Cutting down

trees in the snow leaves
the blood of their trunks
splattered
across the forest floor
like a murder on a bathroom door...
The evidence blunt and vulgar.

I don't

really know how to contain myself sometimes....
When I hear parents scold children for simple, understandable mistakes, I almost burst with frustration. I can't imagine making children feel deeply guilty for anything.. the whole point of being a child is to learn, which requires making mistakes. Yes, reprehend and correct. Punish if necessary, but for god's sakes, don't kill their spirit. I want to diiiiiie hearing mean ass parents. Thank god, they just left. Poor kid.
At least his mom lets him grow out his hair. Little boy had hair past his shoulders.
Sure, have long as crap hair, but NO you can't get out of this toy store without being yelled at at least three times.

I need

to be trained more completely before I am left in this store alone.
Moms on a rush to pick up their children, I think, will be my worst nightmare in this store. A cluster fuck of a transaction was just made a moment ago, right after I had to literally run and speed like crazy person to get my Wawa sandwich as my only co worker on staff was waiting for me to get back so that SHE could go to pick up her child from day care.
Those ten minutes of stress is the first time I've been stressed since starting here, though. So while it may seem like this is a complaint or me venting my woes, it's actually a HALLELUJAH! that I don't work anywhere else. Toy stores rock.

Sometimes

I leave your side and keep on going.
Other times I can't get you out of my head.
You infect me with thoughts of you.
Your music seeps into my skin like warm water.
I want to you.
Bring me back to you, don't let me wonder away.
Grab my hand and don't let me go.
Use your strong arms and hold me tight, even if I yell at you to stop.
You know where I am, you know how to reach me.
Don't forget, please don't forget... because I just might. I don't want to but I my feet take me places I don't understand.
They carry my heart away and stomp out my memories. I'll tell them not to. Everyday.
But I can't control them.
Don't let me get lost.

Fight.

Fight fight fight fight fight fight fight for me.

I'll let

my hair grow wild
and stop painting my nails
I'll get rough fingers and toes
I'll be tough like nails
I'll be real like dirt and mud
I'll mix them up and jump right in
I'll let your hair grow grey
and let you eat your cake
I'll let you wear my big sweater and wull hat
I'll cover for you
I'll take the blame for you
Cuz I'll be old and wild and dirty
and you'll be warm

I've known

for plenty of time that, eventually, I am going to get another tattoo. A smaller one this time, and of a name. "Conchett." Conchett, a boy, was my imaginary friend when I was a young kid.
I have sort of kind of memories of Conchett, and the things we used to do.
Actually, they're probably just those memories you materialize in your mind after hearing stories from family members for years and years. Kyle and Caylynn laugh sometimes at the memory of me, a very small twig of a kid, rambling on in my car seat about the maps Conchett and I made, how we followed the maps all day, and how I'd once seen Conchett save Caylynn from a bear in the woods!
Yes, Conchett was a hero, smart, and quick on his feet. No one told me those last things exactly, but I somehow remember them to be true. I also have a mental image of him in my mind's eye. It's incomplete and vague... but oddly real.

Hearing about Conchett again a few months ago, I felt really inspired. The idea that I've always been exploring and imagining made me happy to think about. And the fact that my imagination as a child had a face, a name, a personality.. how great!
All the sudden it occurred to me that having Conchett's name as a tattoo would be a great reminder to me to keep imagining and and exploring. I feel really solid about it.
I'd have gotten this token already but I've had a hard time deciding HOW I'd like it done. Even with a single name, there are limitless options.. Simplicity or intricacy? Classic or creative? In sight or hidden?

We'll see. But I'm getting impatient so you know, I'll probably rush into a decision and learn to love whatever comes of it, no matter what. As long as it's his name, the rest doesn't matter too much. Tattoos make things you believe to be bigger and better than yourself somehow a part of you. The images outlast your life.

jk I wont rush-
but I'll focus and get a dang decision made, that's for sure.

After all the time

After you
Had you seen me with someone new
Hanging so high for your return
But the stillness is a burn

Had I seen it in your eyes
There'd have been no try after try
Your leaving had no goodbye
Had I just seen one in your eyes

I can't give it up
To someone elses touch
Because I care too much


Could you tell
I was left lost and lonely
Could you tell
Things ain't worked out my way

Wish the best for you
Wish the best for me
Wished for infinity
If that ain't me

Give it up
I can't give it up


I can't give it up
To someone elses touch
Because I care too much


Give it up
I can't give it up


-The XX