a black and brown scarf

my ovary was aching today

a familiar emergency room pain

but i ignored it and smiled cheerily to my classmates: a sea of white labcoats

in the yellow vintage lighting of our department

the walls rife with displays on semi creative posterboard

it smells of paul mitchell, perms, recovery and stale hope

we are on the cusp of what we were meant ( or not) to do with our lives

standing in my 16 hr insoles I can feel the linoleum floor, each tiny hair sticking to my soles, my soul,

i am breathing in the dust from the ventilation system, and it feels like home.

Perseides

Above my green lawn chair the sky is an indigo gauze

its more and more apparent depth cloying, suffocating

I read that it would take my eyes exactly fifteen minutes to adjust so I drink cheap wine and wait

listening to Duran Duran and The Church

clutching the hems of my sleeves for warmth in the northern california summer

my left pocket full of semi sweet chocolate chips

and there is a nagging feeling that someone is about to sneak up on me and cut my throat

as I lean back and expose it to the night

a tiny hard crabapple plunks off the tree and simultaneously the sky awakens

each trail of light is like one of those cheesy eighties slow exposure photographs of traffic racing neon lines

I gasp with each one and remark to the nothingness "wow" or "o look"

like watching a comedy alone but still glancing to see if the nonexistent people around you are laughing too

the neighbors sprinklers snap me out of my trance and I head inside thinking of water waste

when I was a child I dreamt of being an astronaut

aflutter

my future is finally starting to come together.

i woke up this morning, excited about my new dustbuster (whathasbecomeofmylife?)

aside from housewifey home appliances i am over the moon about the prospect of school! me! in school!

i register tuesday and i am a spastic weasel so ready to begin and soak up all the information.

i have been observing people's hair my whole life and have loved the feel of it between my fingers

i cant wait to get my hands on some heads! and dirty toenails... and mustaches...

raindecision

I am aching to do something other than what I am doing tonight. I don't want to drive anywhere or have to get home at a certain hour. Every time I have gone anywhere since I became a parent I have spent the first half of my time out thinking about the baby and the second half wondering if it was a bad thing that I wasn't thinking about the baby. I'll probably end up putting make up on and sitting around scheming and then get too tired and lazy to actually motivate. c'est la vie.

tall glass of dysfunction

our relationship is forming bumps under my skin,

flaking from my scalp

churning in my colon

aching in my jaw

floating in and out of my field of vision

i may not survive being your child

to come out the other side of this unscathed would be a feat of rebirth

i am cramped and crawling mad as hell through this cramped space

blindly trusting that my air supply wont be cut off by your overbearing pressure

you may not survive being my mother

damp with perspiration and gasping for breath

slurring to be understood through a medicated fog

regret leaves you hemorrhaging

journey and urinal cake

seems its been so long since we drank to the sunset until it was dawn..
musty rafters whispering of your sunkissed youth drop flecks of underwear lint onto our pretty little heads. and we are 21 again, arm in arm shouting to the stars, our tongues alkaline in the summer air. we are holding each other, unabashedly awkward on your freshly laundered quilt
wracked with hangover reading "jackie o!" aloud and cursing our inevitable impending shift..