Monday, May 11, 2015

you can name this one

you said you'll write about this.

it wasn't a question, rather a need. because when one gets tangled in between sheets and metaphors with a poet, it's demanded. you know how i write, how i sew together our memories like an incomplete eulogy. mislaying traces of last times, and first times, and one more times all throughout dusty notebooks and word documents and unpublished blog posts. notes to remind myself why i always came back and why one more chapter is inescapable, how you are inescapable. 

yet there are some times, some moments where the softest of tongues, the gentlest of fingertips could never find the right amount of truth for. you know the ones.  the moments i promise myself i will never expose for the sake of art, for the sake of healing, for the sake of feeling like i am doing something with all this intensity underneath my rib-cage. 

because this isn't escapism, this is my honesty. and you are the deep hit of marijuana that turns my mind from just a simple body part into a cathedral of wonder. you are landmines of potential and i am scared of the explosion. but all i can think about is your stardust eyes and i forget words when they stare back into mine. you speak in tailspin and i'm still falling. 

but i know you. you, the lone wolf. and i, the full moon. i shine when you need radiance. and though i don't always glow bright enough, sometimes you don't howl loud enough. but something tells me we were meant to find ourselves in this mess, in this heart break. we must be bleeding for a purpose not yet illuminated.

i will not write of those secrets we shared. but i will tell the story of us. just as in the way the bullfrogs murmur under a mid-summer night sky; slow and deep... and when the rest of the world goes to sleep. 

Friday, May 08, 2015

if only

your fingers are spread across state lines and your mouth so easily finds mine, i wonder how we never knew sooner. we are nothing and everything all at once and all i want to do is scream at the top of my lungs that you taste like my favorite day. our bodies tangle together like some kind of hidden memory and you look into my eyes as if they are their own galaxies. you say lets get lost, baby and suddenly we are speaking the language of the stars. can people even see us? are we real? or are we orbiting our own moon so fast we are nothing but a water colored blur? our love fills all the space and spills out with such ease. escaping through the pout of our lips, the tears in our eyes, the cracks in the sky, the small space between our fingers. 

but there's that piercing fear, nothing this good lasts forever and it's the overwhelming doubt it'll all disappear and soon we will just be another tragic love story, another goodbye, we've known it all along, so why is there always something that keeps us holding onto nothing?

i slip, and suddenly i am running away and you are too, running from the only world that holds any truth. but our love still finds a way to spill out. it's in the mouth of everyone i try to talk to, it's in the moon at midnight, the song on the radio, the first sip of coffee, it's at 3:30 in the morning and 11:11 at night, the tip of my pencil, the swirl of smoke, it's the smell of summer, and the color of sky when it looks like your eyes. and though it's been months, you still taste like my favorite day. if only i knew then what i know now. i would have stayed. 

Tuesday, May 05, 2015

where did you go?

and when i woke
i could think of nothing
but for his wild eyes 
casting shadows like
morning glow;
for his artful fingers
untangling secrets
just for him and i to know;
and for his words – his poetry
 that shackled me to him
drawing maps across my skin
sinking in... sinking in

Thursday, April 30, 2015

"... and as terrible as this is, i get it. we can't choose what we want and don't want and that's the hard lonely truth. sometimes we want what we want even if we know it's going to kill us. we can't escape who we are. and as much as i'd like to believe there's a truth beyond illusion, i've come to believe that there's no truth beyond illusion. because, between 'reality' on the one hand, and the point where the mind strikes reality, there's a middle zone, a rainbow edge where beauty comes into being, where two different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the space where all art exists, and all magic..."

