No, I don’t want to go home.

please clock stop ticking time away

Don’t want to go home today

He’ll look at me with those eyes

and tell the the same lies

make it so hard to leave

but leaving is just what i need.

to keep my sanity

I wont be forced into a mold


Can I just stay at work today

I don’t want to go home.

I cant deal with this sadness

a gaping wide open wound

bleeding profusely everywhere

I can’t contain it

I need to distract from it

pretend it’s not there

go through with my decisions

I didn’t make them in haste

I’ve been seething for oh so long now

I just don’t want to go home

Need to make my home

somewhere else.

Somewhere away from here

but not too far away

I ain’t skipping this town

just my old home that

I’ve been in a while

I really loved that place.

And I loved his face

but not anymore.

I don’t want to go home.

Yard Sale



Yard Sale

Trinkets for a dollar,

Crystal plates for two dollars.

Only took a lifetime of acquiring,

to end up with this vast collection.

Frames for a dollar,

Glassware for two dollars.

Every single thing was hand selected with love,

And bought with hard earned money.

Towels for a dollar,

Sheet sets for two dollars.

This ceramic dog with the broken leg used my Grandmother’s favorite,

and she adored this vintage pocket mirror.

Bake ware for a dollar,

Pots and pans for two dollars.

Some of the best meals you could ever imagine,

Were cooked from scratch in these dishes.

Costume Jewelry for a dollar,

Sterling silver rings for two dollars.

She went to church looking classy,

Three times a week in this cheap jewelry.

Worn shoes for five dollars,

New shoes for ten dollars.

Many of the new shoes still have the tags and the box,

She did have quite the shoe addiction.

Used dresses for five dollars,

New dresses for ten dollars.

These dresses sell for over a hundred dollars at the mall,

And even the used ones she probably only wore twice ever.

Blood pressure monitor for five dollars,

An elderly shower seat for ten dollars.

We see you rolling your eyes at the price tag.

A lifetime of vitality ended in withering weakness.

Box of Liquid thickener for five dollars,

Canes and Walkers for ten dollars,

This stuff may look like worthless junk to you,

But it’s all we have left on earth of our beloved Grandmother.

It’s at least worth a dollar,

And You want to pay a quarter.

think before you wear

feminism is stupid.

I’m not going to restrict myself to the boundaries of any stereotypical classification.

I am a woman. I have some feminist opinions, and some that one could call chauvinist.

Like several other women, I despise being objectified.

But unlike this feminism movement, where ‘Women can dress however they like, and it’s none of your business’ or ‘you gawking or cat-calling a scantily clad woman is your error, and not hers’; I think the way a women chooses to cover herself has shit tons to do with whether she is shamed, objectified, stared at, or what have you.

If you dress in a low cut shirt that shows a substantial amount of cleavage, a crop top that shows your perfectly toned stomach, or a skirt that your butt cheeks are visible in; you are screaming to be objectified.

When you dress yourself, and look in the mirror to give the ‘final OK,’ and your main thought is “Would you fuck me? Because I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me hard”; well what the hell do you think every person that encounters you for the rest of the day will be thinking? It’s not their fault that they have sexual thoughts about you. It’s yours. You don’t go to a strip club and rehash last night’s CSPAN conversation topics in your head do you? You are showing too much of your body and leaving nothing to the imagination. You are inviting everyone with the ability to look at you to fuck you in their minds.

We live in a society where it really is fair game to wear whatever you want. But just about every outfit you wear comes with its own set of consequences.

If you dress sexy, you will be sexualized. If you dress like a librarian, or like a member of the Duggar family, chances are people are not going to think sick thoughts about you in their mind.

You may not like dressing conservatively, but if you dislike others undressing you with their eyes, you have to decide which you dislike more: Turtlenecks and mom jeans, or slimy creeps burning laser beam glances all over your ass and tits.

Personally, I dislike slimy creeps more, so you will rarely find me wearing attire that I can be objectified in.

It’s a simple concept really.

