how things always get worse
(to the point of unreality)
before they get good.
and then they get really really good.
about you, on the other side of this bright screen
on the other side of my world,
looking for a part of me to grab
examine,
measure,
keep/trash.
that I am someone's daughter.
that I was born with a heart
and should have been working all along
on getting it to run like one.
that I can't expect different:
outcomes
if I don't change:
intakes.
that true happiness disregards luck.
how all along I waited for purpose
when the key to fulfillment is
filling.
nothing is permanent.
and playing make believe with forever
is no way to live
today.
(to the point of unreality)
before they get good.
and then they get really really good.
about you, on the other side of this bright screen
on the other side of my world,
looking for a part of me to grab
examine,
measure,
keep/trash.
that I am someone's daughter.
that I was born with a heart
and should have been working all along
on getting it to run like one.
that I can't expect different:
outcomes
if I don't change:
intakes.
that true happiness disregards luck.
how all along I waited for purpose
when the key to fulfillment is
filling.
nothing is permanent.
and playing make believe with forever
is no way to live
today.
My favorite version, of my favorite hymn, on my favorite night of my favorite week.
I am still a waitress.
I am still proud to be one.
Come Monday,
(not a moment too soon)
I become an actual adult,
with an early to rise job
and a late to arrive paycheck.
I am celebrating. Again. And again.
I continue to assume
reciprocal stalking
to the way I keep up.
Despite my skill of running away,
I am still in Chattanooga.
I am still single.
I am still single in Chattanooga.
Yes, I have lost weight.
No, I didn't go on some crazy diet
or much less,
get any kind of surgery.
I didn't just dye my hair red,
unless yesterday was New Year's eve.
I want to be vegan
(as soon as Greek yogurt releases its hold one me).
I practice effective comebacks.
I squander appropriate situations.
I am still (half-heartedly) scrubbing off
last weekend's color fun,
and looking for another excuse
to run
(before I notice I no longer have one).
I live in a chalet.
I consult Pinterest.
I am so Zombie-ready it's sad.
I don't want children.
I want nieces/nephews/Youngs.
I am strong in the arms,
but weak in the knees
to silly things like candy words and promises.
I am getting old. Fast.
I am reckless with who I let into my life
and even more so with who I let stay.
I am not afraid of anything
except maybe that I've wasted all my good stuff,
trust, patience, hugs,
on the undeserving,
with very little reserve for the
Godsends.
I have yet to pass a test
on the back-breaking lessons I've "learned"
and with each passing day
worry
that when it most counts
I am reduced to
mush.
so i listen to this again. and again.
that i had to leave you in SC
that i didn't know i'm a crazy cat lady
that Nala is such a jerk
that by the time you're here you will have forgotten me.
It's like falling in love with a mobster.
(looks so good/never ends well)
Me: Mom. If I had studied heating and air conditioning, I'd never be unemployed.
Mom: The day you open a hat factory, children will be born without heads.
Mom: The day you open a hat factory, children will be born without heads.
Stupid Boys at the Gym,
my $3 Walgreens headphones are not the soundproof Beats you are imagining, and if everything you are saying about my body is true, i must be in the perfect place to change it.
Impatient Restaurant Customers,
my 2 arms, crocs, and penguin legs can only carry so many things so fast, and if the standard you have set for simultaneous: speed of service/attitude/lack of respect/lousy tips is realistic, i must be asking for too much.
Murphy Express Gas Station on Lee Highway,
my trusty steed, Donny J, favors your gas prices over any other, and even if every other gas station in Chattanooga knew you were practically giving it away, i'd remain loyal to you.
iPhone Users that are my Facebook Friends,
my iMessage is not one to lie, and if you are too busy to text back but not too busy to update your status, i must have too much time on my hands.
77 Year Old Cashier at Wal-Mart,
i don't mind how long it takes to get rung up or how many times you have asked me to donate to the children's miracle network because hearing the same compliment about my eyes everytime you see makes it worth it.
Every Girl that Works at SunTan City,
my membership is the cheapest monthly option. my name is pronounced Mary-Ella. my skin tans just fine on its own. nothing has changed since 3 months ago, and if i still don't look like i was cut from the same leather as you, i must be doing something right.
Anyone that has Ever Trained for a Run,
my calendar tells me i'm only 2 weeks in, and if enjoying any moment of my 2-a-days is normal, i must have signed up for the wrong kind of K.
Sincerely,
Mari
my $3 Walgreens headphones are not the soundproof Beats you are imagining, and if everything you are saying about my body is true, i must be in the perfect place to change it.
Impatient Restaurant Customers,
my 2 arms, crocs, and penguin legs can only carry so many things so fast, and if the standard you have set for simultaneous: speed of service/attitude/lack of respect/lousy tips is realistic, i must be asking for too much.
Murphy Express Gas Station on Lee Highway,
my trusty steed, Donny J, favors your gas prices over any other, and even if every other gas station in Chattanooga knew you were practically giving it away, i'd remain loyal to you.
iPhone Users that are my Facebook Friends,
my iMessage is not one to lie, and if you are too busy to text back but not too busy to update your status, i must have too much time on my hands.
77 Year Old Cashier at Wal-Mart,
i don't mind how long it takes to get rung up or how many times you have asked me to donate to the children's miracle network because hearing the same compliment about my eyes everytime you see makes it worth it.
Every Girl that Works at SunTan City,
my membership is the cheapest monthly option. my name is pronounced Mary-Ella. my skin tans just fine on its own. nothing has changed since 3 months ago, and if i still don't look like i was cut from the same leather as you, i must be doing something right.
Anyone that has Ever Trained for a Run,
my calendar tells me i'm only 2 weeks in, and if enjoying any moment of my 2-a-days is normal, i must have signed up for the wrong kind of K.
Sincerely,
Mari