Theo Decker 
Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

Monday, April 20, 2015


but, dear God
you cannot fathom
that for two entire years
not another name
 passed my lips 
when our minds were 
let out to play
 with one another

Thursday, April 02, 2015

the love of solitude

here i sit in solitude
 spring is deliciously budding
before my eyes as it passes me by
 the sun has come out,
spreading her pretty fingers
upon the pages of my book
resting within my lap
Chapter 5 – Solitude 
and yes, silly, of course i think of you 
your hands would be on me,
 somewhere; everywhere
if you were here...
but you are not 
i don't know where you are today,
or how you've been,
or anything
but the sun feels like an alarm 
and i miss you

Monday, March 23, 2015

it was all a dream

his car is like a raven winding up the dirt road. the headlights quiver with the bumps and i hold my breath, trying not to cry. i can taste the anticipation, like coffee and cigarettes. everything is on fire and the whole world is mad, spinning into a quiet oblivion. i suddenly realize how the grass feels underneath my bare-feet, how long has it been since i have stood barefoot? i am waiting, and falling, and standing back up and falling over and over again. 

you're here, i don't believe you're here.

but then i'm there, tangled within him again and the world is on fire. he hugs me as if he's afraid to let go. and i'm afraid of him letting go. it's been so many days, months, years? his hair is longer and his eyes are tired but still just as intoxicating. he picks me up like i'm fourteen, and i've never seen a sight so devastatingly beautiful. he has me drooling every cliche; i'm weak in the knees, and lets carve our names into that old oak tree, because our love is evergreen. 

he's here now and we are weaving our way through hushed streets at midnight, the music on high, the wind bustling through our hair and the world dancing by us on fire. but it's been so long, i don't know if we will ever find our way back, so i draw a map upon an old napkin, and he cracks a grin and makes a joke like he does – his right hand in between my bare thighs. i sigh.

and then we are on our backs upon the dewy grass and i connect his freckles like constellations and the stars are on fire in the burnt coffee sky. he looks to me, he whispers oh how i've missed those green eyes – they're mine, they're mine. as he swallows me whole. he finds a flower to tuck behind my ear, his fingers feel like poetry upon my pale moon skin, and it's as though i am a comet about to combust into stardust, and it's everything. he's everything. everything i missed. everything i yearned to find elsewhere. and everything i knew i couldn't.

life without you isn't much of a life. it feels like a parenthesis; time is unfocused, blurry. and i can't taste my favorite foods, i can't taste much of anything. i fell in love with you, but never out. 

and the cicadas play a song in the background, a tune that sounds like a lullaby, the world is on fire and he enfolds me within his arms as if he will never let me go. and i don't want him to ever let me go. 

Wednesday, March 11, 2015


it's three a.m. and i can hear
the spring rains pattering
outside of my window 
falling rapidly but softly
and it reminds me of how
i fell in love with you

Tuesday, March 03, 2015

i believe...

...that daffodils on my desk make me so happy.

...that for my whole life autumn has been my favorite season, but things change and now i know it's spring.

...that, in my humble opinion, Maxwell House coffee is infinitely more delicious than Folgers...

...that nothing really beats a handwritten letter.

...that it is so important to have a friend who knows everything and isn't afraid of it. 

...that there is almost always immeasurably more left inside of me than what comes out in words.

...that i can speak to countless people per day but all i really need is that one interaction that scratches below the surface.

...that there is something so special about friends who share a long, complicated history.

...and that in love and in life, you can't always predict what's going to happen next... and perhaps that's what makes it thrilling.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

a very long ranty kind of post...

it's Valentine's Day. i have the house all to myself, and i am cozied up on the couch with a cup of coffee, as i begin the tedious process of sifting through and figuring out what i want to save from my Facebook account. which is something i have been willing myself to do for quite some time now. because a little over a year ago i deactivated it for many reasons in which i will get to here shortly. but the thing i am not so proud of is that i have recently reactivated it in lieu of what i can only say is the perfect concoction of curiosity and sheer boredom. anyhow, as i scroll mindlessly through the feed i am suddenly overcome with the reminder of why i had deactivated it in the first place. and on Valentine's day nonetheless. snapshots of my feelings about love and the holiday for love that marketers have grown for this gloating society and seeing the obnoxious posts of roses and chocolates and the "look how lucky i am's."

and don't get me wrong i love perfectly planned weekend getaways, and romantic nights out, and family dinners just as much as the next girl but i am simply not interested in a life that avoids discomfort. there is no one i pity more than the one who fights tirelessly to portray perfection. 

it's now when i find myself checking that stupid newsfeeed and refreshing it and checking to see if anyone has "liked" that photo i just shared... this tiring need for validation is a scary thing and it was the reason i had decided to get rid of Facebook in the first place. as time keeps passing, the more clear it is becoming as to why i am so unsettled – it tremendously conflicts with who i truly am. 

i read this article and i think he say's it most eloquently....

