the concrete jungle

beep, beep, beep. shuffle, pardon me, shuffle shuffle. no sorry, I don't have any spare change. honk honk, sirens, yelling, no I don't have a minute... shuffle along. It never stops - always noisy, always people, bustling, sleeping in the doorway of a closed subway, standing in the middle of the traffic deep in conversation with god. Loud, bright, busy - escape. I get lost in it, get sucked up and spat out - but it is such a drastic shift from the mundane, the day-to-day. Would you live here? I don't know that I could. My soul may be restless, but I wouldn't withstand the current of constant movement this place is so well known for. Despite our differences, I feel safe here - a hidden face in a sea of human bodies. What's the zanzibar, I ask. You laugh. In a different world, it all seems to meld into one big pot of being. Everything that moves within me during the domesticated life I am living, dissipates. It's a good feeling, the nothingness of being away from our home. I begin to feel guilt creep up, but it doesn't last long, and I let it go. I'll be home soon, they will have missed me, I know. Not real missing though, just a moment in time that will pass as quickly as any other week where I am the constant. It's good to shake up reality every once in awhile, keeps us on our toes, teaches us resilience. I am so glad to hear you laugh, it's light and full of hope and trust. You laugh all the time, but not like this, this is a different kind of laugh. I laugh too, but as with you, it is different. What would we be like, without all of the 'things'? Pointless, maybe, to wonder. We wouldn't be us, that's for certain. That won't stop me from loving every moment that it is just 'us'... we wander the concrete jungle, and I feel you beside me, and I am happy.

lay it on me

I lay in a daze, my back aches, my head drums, my heart is heavy and my soul is in agony. The alarm goes off, the child peeks around the corner to assess whether I'm up yet or not. I'm not, but she knows the drill, and crawls into bed to warm up against my body. I soak it in, wondering how many more mornings I have left before she stops this morning ritual, grows out of it. I feel scared all of the time. I stay there longer than I should, the warmth of our bodies is enough to lull me back to sleep. But the looming bus arrival ushers me out of bed, she begrudgingly shuffles off to her room to get dressed. I look over at you sleeping, and I wonder what we've become. I ache to hold onto you, but it's already 10 minutes past when I should have gotten up, and so I hurry in some clothes and out of the room. You follow me, in my head - and I wish I didn't care so much. That's why we're here, I suspect.. we just care so damn much. I go through the motions, the chaos of five small bodies eating and dressing and getting out the door in a 25 minute time frame... and before I know it, they're off and I'm alone again with my thoughts. You rise, and we dance around each other - I'm waiting for you to say something, as I suspect you are of me. So instead, we hold onto our stubborn arrogance and ignore the love of our life - just like that. It doesn't seem like much, I guess - but today turns into yesterday and Monday turned into last week and I wonder what we've become. I daydream, and I'm back to those moments in the early mornings of our love.. when I had this irrational sense of optimism, this blind faith in our passion for one another. I found you when I needed too, I left and I came back and I loved you even harder... and now, despite all of what we've worked for, how hard we fought to get where we are... we throw it all to shit, in a stubborn and destructive ideology of having it all together. So I go to sleep alone, wondering if tomorrow we will wake up from this nightmare of holding our expectations over each others head. I doze off in a daze, my back aches, my head drums, my heart is heavy and my soul is in agony.

now honey if I'm honest, I still don't know what love is

Fucked up again. They got a hold of my rational, my logic, and took over. It came as sudden as an earth quake, leaving only destruction and chaos in it's path. I'm the last person who will help you understand, I just hold on to it, hoping we will rebuild. Sabotage in the name of stubborn and irrational disposition. Sabotage for the sake of self destruction. They say I don't know how to let you love me. Worth is such a fickle bitch, and I've never been all that good at weighing out the odds. I walk around, amidst the shattered glass and rubble of the storm. I want to be mad that you're still angry at me. I said I was sorry. I named it, acknowledged my faults - and logically I know it will take time to clean up the mess and earn back the trust. Irrationally, I think that it's unfair you are upset and hurt. I transform back to unaware child-like Katie, who does not understand self reflection, nor has the ability to grasp the depths of your despair. Aftermath of this type of storm, is impatience. I can read it like a book, I only wish I was better at recognizing the onset, wish I knew how to diffuse before the bombs went off destroying all of the work we've put in to building us back up again. I can say it's hard, that there are lot's of challenges associated with what we're doing, that we are stressed and there is a lot of pressure right now. I have no time for excuses lately, as it just keeps me running around in circles and my time is much to precious. So I will sit back in the shadows, be kind and loving and supportive and understanding as you regroup from the hard hits you took. I will wait until you are ready to start building again, and I'll take the brunt of the weight. I won't stop trying to learn how to show you my love, without destroying all of our work. I won't be so sorry, but instead I will give you my thanks that you withstood the storm. I told you there would be rain, and now you are seeing that instead I am a hurricane.

words would go, and then I'd just be sitting there on your floor; loving everything I see and no way to tell you what to look for

It's always when deadlines are looming that I find myself here. I'll call it self care and carry on. Whose to say I won't find my inspiration in the words that flow freely. Lately I've been feeling as though we are stuck on FF and life is an old VCR and I can't get the button unstuck. It's all going so very fast, and I'm so very tired - and all I really want is a time enough to appreciate the moments as they are happening in front of me. Forever trying to be mindful that they are not happening TO me, but rather that I am playing a very important role in all of them. And I am starting to accept that choice plays a big role in how the day to day is experienced by all of us. Seven bodies, seven personalities, seven opinions - all at the same time, I'm finally forgiving myself for feeling overwhelmed. It's been a journey, to be sure - one that we will continue to course through. We will fall, and get back up. We will fail, and learn from the mistakes. We will laugh a lot, and cry hard. There will be no shortage of overwhelming emotions. Fast tracking or not, it is a very beautiful life we are living. The fear is mostly gone, and when it does arise, it often goes as quickly as it came. I'm learning, always learning, of the ways in which my heart and soul can be inspired. Learning how to forgive myself, despite how quickly I distribute my forgiveness to others. For now, I'm going to give the VCR a kick and see if I can't get that button unstuck.