It just requires a brain. And the ability to reason.

If you’re fishing in the sea for a potential mate, and you dress like you are slobbering between your thighs, well the target audience will be reduced to those with small minds that probably will use you for one thing and throw you out like yesterdays sale papers. If you want to attract a respectable person that will appreciate all of your attributes, have some class and put on some damn clothes.

If you are one of these types of women that enjoy being objectified, and your self worth is wrapped up in your fuckability, then go ahead and knock yourself out, Sister! You are a much more likely target of a rape crime. Congratulations. Go preach your “free the nipple” (but don’t you dare stare!) bullshit elsewhere, because I am not buying it.

This is why your biblical argument against LGBT rights is invalid.

Sodom & Gomorrah remnants

The Story of Sodom and Gomorrah.

I am posting the story straight from the NIV version of the bible below my short (although sweet) rant.
Why do Right-wing Conservative Christians use this passage of text to equate America, where LGBT rights are accelerating into existence, with this old town of Sodom?
Now that gay marriage is legal, it is still very, very different than Sodom and Gomorrah.
Let’s explore.
These two angels went to visit Lot, and Lot tried to get them to not stay with him that night. They insisted, and when the night came, “all the men in the town” came to Lot’s door demanding for him to present the angels so they could all run the train on them.
Lot said “No! Have my virgin daughters instead.” The men of Sodom said “No, we want those men,” and then told him to get out of their way.
Then the angels pulled Lot back in the house, and told him to notify his family to GTFO and not look back because they were going to pulverize that city.
Lot told his family,  they didn’t take him seriously and stayed, and Lot himself tried to stay in his beloved city of rape torture. The Angels grabbed him and his wife and daughters and they GTFO’ed, except his wife turned around for one more look at the city and she was turned into a pillar of salt.
End of Story.
Let’s talk about America. Let’s talk about our rights, and our laws, and what is considered a crime, and what little it takes to get locked up in jail.
If you had a male friend over, angel or not, and your entire neighborhood men came to your door demanding to rape your male friend, what would happen?
In ANY TOWN IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, you could call the cops, they would be there rather shortly to arrest all the gay men for attempted rape. Be honest with yourself, and use your brain, please.
Just because gay people in consensual relationships can now have the same slip of government letterhead(and tax/insurance benefits) as heterosexual couples, does not mean that America is ANYTHING LIKE Sodom and Gomorrah.
Sounds to me like Sodom was a big ol’ town of rape.
When the Supreme court rules it legal for Gang Rape to occur, we will then pick this subject back up and discuss it more then.
Until then, quit using the story of Sodom and Gomorrah to justify your hatred against people that have sex in a different hole than you or use a penis made out of something other than human flesh.
Here is the exact story for anyone who is not up-to-par with it. (Or if you heard it once in Sunday School twenty years ago and are a little bit fuzzy on the details.)

Sodom and Gomorrah Destroyed

19 The two angels arrived at Sodom in the evening, and Lot was sitting in the gateway of the city. When he saw them, he got up to meet them and bowed down with his face to the ground. “My lords,” he said, “please turn aside to your servant’s house. You can wash your feet and spend the night and then go on your way early in the morning.”

“No,” they answered, “we will spend the night in the square.”

But he insisted so strongly that they did go with him and entered his house.He prepared a meal for them, baking bread without yeast, and they ate.Before they had gone to bed, all the men from every part of the city of Sodom—both young and old—surrounded the house. They called to Lot, “Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us so that we can have sex with them.”

Lot went outside to meet them and shut the door behind him and said, “No, my friends. Don’t do this wicked thing. Look, I have two daughters who have never slept with a man. Let me bring them out to you, and you can do what you like with them. But don’t do anything to these men, for they have come under the protection of my roof.”

“Get out of our way,” they replied. “This fellow came here as a foreigner, and now he wants to play the judge! We’ll treat you worse than them.” They kept bringing pressure on Lot and moved forward to break down the door.