"…Instead of connecting and interacting, people are overwhelmingly broadcasting their own praises.

{We should be} human online. Yet social media is a place where users present their ideal self, not their whole human self. That trip to Iceland? Shared. Stepping in dog poop with your new shoes? Nope. As everyone begins to mirror the PR arm of a Fortune 500 company, spinning out press releases of good news and glossing over the bad, we lose authenticity.” Matt McFarland

yes. yes. yes.

and hey, i am not saying that nobody should support Valentine's day because it was only my personal decision that i never really did. and i'm not saying that nobody should be on Facebook either, but rather, i think that we as a society need to really look deep within and question ourselves as to why are we sharing. what are we truly looking for, and can we just be content with the roses/chocolates/diamond ring/new car if we didn't share it on social media? if we wouldn't feel fulfilled, then something is seriously wrong. 

i also can't help but think of my someday children. in a world where raising wholesome kids is becoming increasingly difficult, i don't want to be that mother posting every little thing, the one updating all 400 hundred of her closest friends how wonderful her life is going. i don't ever want to feel the need to validate my love for my children with a post. fuck no. i want to write it in a card, hold them by their little shoulders and tell them myself with my voice and my eyes. because those are the kinds of things that are meant for them only. that is the kind of role model i want to be. i want them to know that perfection is not real. i want them to be able to embrace the messy parts of life, to find beauty in chaos, to love the downs in life as much as the ups, and never pretend they aren't so, because those are what shape us. 

i want to get back to that place where i am comforted by my humility, my humbleness, the wonderful feeling of something incredible happening and not running to my iphone to post about it for the world to see. the most amazing lives are the ones that are lived quietly, i do believe. i talk to those who matter to me the most through forms of e-mail, hand-written letters, on the phone, face-to-face. i journal or blog about my life and take millions of photos for my kids and grand kids to someday pull out of warped shoe boxes and laugh or find insight from.

someone once told me that those who feel the need to gloat are the ones who hold the most insecurities. the wise, confident soul smiles silently in the corner of the room. they don't need to be heard or validated. what they have is real, and they know it. 

so, in summary (haha) today is just another day in my life. i celebrate love in little ways every day, quietly and happily within the privacy of my own home. because i am a human being fighting to uphold her standards of humility and all i want is to be authentic and soulful and to pass those attributes along to my children. and even if i do receive a dozen roses (although i won't, thankfully) very few people will know about it. and i wouldn't want it any other way. as for Facebook... i think it's goodbye, for good this time. 

if you made it to the end of this very long ranty kind of post, thank you for reading my words. you rock. 

Thursday, February 12, 2015

she asked :
"you still love him, huh?"
i answered :
"i can't imagine the day i won't."

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

because our timing will never harmonize

and no matter how our story ends
having ever known you, my love
is enough to spend my eternity 
empowered by your existence 

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

but i still dream of you

i stretched 
i breathed
i took a shower
i washed away the day
i drank a glass of water
i made my room dark
i lied down
i closed my eyes
i felt the silence
i noticed my heart beat

i made it, after all
i made it, another day
and i can make it one more

Thursday, January 08, 2015

a nightmare dressed like a daydream

i craved him because he tasted like freedom and free falling
he smelt like an unharnessed roller coaster ride and danger
i thirsted for him because he was sweet uncertainty;
 he was violent waves of adrenaline
and all the things i couldn't seem to be on my own

Friday, January 02, 2015

little things i hope to garner more of this year...

