now I sit here so many years later, ghosts of the past still haunting me.
Real love has evaded me since you, true emotion I can't seem to find.
I've been told that I'm too guarded, they tell me my wall is too high.
No one even dares to climb it, they damn sure don't try to tear it down-
I guess they know that once they cross it, your ghost is still around.

My Dream (RIP Ike Davis)

I had a dream last night
that you were still alive.
You were standing near me smiling
with a twinkle in your eyes.

You told me that you loved me
and I said I loved you too-
we embraced in a warm hug
and I told you how much I missed you.

You told me you were worried about me
because it was me that just got shot.
But I told you I was doing fine,
when in reality I'm not.

I told you I couldn't believe you were here
because you died so long ago,
but you said you hadn't really died-
you just had somewhere to go.

As we hugged one last time
I awoke to reality.
I looked around the room for you
but your face I did not see.

I realized it was just a dream
and that you were really gone-
my mind has understood this
but my heart just won't move on.

I still picture you at 13 years old
back when I saw you all the time-
and my heart always looks for you
although you are gone in my mind.

You were always my baby brother,
or least in my eyes-
and now when I remember those days
I can't help it but to cry.

I wish it could have stayed that way
and maybe you wouldn't be dead-
and I could see you again every day
and not just from the dreams in my head.

I Hope

I hope you're happy-
you broke my heart.
I hope you're satisfied-
I'm torn apart.

I hope your days are bright
while mine are filled with rain.
I hope your body is numb
while mine is filled with pain.

I hope you're having fun
while I cry myself to sleep.
I hope you're really in love.
Oh, God, it hurts so deep.

I hope you're in paradise
while I'm in a burning hell.
I hope you're thinking of me,
but if you were you'd never tell.

I hope your dreams come true
while mine are being shattered.
I hope your soul is at peace
while mine is torn and battered.

I hope you're wondering
what it's like to meet death-
and I'd tell you if I had the chance
but I now take my last breath.

I hope you have the chance to know
what it's like to say goodbye
to someone that you've loved for so long.
Goodbye, boy, I hope you cry.

Nursing Home

Old, empty eyes
stare painfully at nothing.
Lost souls
wandering the halls of their cold "home".
Tiny rooms are their prison cells
until they pass on.
Some stay in the rooms
because they can't move their
old, fragile limbs.
Some call for help.

In the halls, some ask for directions.
Some try to escape
while other just sit
in their own painful worlds
remembering the old days
and wishing they weren't condemned
to where they are.

The stench of death in the air
drowns you and takes over your body.
Noises of hurt and confusion
fill your ears until you think
they might bleed.

So many wishes,
so many emotions,
so much abandonment,
so much pain,
so much death.

Wrinkled, frowning, sometimes swollen
faces stare at me
with the hope that I can help them.
But I can't
and it hurts.
It hurts not only because of my own pain,
but because I feel theirs also.
The pain of lost loves,
regrets, and apologies.
The confused frowns,
the unheard cries.
The tortured souls showing in their eyes.

Please Wake Me

I would love to write a poem,
a prose, a story, a verse...
about this nightmare I can't awake from,
about all the things that hurt.

I think I fell asleep a few years ago
and since then have gone through hell.
Someone wake me from this nightmare!
Someone tell me it's not real!

When I wake up my life will be back,
my youth, my family, everything I had.
I'll realize it was all just all a bad dream,
I'll wake up and see my dad.

He'll be smiling at me sober,
sitting beside me holding my hand.
He'll wipe my brow and say "good morning sissy"
you were in a far away land.

You tossed and turned during most of your sleep
and cried a lot of tears.
But daddy's here, it's okay baby-
there's nothing left to fear."

When I wake up I'll be in my room,
I'm still young, still just sixteen.
The only cares I have in this world
are trying to follow my dreams.

When I wake up mom will be cooking,
granny will be in the living room.
Dad will have finished working on the car
and Bobbie will be coming over soon.

I'll wake up and get ready for work
at the fast food place in the mall.
I'll go to work, then come home where it's warm,
give my boyfriend a call.

I'll go to bed again only to wake up
to have coffee in the morning with dad.
I'll make breakfast for granny (she loves turkey bacon)
and I'll no longer be sad.

But the problem is, I am awake.
I'm damn near 30 years old.
Granny's long gone, dad's voice no more-
all the coffee has long since turned cold.

Tears are still falling, yet I'm not asleep.
This is a nightmare from which I'll never wake.
Please dear Lord, give me strength to get through this
it's all the pain I can take.