10 But the men inside reached out and pulled Lot back into the house and shut the door. 11 Then they struck the men who were at the door of the house, young and old, with blindness so that they could not find the door.

12 The two men said to Lot, “Do you have anyone else here—sons-in-law, sons or daughters, or anyone else in the city who belongs to you? Get them out of here, 13 because we are going to destroy this place. The outcry to the Lordagainst its people is so great that he has sent us to destroy it.”

14 So Lot went out and spoke to his sons-in-law, who were pledged to marry[a]his daughters. He said, “Hurry and get out of this place, because the Lord is about to destroy the city!” But his sons-in-law thought he was joking.

15 With the coming of dawn, the angels urged Lot, saying, “Hurry! Take your wife and your two daughters who are here, or you will be swept away when the city is punished.”

16 When he hesitated, the men grasped his hand and the hands of his wife and of his two daughters and led them safely out of the city, for the Lord was merciful to them. 17 As soon as they had brought them out, one of them said, “Flee for your lives! Don’t look back, and don’t stop anywhere in the plain! Flee to the mountains or you will be swept away!”

18 But Lot said to them, “No, my lords,[b] please! 19 Your[c] servant has found favor in your[d] eyes, and you[e] have shown great kindness to me in sparing my life. But I can’t flee to the mountains; this disaster will overtake me, and I’ll die. 20 Look, here is a town near enough to run to, and it is small. Let me flee to it—it is very small, isn’t it? Then my life will be spared.”

21 He said to him, “Very well, I will grant this request too; I will not overthrow the town you speak of. 22 But flee there quickly, because I cannot do anything until you reach it.” (That is why the town was called Zoar.[f])

23 By the time Lot reached Zoar, the sun had risen over the land. 24 Then theLord rained down burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah—from the Lord out of the heavens. 25 Thus he overthrew those cities and the entire plain, destroying all those living in the cities—and also the vegetation in the land. 26 But Lot’s wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.

27 Early the next morning Abraham got up and returned to the place where he had stood before the Lord. 28 He looked down toward Sodom and Gomorrah, toward all the land of the plain, and he saw dense smoke rising from the land, like smoke from a furnace.

29 So when God destroyed the cities of the plain, he remembered Abraham, and he brought Lot out of the catastrophe that overthrew the cities where Lot had lived.



During those times,
you don’t feel like you have a place in this world;
You are too far gone,
too out there.
Too different.

Carrying that shame around like a heavy load.
Every time you put it down,
you wish you could leave it on the ground;
but then you’ll say or do something,
pick it up again,
and continue on your way.

Why do I exist?
I can’t stand myself.
I wish I could beat me.
Beat all the things out that I don’t like.
Wouldn’t be much left after that.
I feel like I’m enclosed in a room
full of eggshells.
Everywhere I walk,
crunch, crunch, crunch.
When I try to open the door to escape,
try to sit down,
Try to fly,
crunch, crunch.
I fall down every time.
Fucking crunch.

Generation Y


We are the generation
with a tale of hardships on our lips
and sad poetry in our souls
Childhood was promising us
empty promises that will never be fulfilled.
Life will never be as good as it was back then.
We wage war against the establishment
with what little power we possess.
Cannot afford to make a real difference
Only the ones that are the problem can
So many people suffering
Many more bathing in self indulgence
mind numbing foolishness
Everyday, every hour, everywhere
There’s no where to get away from it
Only if you look inwards
can you see
Only by closing your eyes,
sealing off your ears,
and shutting your mouth,
quieting your mind,
and putting away your wallet.
But really, who can do that?
The masses are already gathered
gathered against themselves
the enlightened must gear up for a fight
a fight for truth and justice
and we may die trying
but at least we’ll die knowing.
We are Generation Y
and we’re living a lie.
We are Generation Y
and we’re living a lie.
We are Generation Y
and we’re living a lie.

