To Find Myself

I drive down the road
Into the woods
To find myself
Amongst the leafless trees
And cold winter breeze

I listen to old songs
Flashbacks to my childhood
Always pop in my head

Road trips to San Diego
Sitting in the backseat
While my dad blasts
Bob Dylan on repeat

Listening to a favorite
Song on my iPod
In the living room
My grandmother sitting on
The couch with a book
I whisper the bad words
Under my breath
Like I’m committing a sin
Singing along

These moments are etched 
In my memories
Until the end of time
Every time I hear the lyrics
They take me back
I smile

Unseen Cracks

The winter cold comes in 
through the unseen cracks in the wall. 
I bundle up in sweaters 
and blankets, keep the blinds down,
and listen to the wind 
wailing away all afternoon.
These cold days happen 
unexpectedly, I learn to live
around what I cannot control.
The more I am here, the less 
shocked I become
waking up to a ten degree 
temperature drop.
The heat is on 
but it doesn’t flow 
when the wind blows 
in certain directions.
Part of being
in an old building
by the sea, 
I suppose.

The Candle

The light flickers and reflects
in the soft brown wood as rain 
sprinkles down outside.

Disappointment is
another word for regret.

I look up and down, 
side to side
trying to focus on
this book I’m currently reading.

Spurts of focus is the best
way to describe my lack of concentration.

I have it,
it’s just not as long as I like it.

Water slides down the glass door
like a secret I will never know.

I read the same passage twice,
focusing on the words written
because of the mention of someone
who lights my path.

The candle flickers as the sky
lightens.
Rain continues to 
fall.

Space For Me

My stuff is scattered around this house.
It looks out of place, like I’m trying to live
in a space not molded around me.
I have too many clothes to fit
into three small drawers.
The tea I drink sits on the counter
in a mixed-matched pile I haven’t organized.
Coffee cups are upright on another counter
because I have forgotten which cabinet
I found them in when I got here.
A random pile of things sit on a bench
by the dining table, haven’t moved since
I brought them here, my temporary place
with no space for me. I’m a person who places
things in spots, living on top of someone else's home,
never trying to make it feel like my own.

Written in the summer of 2021.

First Hour

The first hour of my day is quiet.
I take my medication and wait.
Sometimes I fall back asleep.
Sometimes I’m left with my own thoughts.
I reflect on what I dreamed, 
how well I slept,
what I want to write.
I’ve learned to leave my phone
on my nightstand.
I notice the light in my room,
how my muscles feel.
I move from one position
to another then back again,
my stomach filled with water makes weird noises.
The blankets piled on top of each other
keep me warm.
The cold winter air does not wreck
my peace of mind.

First Snow

Snow falls over the coast as
it moves along the ocean at a
glacial pace.
I stay inside all day under piles of
old blankets, trying to stay warm.
A new place with different snow,
two months later than usual
thanks to the warmer climate.
I appreciated the extended time
not worrying about the snow.
Many stores are closed, first storm
like this in the years, I learn from
the locals.
Good to know almost a foot of
snow isn’t normal, making up for
what we missed in the fall.

Bigger Picture

The best years begin on a Monday.
There’s something about
the possibilities of
the ways we move 
through time
leave me breathless.
How these moments pass
before we realize how precious
they were when we were in them. 
We were too busy
focused on meaningless 
details to appreciate
the bigger picture.

Christmas Endings

It's been a year of change, challenges, and triumphs.
Little things build over time to lead to new, scary,
and beautiful lives. 
I write these words at the end of the day, the last post
Of this year, feeling more grateful than I have
Ever felt.
Knowing how I got here has been a big part of these
Last few months, reflecting on my journey,
Learning to let go of old habits,
Loving myself through it all.
Take this last week of the year to find
Pockets of growth I can nurture and
Flourish into the next year.

I hope you do the same.
Cheers to the new year.
It's going to be good.

I Think I Like This Little Life

Saturday morning
a blank slate of a day
I closed my door
music in my ears
happy to explore
with no errands to run
or people to see
I felt the freedom of
no expectations on me
just a human, just a woman
admiring the beauty surrounding me
salt air in my lungs, sun in my eyes
as I write this poem in my notebook
sitting on a bench on the coast
it doesn’t feel like December
with this slight chill, soft breeze
for that I’m grateful
counting my many blessings
as this year comes to a close.

note – the title of this poem is a lyric in the song “Little Life” by Cordelia.

blue-colored night

the welcoming of winter
begins with a firework show
we watch from a balcony 
and marvel at the light
shooting across the sky
the sound hits us
rippling inland through
the blue-colored night
being eye level with
the spectacle is an incredible
sight the glittery ones feel
closer like I could reach
out my fingers and grab
a little magic lit from below
the green and red lines
bring joy to my soul
I jump at the smaller
mighty ones that cause
a friction in my chest
I brace for impact 
the way I once
did as a kid expect 
now I don’t cover my ears
the tiny reminders of 
growing out of childhood fears