Why we were late for Sunday dinner...

My lap...best seat in the house.

Make me a memory...

I come before you, a woman. Simple flesh and blood and bone and heart. My cells lay upon themselves and create me, quizzical matter. I’m here. Present in this body, this collection of thoughts and dying breaths. Do you see me?

Do you wish to wreck upon me? Crash your self senselessly against my words, place yourself squarely in the path of destruction that is my life. And destruction is it. Destroying all preconceived notions placed before me. Destroying all expectations that lie in the distant sight that is my current place in existence.

You see me from afar. What do you think of me? Headstrong? Heedless? Stubborn? Sensual? Demonic? Angelic? Pristine? Soiled? Inconsistent? Plain? Blurry?

What do you see when you stop to really look? Do you see my struggle to contain myself from bursting forth in a world-shattering fall of nouns? Do you sense my fire burning? The one that draws me to the world in a need for fuel for my dialogue.

I am here. Damn it. I am here. Fucking look at me. Don’t just glance. Take a deep breath and press me into your brain. Make me a memory. Let me haunt you.

Hurricane

Let me wash over you
Like the eye of a hurricane
Leave you wild, untethered,
And surrounded by rain

Let me press hard against you
Like the most ferocious wind
Let me blow away your worries
Cause your branches to bend

Let me pick you up
Send you spinning through the air
Bring you closer to perfection
Make you think you’re almost there

Let me rush in fast and free
And carry you away
Amaze you with the beauty
Of my tenacity

Let me leave you clean and pure
With sunshine in my trail
And nothing but the passing breeze
Drowning out my final yell.

*Washing away my past, today I start anew. Taking 30 by storm. I'm officially divorced and I've left my 20s behind. Bring it.

Just bring it.