... to be more present
make more love
drink more tea
avoid small talk
embrace conversation
buy more plants
and water them
be silly
be grateful 
make my bed
stand up for myself 
speak my mind 
read, read, read
take more baths
talk to my brother more
have a smart mouth
and quick wit
make art
attend more poetry readings
laugh more
write every damn day 
ask more questions
make mistakes
take more walks
and more photos 
but really take in my surroundings 
know my own worth
honor and respect my beautiful body
love with ferocity
forgive quickly 
stop being so stubborn
let go of things and people who no longer make me happy

Monday, December 29, 2014


i feel like i am stuck lately. 

and as i look back on this past year i come to see, with all that has occurred, i haven't really allowed myself to flourish with the changes. it seems to me i am stubborn in swimming against my own tide. God only knows why because, allow me to tell you, it is quite exhausting. 

i have picked up some pretty lamentable habits that i am surely not proud of. which if i really step back and think about, isn't all that surprising as i am inconsistent as fuck. i haven't treated my body with an ounce of respect. i don't really take care of myself. it seems as though i have just perhaps the tiniest grip left before i slip completely. and i don't know if it is because here we are approaching a new year that has me looking backward, or if it is mere coincidence that i am noticing all of this. i suppose it doesn't matter the reason only that i am in fact aware of it. 

i keep saying "tomorrow..." or "next week" or "monday" i'll do better... i'll eat better...i'll honor my body... i'll let go of you...i'll stop talking... i'll stop letting people walk on me or call me impolite names... i'll hand it all back... i'll begin again. yet, what's stopping me? why am i continually delaying the inevitable? and i feel like i have written about all these emotions in the past, so it discourages me that i am still no where closer to understanding these things about myself than i was last year... fuck, two years ago. 

i've been thinking about him a lot, as usual. but lately a little more in depth, i suppose the holidays will do that to a person. it's just that i kinda feel as though i only allow myself to BE myself about 43% of the time. i play facade, i smile my plum-lipstick-smile and toss short yet witty remarks into typical conversation as i swallow my real words along with granulated happiness to trick myself into thinking everything is okay. all the while i am screaming inside. if i were to wipe off that hint of a grin and present myself as the true cynic i happen to be, people would flee. it's unfortunately just life. no? who wants to hear about how no matter the color of sky on Christmas Day, it's the color of coal to me? essentially it's just another day in a year without him but it still breaks my heart he's not here. and who wants to hear that i resent the fact that you pray for something completely nonsensical while my brother is dead? no one, that's who. so, i just keep it inside where it belongs and smile and people think they know me. 

alternately, people seem to dance into my life with seeming ease and then leave just as elegantly. yet here i am scrounging to pick myself up and put it all back together. oftentimes i wonder why my life has always felt like a gruesome battle, a complex  puzzle... for i feel as though i am continually at war with myself, perpetually trying to fit all the wrong pieces together.... and scratching my way through the rose garden day and i promise you, with where i'm at and what i have, i do the best i can.

the point is... i have decided that enough is enough. i think i am done with the wallowing, moping, feeling sorry for myself... how long can this go on? now, i need to actually put some effort into myself. nothing will change if i change nothing. ha. at this point in my life, i don't necessarily believe in new year's resolutions but i feel it is a good excuse to kick start myself into gear. why the hell not, right? 

anyhow. i hope you all had a lovely holiday :) 

Friday, December 19, 2014

starring inevitability

"look," she says "there..." her voice cascades up an octave like a whispering melody. 

i follow the direction of her skinny arm to the cluster of 3 stars. 

Orion's Belt... as if it is her first time seeing it; the magic never fades for her. there's a slight grin painted on her face and it is a beautiful sight to behold. trust me.  

her eyes are buoyed to the sky and i watch her in sheer wonderment. 

"did you know..." she tapers off and takes a pull on her cigarette. (i love when she begins a thought with "did you know") 

"that Orion borders the Gemini constellation to the northeast?" 

she knows i am a Gemini, not that it matters. neither of us are into Astrology... it's just that she knows. i envision her reading about Orion's Belt and as her green eyes skim across that piece of information, they light up like electricity... she keeps it in her pocket and takes it out at precisely the right moment; while we are standing under a blanket of sky, her and i. 

why did she pick me to love like this?

we stand quiet, for dramatically stretched out moments, each lost in our own galaxies. the sky the color of burnt coffee. the peculiar December air kissing our exposed skin. i think of how she is the only human whom i could sit with in silence, for hours, yet feel as though i've just had the most incredible conversation.

she reaches for my hand just then, as if she can read my thoughts. 

she's good. 

it's milky smooth and friendly. i want to take charge of her body and encapsulate her with mine, but i hesitate... i can sense she is somewhere deep. so i resort to tangling my fingers within hers... 

so she knows i'm here. 

because, for her, that's enough. 

