Thursday, July 26, 2007
Friday, March 09, 2007
In His Tears

A shot of whiskey sits; medicine for the pain
Another shattered heart; he feels like such an ass
The drink isn't working; her memory remains.
He stumbles to the sink; slowly pours it down the drain
A box of photographs on the table; constant reminders
She should be here today; he knows he is to blame
If only he could get past this; like some sort of blinder
He slams a fist into the wall; then screams out
He's staring at the phone; damn it why won't it ring
He hears her voice; knowing its his heart full of doubt
If only she was here; because seeing is believing
A swerving car jerks him back; it's reality once more
Her sweet voice whispers; she knows she's gone
The cemetery shines; a haven and heaven's door
Restless sleep seeing her; he prays for the dawn
A screen door slams in the wind; a car pulls into the drive
Cool wind rushes over him; suddenly she's standing there
She whispers in his ear, "I love you."; he believes she is alive
But in his mind he wonders; is this reality or a terrible nightmare?
He can smell her perfume; her face he can feel
She's in his arms; but for how long
It's an illusion he's certain, but damn it seems so real
Something seems out of place; he knows she doesn't belong
Tossing and turning; he awakes with no breath and a sharp pain
He smells like her; her lipstick is on his face
Suddenly it hits him; he's visited her on an astrological plane
Their love was true and real; nobody will ever take her place
Matters of the heart, so simple yet complicated
She's been gone for a while; going on twenty years
He's prayed for this moment; he's waited and waited
She knew he needed her; she could see it in his tears
She's watched over him since the day; he'd always managed so well
These past few years have taken their toll; they'll be together soon
His drinking has gotten bad; especially since he last fell
She's come to take him with her; once restless night in June.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Addi Greyce
Addisen Greyce
Friday, February 23, 2007
emotionally UN-stable
Looking back on where I've been in this life and where I plan to go, I realized, there's not a whole lot standing in my way. Well, unless you count my ever-expanding belly and the baby I'll deliver in about four months. But I don't personally consider that a "roadblock". Got me? Yea, I'm sure that will cause a minor slow down but won't necessarily put a permanent hault to my lifelong goals. It seems I've had oodles and gobs of time to sit around and think about what I want, what I need, and how I'm going to achieve these things since I left my job at the bank. Do I miss work? Hell yes. Do I want to go back right this very instant? Hell no. I'm quite content here in the present, but it just seems there is a lot of time for thinking. Even this damn blog, I could've updated it a million times already, but chose not to. I used to be able to sit down and write for hours, with no subject in mind or direction to be taken. Just write. Just relax. Nowadays, I couldn't write to save my life. I've hit a block and I don't like it. I've got all these pent up emotions and feelings screaming "LET ME OUT YOU CRAZY BITCH!!", and I can't seem to write 'em all down fast enough or even at all. Here they are, swirling around, taunting me and I can do anything but choke back the tears because I can't make 'em go away. Ok, I forsee about a million "prozac, zoloft, wellbutrin, and paxil" jokes headed my way, but I can't help it. Hell, if you are one of those "medicated" people like I used to be (No harm in being medicated!) then you know what I'm talking about. The never-ending fight for silence in your head. Even when I sleep they don't go away. I wake up still thinking about some problem or feeling. Where's your husband, you ask? HA HA!!! That's really a funny question because even when I do try and talk to him, he doesn't understand. As most men wouldn't. It's not about any one thing in particular or any one person..it's just a whole lotta EVERYTHING. Overwhelmed. Someone needs to plop my ass down in the center of group therapy, give me a pink straight-jacket, and let me just TALK TALK TALK TALK TALK!! Hell, at this point I could talk to a wall. I should probably quit while I am ahead and go cook dinner. Everyone has these problems, right? Everyone needs a hug sometimes, right? Yeah, that's what I thought.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Just Married

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