Love Is…

Love is a loud room,
people cheering
over some
stupid game
and you look over
at your person
and everything else
fades away. 
Love is a safe place,
a space where
you don't hide like
you do the
rest of the time. 
Love is
a feeling like no other, 
it's why love
songs are so popular 
and every writer
tries to describe 
their perspective on
the matter. 
Love is 
searching, losing,
finding, keeping.
Love isn't just romance,
love is family, 
love is friends,
love is pets,
love are the ones who we
put up with because
we know at
the end of the day 
we're better be-
cause of them 
than without them.
Love is many 
reasonable reasonings
and crazy thinkings
we cannot explain
with a twist of fate 
that led us
to buy into a holiday 
we used to hate.
True love seems rare, 
but it's there
if you know 
your own worth and
who you choose, 
who you would
rather not lose. 
Needless to say,
love isn't a day, 
filled with candy and 
hearts and flowers, 
it's a feeling you 
feel, the person, 
the people you come back to,
the ones you love, 
each person has their own
definition for how
it changes their space, 
their time, and place. 
Love is a poem too long.
Love is listening to your heart, 
feeling your hand in theirs,
the ones you hug before
your sleep. Love is a quiet night,
feeling how small you are on
earth when looking out at
the stars, at the
overwhelming universe
feeling your love is
a cliche of overused
lines no one has
been able to
fully describe
how you feel.
But it is
real.

Self-Doubt

Writing is as natural
to me as breathing.
It's how I make sense
of my thoughts and reality.
I place my thoughts on lines
in my journal, it's where
they're safe. I write
with messy handwriting,
though I'd say it's become
more legible over the years.
I am a writer, I am a poet
but somewhere along the way
I lost the creativity that
once drove me. I catch sparks
of it now and then, jotting down
a creative line in my notes,
but the flame has remained
dim for a few years now.
Am I a writer if I don't write?
Am I a writer if I have nothing
to say? These are the questions
that live in my brain, destroy
my thoughts to keep my creativity
at bay. The doubt keeps me stagnant
and quiet. The flame that burnt out
years ago, where did it go? I miss it,
I try to relight it but without a
match, I leave it alone.

First Month Almost Finished

Two days left of 
the first month
of this new year.
Third year of the 20s, 
ninth year of my 20s.
Seems like too many years 
since the pandemic started
and at least ten extra years 
on to the last decade of my life.
It’s been a very cold and gloomy
start to the year. I’ve heard more 
remarks about cold days than warm ones.
Unusual where I live, we normally see
more fluctuation in temperature this month
Cold and snow, we still have snow from last year
Sheets of ice on the dead grass unable to melt
The sun is out for too little time before 
more snow falls on top of it once more.
Maybe we’ll see blue sky for more 
than a day, Maybe next month 
the iced over snow from 
last year will get 
to melt away.

Self-Talk

The way we talk to ourselves
reflects how we view ourselves.
We often do it without thinking,
the little comments that 
fall out of our mouths 
whispered under our breath
are quickly forgotten 
as we move from one 
moment to the next
swept up by the
busyness of the day.
Only when we become
aware of the words
we speak and the tone
we use can we begin
to change.

I am strong.
I am powerful.
I am unique.
I am brave.

Weird Balance

Another year, another booster,
Another reminder to stay healthy.
Three years into this pandemic,
And things are forever changed.
People continue to wear masks
Below their noses and coughing,
Annoys me to no end.
I don’t say anything, but internally
I am judging. I don’t care
If you don’t wear a mask,
I don’t usually wear a mask.
But if you wear one
Because you’re sick,
All I ask if that you wear
It over your nose too.
It’s a weird balance between
Returning to what we always knew
Until someone we know gets it.
And then it’s going through
The motions hoping
No one else will catch it.

Don’t Give Up

Yesterday, I published an essay on Medium about the creative process of making my short film, Torn-Between. It’s been 5 years since I published it on YouTube. What a crazy 5 years it’s been. It’s surreal to look back on now. In a way, I am amazed I was able to make it. Honestly, there are times I forget I made a short film. Because it seems like such a long time ago and so much has happened since then. But little things pop up that remind me of it. Like a few months ago, someone who I am casually friends with on Facebook came up to me and said how much they liked it. Totally random and unexpected.

I never thought I would make a short film. I dreamed of making it for over a year before I shot it. But there were moments during the editing process where I didn’t think the film would be seen by anyone. A lot of work goes into editing anything and I was busy with school and work at the time. I had shot it in Maine in the summer then sort of forgot about it when I went back to class in the fall. It wasn’t until early December that I realized I needed to finish it over winter break or I would never finish it.

The usual doubts of worry and fear came dribbling in as I began editing the film. What if people won’t like it? What if no one sees it? What if my message isn’t clear? What if the odd style of the film turns people away? It’s a story about a nameless character told through her writings and internal monologues. It has no dialogue, only one character, no action, not much of anything. It’s about an internal life rather than the external lives we’re used to seeing onscreen.

My doubts soon became overshadowed by wanting to see my dream become a reality. And if nothing else, at least the people who worked with me on it, especially my dad and Aunt Liz, could see their efforts brought to fruition. I am proud of my younger self for not giving up where there were many moments when I almost did.

While this film is a work of fiction, with some bits of my own journey in there, this film very much captures a personal thing in my own life. It was filmed at my grandmother’s house in Maine. It’s a house I would visit every summer for most of my life. It was a very significant part of my childhood. This house is no longer in our family. While that’s very bittersweet, I am forever grateful I was able to capture parts of it in this film. Like my mother’s childhood bedroom or all my grandmother’s china in the dining room. Little details I will always have because of this film.

After I posted this short film, I remember having a conversation with someone I knew casually about it. She had watched the film and really liked it. We were talking about the boxes we are put into as a society, as people, as women. She made a point that my film challenges the boxes. Choosing to stray from the status quo when it comes to relationships, careers, all the things the character in my film grapples with.

I remember at the end of our conversation her saying, “there shouldn’t be one expected way of doing things. And people shouldn’t be seen as less than for choosing a different path.” That’s what I wanted people to think about with my film. Don’t put yourself in a box you don’t fit in. Be whoever you want to be.

Happy New Year!

Observations at a Bar One Night in December

I sit at the bar
in-between a young couple
drinking wine and eating chilly
and an older couple staring at
the menu for fifteen minutes
no drinks in front of them
for a second I wonder if
I should get a glass of
red wine I see bottles
to the right on the top
shelf they look good
but then I remember
I am driving home in
rush hour car to car
traffic which does not
mix well with wine
I cannot lose focus for
a second of feeling
like a proper adult
around strangers who
barely notice I am
sitting next to them

All I Know

my breathing has changed over the years
I breathe from my belly instead of my chest
trying to fill my scarred airways
with the opportunity to open up
no matter the difficulty
a little struggle with air
I don't know anything differently

these days I am grateful
air flows without blockage
every time I hear someone cough
I whisper thank you to my body
thank you for breathing
thank you for fighting
thank you for protecting