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.

prerequisites for having your first child.


You have mostly free time on your hands. Time you have absolutely nothing to do, and wish there was something to tie up most of your waking hours every single day. Boredom isn’t NEARLY as fun as a huge list of responsibilities that you’d be criminalized for if you ignored.

You have extra money and nothing to do with it. A LOT of extra money, that you wish you had a black hole in your wallet to consume this surplus of cash you’re sitting on.

You have no friends already, or a lot of friends that you spend time with and wish you didn’t. You don’t like them anymore and are ready to get rid of them. You need a valid, constant excuse for blowing them off/severing your friendships.

You don’t have anything to worry about. You wish you did have something to worry about, that way you’d feel like you had a purpose or feel important. Either way, you wish you worried A LOT more about something, constantly.

You enjoy your meals in their entirety from beginning to finish. This bothers you, because you enjoy making/eating your meals, savoring their fresh taste, without any interruptions, and you wish you had something to break it up so you could take longer to shovel in a bite here and there whilst tied up doing something else, that is perceived as more important than your meal.

It’s too quiet in your house. There is just too much time that is not filled with an audio soundtrack that makes many people want to jump off a cliff. You wish you had this soundtrack, you’d play it on repeat, every single day, with every single thing that you did. When this track was silenced, you would audio hallucinate that you heard this track, though it would be a figment of your imagination, haunting you, until the next time you heard it.

You don’t do enough laundry. You only have a couple loads per week, tops, and you love it so much you wish you could do twice as much. This includes folding/hanging up/putting up/buying detergent and fabric softener sheets.

You don’t do enough dishes. You wish you had several more containers to wash every time you do the dishes. More than that, you wish you had more intricate tiny dishes that have several pieces and parts that need a tiny dish brush that required you to hand wash up in, and if you don’t, the dishwasher will not get them clean for you.

You don’t generally clean your house enough. Everyone knows that the cleaner your house is the less you get sick. You keep it sparkling, and wish you had a reason to clean it more often, and more in-depth.

You don’t get sick enough. You only get sick with the sniffles about once a year, and this just won’t do. You enjoy being sick, and enjoy going through boxes of tissues and cold medicines, and wish you had more fevers and visits to the doctor. If only your immune system could just self-destruct.

Your life is too fun. You go on several adventures, hiking, skiing, camping, kayaking, traveling, eating out, wine tastings, museums, laser tag, picnics, vacations, clubbing, partying, dancing, singing, fishing, golfing, etc. etc. that all happens outside of the home, and you’re sick of it. You want to have all further adventures, at least for the next two years, inside of the home.

Lastly, and most importantly, You don’t have enough cuteness in your life. You swoon over puppies, or kitties, or other peoples’ babies in public places, and wish you had something that cute to look at on a regular basis. Your partner is cute to look at, but definitely not in the way a baby is.



Your divine voice,
I’ll never hear speak again.

Your contagious laughter,
and quick witted humor,
will never make me smile again.

Not only me,
but your precious baby
that is only a few months old.

And a family that loved you
so very much
but you forgot in a moment

One moment
that ended your time
here on this earth.

How could you forget?
Were you blind to your own charm?

The atmosphere always lifted
when you entered a room.

You cup was overfilled with joy,
and energy,
How could you not have saved some
for this rainy day?

Today is actually filled
with sunshine in the sky

But cloudy drear in the hearts
of all those that were blessed enough
to know you.

You are missed,



Broken plans,
Unmade calls.

I’m sorry I was too busy for our friendship.
Having a baby is a lousy excuse, and for that, I apologize.
You are one friend I wish I’d have taken more time for.

Though time keeps on passing us by,
oh, so fast,
Every time I see you it feels the time gap dissipates
and we pick up exactly where we left off.

Your smile is heartwarming,
your laughter, contagious.
Your story, relative.

When we arrive in heaven,
whenever that may be,

At least we’ll have an eternity to sit together,
to talk
to laugh
to embrace
to sing,
and to dance.
perhaps I will not be too shy in heaven.

I love you as a friend loves their best friend.
Your soul is a breath taking sunrise,
shining on all those that encounter you.

I’m just sorry I haven’t put more effort
into developing our time on earth more
in the past two years.

That still doesn’t change the caliber of my feelings for you.
Nor my hopes that you will reach the highest level
of joy attainable here on earth
in this lifetime.

Farewell, my friend.
I will never forget you.
Not in this existence,
or the following.



Slowly circling around a hard place,
shielding me from the outside hurt

tempting, nagging, longing,
as I slowly make my way under the edges

undermining the fortress
and wading through the moat,

tearing off the armor
that covered my wounds

The stinging sensation
of the air that forcefully takes the reigns

staring at my accomplishment
cloaked in shame
As I bleed

Regret floods my soul

I wish I wouldn’t have picked that scab