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:: XV. Grams

Twenty Seventeen, I am declaring, is the year in which I embark upon, as Dustin, a host from one of my favorite podcast shows, The Friend Zone, calls it, the C H A N G E. I am beginning to pry myself open, one bolt, nail, and screw at a time. I am deconstructing myself to reconstruct myself. In a constant state of rebuilding, reshaping, re-configuring, the various moments, aspects, truths, shelves, walls, windows, and doors of my life. Leaving them, not just ajar, but open to accepting the growth that NEEDS to happen within me... to me. Letting the LIGHT in. The sunshine. And it is because of this CHANGE, in which, I finally break down the barrier of sharing my own personal writings. Writings, that live either virtually in the "Notes" app on my phone or, physically, on lined paper, in the various journals hidden in plain sight. Again, just as I am doing for myself, I am giving them the light they deserve to have. Thus, I will continue to leave bits and pieces of myself scattered about for those willing to collect them.

Taking one of many leaps to come, instead of my usual musical selection or literary selection, I'll leave a short poem of my own.

It is nothing grand.

And that is okay.

As I am no poet, I have no technical skills. I simply right words that feel as if they flow concurrently with my thoughts and feelings at the time. I do not go back to edit. I do not alter it to please anyone - beyond myself. I just write until my thirst is quenched. And such was the case with this piece I will share below, titled: Unsaid • Left Better.

Written, a few years ago, January of Twenty Fourteen to be exact, in response to a new adventure in which I partook with some of my closest and dearest of friends. I wrote: “Will it happen again, maybe, but it isn't something I'll go out of my way again to do so. But I did it with my girls, which I hear is something that should be tired with the right people. And that it was: the right people. I haven't a single regret. I had the absolute best time of my life. I most certainly did."

Unsaid • Left Better

Left better

To those in which the moment


For and shared

Unsaid joys felt

Immersed in a cloud


Proud and not

The cup was full of rotten apples

Accompanied by Scooby

Snacks for girls

Sweetness and pizza

Because the cloud

The memories are stored

In a field of Smoke.

That is all.

It is there, I end this. I hope you find it in yourself to reread and share my few words. Though, not strung together in the most eloquent of fashions, they still hold quite a bit of meaning. Rather, they hold a memory. A memory of a time of simpler days. A time of laughter. A time of shared happiness. A time of LIFE’s finest and best.

So, again, read. Reread. Share. Repeat.

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f o r • e v e n • m o r e . . .

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