She

There she is. She with no thought in her brain. She with no idea what surrounds her.

She has no recollection of the past. She has no notion of the future. All she knows is the here and now and even those lines seem blurred. Those who surround her do not know what to feel. Should they embrace her and hope for a successful return, or should they stand back and let it be?

All she can do is wait. All she can do is hope for the future to be bright. She longs to end it all. She longs for her surrounding world to disappear, but she won't be that lucky. Her wishes won't come true this time no matter how hard she dreams and imagines.

She has been one to neglect her past as well as her present. Does she regret it? Maybe. No one will know for sure. All anyone knows is when asked to tell her story, she refuses. She never utters a word. Once she dies, her story will die too. The story is already so one sided. How beautiful was she? No one will ever know, but those who laid eyes on her then. Now, she is the perfect image of a corpse. A corpse who will never die.

Grandma

Sorry this blog is not artsy at all. Just straight up truth. I have disconnected all the land lines in my room because the house phone always seems to ring when I am asleep and of course wakes me up. Therefore, I have disconnected them.

I got a phone call from my mom today asking me if I heard the phone ring at 1am. Of course, I did not hear the phone ring. She told me that my grandpa called to tell my dad that my grandma fell and she fractured her hip and shoulder.

When I was younger, my grandparents never cared about my brother and I. They were always concerned with their friends and having card games and what not. They never cared about their grandchildren. I do not feel close to them at all. My dad had the option of teaching me Yiddish so I could speak to them on a more personal level, but he chose not to teach me and therefore I feel even further from them. They both speak English, but I feel that if I could speak their first language, we could connect more.

My grandma has been sick for some time. She fell and broke her hip about 2 years ago. She has not been able to recover since and she hid the fact that she had breast cancer. The only reason anyone found out was because she hurt her back and the doctor found an extremely swollen breast. Since, she has been on a down hill spiral. She can't walk, yet she sneaks out of bed and tries to and when she does stuff like this happens. She falls and fractures her hip once again as well as her shoulder.

Last Saturday was her birthday and I was not able to attend the gathering. I do not feel any sadness towards my absence. Since my grandparents have been near death, they are suddenly all about family. Why do you wait until you're almost dead to want to spend time with your family? That makes me angry and since they never felt like they could make time for me when I was a kid, I refuse to make time for them.

When they die, I'm sure I will be sad, but I can't say that I will be heart broken.

Silent Whispers

I reach for your pearls and hold them tight
Your gaze upon my face warms me to my core
I wish that we can stay this way all night
Because you are the one I long for

Through your eyes I hear your silent whispers
As we dance to the rhythm of each others hearts
You paint me every thought into abstract pictures
Where our worlds collide into expressive works of art

If we continue on this way
I’m afraid there will be no end
We can never see the break of day
For we have trapped ourselves in never ending pretend

Through your eyes I hear your silent whispers
As we dance to the rhythm of each others hearts
You paint me every thought into abstract pictures
Where our worlds collide into expressive works of art

We toss and we turn
Yet we long for and burn
Each other forever and always

Through your eyes I hear your silent whispers
As we dance to the rhythm of each others hearts
You paint me every thought into abstract pictures
Where our worlds collide into expressive works of art

Journey Into An Unknown Future

Written 12/8/08

Empty shoe box from the back of the closet...check. Pile of papers and pictures...check. Sharpie, damn it, where did I put my damn sharpie. Ugh!!! Is it under that pile? No. How about here? Nope. What the fuck, it was right here. Oh duh, it's over here. Numbly pile photos and papers into a shoe box. Numb. Grab my newly found sharpie. Write on the side of the shoe box through tears. T-H-I-N-K-W-E-L-L. Done. Tears fall smudging the last L. Shoe box is placed on the shelf. Lights turned off. Door closed.