moving on

i can’t remember
how many times i’ve
packed
up my life
how many times i’ve
moved
in my life
i do know that this
will be the ninth time
i’ve packed up & moved
with kids
will this be the last time?
my forever home at last?
somehow
i have trouble
imagining
sitting still
& putting down
roots
no matter how many times
i tell myself
it is
the thing
to do.

my record for times moving (in both a calendar year & a 12 month period) is six times. that was in the nineties.
i spent the first almost eighteen years of my life in one house. i moved out the week i graduated high school. my first move!
i can tell you the states: illinois to iowa to illinois to virginia to kentucky to texas to kentucky to illinois to kentucky to texas to kentucky to illinois to kentucky to colorado to kentucky to texas to georgia to kentucky to wisconsin to illinois to wisconsin.
i think i got that right? maybe not. that’s from 1988 to present. that does not include moves within a state. the aforementioned six moves in a year was in normal, illinois. i can’t even remember all the places i lived there. but, all my stuff fit in my car so moving was not an ordeal like it is today where i have to spend weeks packing & then rent the biggest truck available.
yikes!
anyone want to help me with this last (???) move?

outside the box

i feel
stuck
in the ground
rooted
a tree that longs to run
a dandelion
watching her fluff
on the wind
so badly wanting
to be fluff
on the wind
i want to squat
in a church
or an abandoned warehouse
some place where i can ride my bike
from room
to room
or steal a paddle boat
and learn the river ways
i want to dig my own
hobbit house
go to bed
under the stars
because i haven’t built a roof
yet
i want to teach my kids
show this world
how to live
literally live
outside
the
box.

INKtober thirtieth

i can feel my brain
clawing
desperately
looking for a way
out
a rat
scrambling to escape
a watery grave
or an all encompassing
flame
smelling her own
singed fur
choking on the smoke
realizing
her fate
a wolf
gnawing off her own
paw
to be free
of the trap
where do i think
i will go
who do i think
i will be
if i escape
myself?

so.
been feeling a bit angsty these past few days. i have not yet gnawed off my own arm, but it has been a close call a few times.
i have hated almost everyone i can name who is in direct contact with my life.
so much hate. so much anger. i just want to disappear sometimes. get a mind wipe & start over somewhere i have never been.
innocent & free.
sigh.
but now it is the witch’s new year. day of the dead. a waning moon. and new possibilities on the horizon.
fine.
let’s see what tomorrow brings.

fun fact: one of my eyebrows is higher than the other & one of my ears is lower than the other, so i cannot wear a pair of glasses without the glasses appearing to be crooked.

fight or flight

cancer
my sun sign
is a cautious one
a suspicious one
keeping her shell close at hand
just in case.
strangely though
i will run head long
into a disastrous relationship…
while carefully skirting
my chances for
a healthy one
what the what
& why?
does that even make sense?
i run from the chance to be
happy.
why do i do that?
hmmmm
nevermind why
i guess
just know that today
i am choosing to stand
& fight.

these epiphanies are brought to you courtesy of a facebook messenger conversation with a boy i met on an online dating site.
i don’t know if he is good news or bad. i guess that remains to be discovered. what i do know is that as soon as i realized he was in fact interested in me (after three weeks of messaging,) i freaked the fuck out.

page9

who knows why.

but i can tell you, the same thing happened when i was a teenager and a cute, sweet boy i had a crush on showed me interest. and again when i was in my twenties, when a sane & sweet one was in love with me.

but what about all those assholes i threw myself at without a second thought?

good question.

i have no idea what is wrong with me.
and i am done analyzing myself.
now it is just time to re-write the script.
as i said yesterday, it is time to heal.

page10

so i am going on a date, y’all.
after some really awkward and sad flirting (i am NOT good at flirting even on my best day) i am going on a date.
tonight.

so, assuming he is not a serial killer, i am no longer running away.

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