My Angel Baby

To my son I'll never hold,
who's eyes I'll never see.
The baby who never got to feel
the loving touch from me.
I'll never know if you had dimples,
never get to see you grin.
I'll never get to hear your laugh,
never see if you had a dimple on your chin.
I'll never get to hear you say mama,
never know if daddy would be your first word.
All I know is that there is now a void,
nothing can ever heal this hurt.
I'll never get to hold your tiny hand
as I teach you to cross a street.
Daddy will never get to teach you to ride a bike,
or how to climb a tree.
I'll never get to answer your silly questions,
or wipe your tears when you cry.
I'll never get to kiss your hurts away
or teach you to get the kite to fly.
We'll never have your first Christmas,
never dress you for your first Halloween.
Now I only have my 5 month of memories of you
filled with hopes and dreams.
For the 20 weeks you were in my womb
you found a place in my heart.
You had become a piece of my soul
and it has now been ripped apart.
I saw you but didn't even get to meet you,
didn't get to feel your tiny touch.
And yet I can't seem to stop these tears
because I already miss you so much.
Goodbye my little angel bear.
Aiden Blaine Rose - you will always be my first.
And no matter how many come along after you-
for you my heart will always hurt.
May God hold you in His hands
and protect you with His loving grace.
And I hope when I get there you'll remember me
so I can finally kiss your face.

Watch Over Me

I look up at the sky, the clouds, the moon,
and even wish upon a star.
Can you see me from Heaven?
Is that where you are?
Are you holding my baby boy?
Has he grown his angel wings?
Has he given you a smile,
the one I'll never see?
Have you taken him fishing
like you said you were going to do?
Does he look like me or Logan,
does he resemble you?
Are his eyes as black as coal
just like I wanted them to be?
Or are they blue just like his daddy's?
Does he have dimples in his cheeks?
Have you told him any stories yet?
Have you held his little hand?
Have you told him who his mommy is
and how his daddy is a great man?
Have you gotten to meet Jesus?
Does he hold my baby boy?
Does my angel baby giggle
while he plays with Heaven's toys?
Does he know that you're his Pa-paw
and that I was your little girl?
Do you know how I much I miss you both?
Does he know he was my world?
Does he know his mommy loves him?
Does he know his daddy does too?
Please give my angel kisses for me,
and know I love both of you.

A moment...

Two-dimensional, nothing is real-
Living from the opposite side of the mirror...
I watch and study and search myself
but nothing seems to get clearer.
Colors too dull, noises too loud-
everything has lost it's appeal...
I try to reach out, try to scream
wanting so badly to feel.
I hear myself laughing and wonder why-
because on the inside no laughter is felt...
I try to look on the positive side
and make the most of the hand I've been dealt.
But my soul has been lost in the looking glass-
and my real self is dazed, staring in.
Wondering if life will ever be "normal"
and if I'll ever be just ME again.

Memories

Memories. The mind is a wonderous place. It stores things from phone numbers to birthdays to anniversaries to quotes. It stores pictures, and songs, and poetry. It keeps recordings of voices and videos of our life- bit by bit. And it's so funny how they can make us laugh and make us cry- just within seconds but sometimes even at the same time.

I have been in my house for two years now... and wow- there's a lot of memories here! I'll be moving at the end of this month and saying goodbye to my cozy little rental home, but I'll be taking so many memories with me. I've had good and bad times since living here- but nothing I ever want to forget. I've gone through two serious breakups while living in this house, and quite a few tears. I've laughed loud and hard with friends- many that I've met or gotten closer to since living here. I've been so angry I could tear this house down with my bare hands and I've been so crushed that I just wanted this house to fall in on top of me.

It's funny to me how your mind can flash back and take you to a certain moment in the past just by looking around a room in silence. "He would be sitting there when I'd come in from work" or "that's where mom started crying when she walked in on her suprise 50th birthday party"... or "that's where we danced for no reason at all"... and even "that's where he was sitting when he ripped my heart to shreds". And it's funny how your mind can make you see the exact thing you're remembering, and hear the exact things you heard, even smell the things you were smelling at the moment that something happened.

This house will forever hold the last two years of my twenties, the flame of two loves that have burned down to ash, the heartache of a few hurt feelings, the bellows of laughter from great nights with best friends, and the music of a few slow dances frozen in my mind.

I'm going to miss my quaint little ranch house. I'm going to miss the things I'd hoped for while living here but realized weren't feasible. I'm going to miss having my roommate to bitch to and about, joke with, and even punch in the nose on occasion- even though he drives me insane and I'm anxious to be by myself again. I'm going to miss all the guys coming by before work to play the Xbox even though it's been a while since that's happened. I'm going to miss the privacy of a house- even though I hate mowing the yard that goes with that privacy.

I still don't know where I'm going when I leave this house- but I am looking forward to another new start. I know that with the people that are close to me and the new ones I will meet in the future, even more terrific memories are going to be made in my new place- wherever that may be. I'll be turning 30 in my new place so I'm hoping that with the new place comes a wiser Meesa. Well... a girl can hope, can't she?

"It's surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time."  ~Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams

"We do not remember days; we remember moments."  ~Cesare Pavese, The Burning Brand

"Things that were hard to bear are sweet to remember."  ~Seneca

"Memory is a child walking along a seashore.  You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things. " ~Pierce Harris, Atlanta Journal