The Last Time


Author Unknown

The Last Time

From the moment you hold your baby in your arms,
you will never be the same.
You might long for the person you were before,
When you have freedom and time,
And nothing in particular to worry about.
You will know tiredness like you never knew it before,
And days will run into days that are exactly the same,
Full of feedings and burping,
Nappy changes and crying,
Whining and fighting,
Naps or a lack of naps,
It might seem like a never-ending cycle.
But don’t forget …
There is a last time for everything.
There will come a time when you will feed
your baby for the very last time.
They will fall asleep on you after a long day
And it will be the last time you ever hold your sleeping child.
One day you will carry them on your hip then set them down,
And never pick them up that way again.
You will scrub their hair in the bath one night
And from that day on they will want to bathe alone.
They will hold your hand to cross the road,
Then never reach for it again.
They will creep into your room at midnight for cuddles,
And it will be the last night you ever wake to this.
One afternoon you will sing “the wheels on the bus”
and do all the actions,
Then never sing them that song again.
They will kiss you goodbye at the school gate,
The next day they will ask to walk to the gate alone.
You will read a final bedtime story and wipe your last dirty face.
They will run to you with arms raised for the very last time.
The thing is, you won’t even know it’s the last time
Until there are no more times.
And even then, it will take you a while to realize.
So while you are living in these times,
remember there are only so many of them
and when they are gone, you will yearn for just one more day of them.
For one last time.
-Author Unknown-

This is not my poem. This is a poem I read, and it made me very, very sad, because it’s true. Why do children have to grow up so fast? I’ve already experienced some ‘lasts’ from my daughter, and when I am with her, I try and keep my photographic/tape-recorder memory turned up full blast, so I can remember the way she does (quickly to become the way she used to do) just about everything. Maybe now, instead of bitching that her 2-year birthday pictures will cost me $250, I can be thankful and pay it without another word, knowing that this investment will one day be images that I stare at for hours with tears in my eyes. In the days when she’s a bratty, attitude-infested teenager that hates everyone just like I once was.



I am a Butterfly

I wrote this when I was in the sixth grade in 1996, at 11 years old. I wrote it for some poetry project we had to do for language arts. I also entered it in one of those poetry contests in the back of Seventeen magazine, and got published in some book called Memories and Daydreams, on page 127. I think it was just a hoax company that only published those to print EVERY poem entered, only to sell it back to ALL the poets featured for 60 dollars A BOOK. I bought that book, worked the entire summer that year just to pay it off, and it sits on my bookshelf to this day.



Butterfly Pink Purple


I am a butterfly,

with pink and purple wings.

I fly about gazing at the beauty

of the gorgeous shrubs.

When I see a tempting flower,

I fly down and kiss the precious petals.

I fly high and low,

and east and west,

to show all the anxious people

my pink and purple wings.

This is my life for the past 2 years now.



Other Moms: 2012-09-26-16-11-57-e1348932775611


Sitting here staring at a screen, wasting away,
Thinking of all the useful things I could be doing today.

I wonder how my daughter is, and what she’s doing right now.
I could spend as much time with her, as much as time would allow.

See, I have to work this petty job to make ends meet,
But if I didn’t have to, boy would my life be sweet.

I’d be the best house wife and house mom ever,
Home made dinner every night, house clean and whatsoever

Needed to be done would be done.
I’d be happy and for a while, this game of life would be won.

Instead, here I sit dreaming, trying to pass this time away,
Seeing how much of it I can let transgress seamlessly, everyday.

The weekends just fly by like I’m at work still,
When I want the clock to stop, so I can take it in and get my fill.

Though this is my life, this never ending cycle of work and a little play.
At least I can watch through the glass, all the others just getting their way.

I need to stop this rhyme, before I tear up and my coworkers see,
and think, “Gosh, what a blubbery sow! Let’s just leave her be.”


Clam Sauce

Red clam sauce


Whilst grocery shopping yesterday,
A can of red clam sauce came my way.
I couldn’t help but think of you,
And all the silly little things you do.
Like equating bodily functions with food,
Being perverted, hilarious, and crude.