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

useless information

4 names people like to call you other than your real name:
1. Kay

2. Kayla Kadinglehoffer
3. Kale
4. Al

4 jobs you've had:
1. Hostess/Waitress
2. Nanny
3. Bank Teller
4. Daddy's girl 

4 movies you've seen more than once:
1. Into the Wild 
2. Pineapple Express
3. Dazed and Confused
4. You've Got Mail 

4 places you've lived:
1. Winchester

2. Woburn
3. Hampstead
4. Derry

4 places you've visited:
1. Dominican Republic
2. Puerto Rico
3. St. Maarten
4. St. Thomas

4 places you'd rather be right now: 
1. my bed

2. my couch
3. my downstairs couch
4. chicago

4 things you don't eat:
i will pretty much eat or at least try everything

the only exception being : ketchup. fuck ketchup.

4 of your favorite foods:
1. Pizza
2. Shrimp Scampi
3. Cereal, in general
4. Cheese, in general.

4 TV shows you watch:
1. Gilmore Girls 
2. Alaska the Last Frontier
3. Friends
4. Pretty Little Liars

4 things you're always saying:
1. "Fuck"
2. "ya know?"
3. "I feel like..."
4. "coffee time"

borrowed from this cool chick, alissa

Thursday, December 11, 2014


"Whiskey." she said, and it wasn't a fucking request.

"What'll it be?" the barkeep inquired, "Something off the shelf or from the well?" 

"Does it look like I give a goddamn?" she spat back at him.

Fumbling from pocket to pocket, she found a nearly empty pack of smokes and a matchbook now on its last legs. She knew better than to ask for permission, or an ashtray for that matter, it wasn't that kind of dive. 

To her surprise, her drink was delivered and the bartender didn't bat so much as an eyelash. Maybe  her face said everything he needed to know.

She ashed on the floor and took her first, of what was sure to be many shots that night. The whiskey bit and burned its way down her stomach. 

"Fuck..." she whispered under her breath. "You." her mind finished the sentence and she drained the glass.

Bartender boy was already pouring another, it was that kind of bar, it was that kind of night, and the whiskey was the only salve for this kind of wound. 


Wednesday, December 10, 2014

ghost girl

oftentimes i feel like the ghost of myself, haunting old places that used to hold meaning they no longer hold. i've been in the same place for so long now that the different eras of my life –different selves, are layered in a fine mist that builds up into a fog upon this town and glimpses of the past show through the cracks between the trees and houses like bits of old, peeling wallpaper; like falling autumn leaves. it's comfortable yet equally as oppressive. 

a car drives by at midnight, as i lie awake in bed and i wonder... where are they going? where have they been? 

white walls
white lights
white stars

and when i finally succumb to sleep, i have this reoccurring dream of a stranger with a familiar face. and the way he touches me is as if i am made of more than just skin. he tells me that the beautiful is always bizarre. and he is the only person i have ever encountered who seems to have the faintest idea of what i mean when i say a thing. 

and i wonder...

i feel so young but at the same time, unspeakably aged. when i am silent, i have a monstrous thunder hidden inside of me. i dream, i dream so vividly yet when i wake, everything is black.  i have to urge myself to notice when i am happy because i too often get caught in that sepia-colored gloom. i am paradoxically challenged. 

i remember the day i first realized i don't know who i am. it was spring, and the rain came down in sheets with a relentless fury. i guess some may call it an epiphany, i suppose it was something like that. because, it's a strange phenomena to suddenly become aware that you just have no idea who you are. this person you have been living with for the last 25 years is a fucking complete stranger. 

and i wonder...

because, it's been 609 days... and i don't know if i am any better off than i was on that gloomy day back in may? i am stuck in this philosophy where i know there is no God damn way of turning back – i know too much, reverting is not an option. but i have forgotten how to walk. my legs are made of clouds and i can't figure out how to progress... 

i am but a ghost in my own life.