Two Weeks Ago

Two weeks ago, I asked on my Instagram, what should I write about next? The options were change and forgiveness. Change won.

Two weeks ago, I had put in my notice at the grocery store I have worked at for the last year and a half. I was excited to begin a new chapter, to have more free time, and to feel like my hard work had begun to pay off.

Two weeks ago, I took a road trip with one of my best friends to VA.  We went to a friends wedding (this was a joyous reconciliation between the bride and myself).  I drank a lot of wine and danced like it, the whole night.

Two weeks ago Covid-19 was another weird sickness in China. It was another news reel of people in face masks that I had seen before. It was a problem for them but not for us.

According to CDC, Covid-19 was in the US back in January but I didn’t hear about it until two weeks ago when the first death was reported in Washington state.

Six days ago, positive tests for Covid-19 were found in Michigan, in the same county I live in.

Three days ago was supposed to be my last day at the grocery store but, being the economy is effectively non-existent at this point, I thought it best to stay in the industry that is imperative to continue operation. Plus I have health insurance through them.

Hours ago, Canada announces the closing of its borders. We have nurses here that are from Canada. The EU is closing its borders. San Fransisco is under lockdown until April. They closed down bars and restaurants in Michigan – what is even happening?  

Anyway, two weeks ago I wanted to write about how excited I was about the new changes in my life and how I felt so positive about the future. I wanted to write about the totally, awesome things going on in my life. I wanted to write about my hard work, the times I wanted to quit but how it got me here.

Two weeks ago it was a different world.

I’m not worried about running out of food. I mean if people keep acting psycho, yes but if we all chill out, the food is going to be just fine. I’m not specifically worried about myself getting sick. I’m young and pretty healthy. Obviously, I would prefer to not get sick.

I am concerned about my 54-year-old, diabetic father who has smoked his whole life. I am worried about my 81-year-old grandma who has beat cancer like 3 times. I am worried about my sister in law going into labor any day.

I know we will all get passed this but what does the other side look like? I’ve never known a world where I didn’t have a general idea of how tomorrow would be – until now. I am largely unprepared on how to handle the situation. Do I have enough food? Should I get water? What does going into “lock down” mean? Do I need to stockpile wood and matches? Do I need to learn how to farm?  Live off the land? How far are we going with all of this?

None of this seems real. I didn’t think anything like this would happen so fast. It’s easy to see how things unravel and control is lost. I don’t want to talk about it but it’s everywhere around me (the shelves are empty at the grocery store, it’s creepy).

It is all I’m thinking about.

I don’t want to lose control over myself because panicking will get you nowhere but I would be a liar if I didn’t admit to feeling a lot of anxiety right now. There are so many things that keep running through my head and I’m not sure how to stop them or to think of something else. I don’t want to disregard a serious situation but I don’t want to panic either.

The truth is sometimes change is a process that happens through dedication and hard work to a greater goal that you believe in but sometimes change is forced upon you. I want all of this to be over and I want life to go back to normal but I think this is going to get worse before it get’s better.  I think I’ll get sick because I didn’t quit the grocery store but mostly people are keeping their distances and they’re not speaking much to anyone. It’s weird. I actively avoid getting close to anyone. My hands are raw from washing so much, I’m obsessive about everything being sanitized especially at the grocery store. The various food bars are shut down. I bought brownie mix today because I guess my ovaries are panicking too and saying – IDK JUST BAKE SOMETHING! PEOPLE LIKE CHOCOLATE! 

This shit is getting very real, very fast. I guess at this point the only thing you can do is hang on tight. In Florida they say – Hunker down

Whatever that means.

What will two weeks from today look like? 

bad self portraits

Allow me, if you can, a moment to be a bit…. dramatic. I have been profoundly sad for roughly 2 weeks. I want to cry all the time and I feel like I’m pretending to be someone else when I’m not crying. I want to avoid being alone at all costs and drink alcohol. Then I go out, however, and am annoyed by everyone and have 1 glass of wine and just want to go to sleep.

It’s weird going from having a very intimate perspective of a person to effectively  pretending like they’re a stranger while you try to forget the electricity you felt and still do, feel for them. It’s hard just being friends with them because what do you do with all the other stuff and how do you just ignore the elephant that’s standing in the room? I feel stupid because I didn’t know them for very long but they invited me into their lives, introduced me to some of their family, shared personal things with me, made me feel special and how do you forget that? How do they? How do you not feel a certain sense of inadequacy about yourself?

I suppose that’s what’s got me most upset, this feeling of not enough that’s sort of always screaming in the back of my head but only really gets loud when you show someone yourself and they reject it. For me, I spiral into thoughts of what’s wrong with me? How come the people I want to date, never want to date me? Why do terrible people get to have a bae and I don’t? Why don’t I know how to make good decisions? Why do I keep repeating the same patterns? How can I trust my judgment?

It isn’t exactly dating that’s got me so upset or the fact that yet another guy, doesn’t want to date me but rather it’s what it represents at this point for me. I’m going to be 30 in a week and I have nothing to show for myself. I don’t have a real career (I’m a bartender at a grocery store). I don’t own a home (I rent with 2 random women I met on the internet). I don’t have children (I don’t want them). I am single with not even a potential prospect. I have failed on all points of society’s perception of a successful life and I think oh that’s why: I have nothing to show for myself.

I don’t exactly mind that I haven’t followed the “American Dream” footpath because I think back to when my mom turned 30. I was 7 and I remember we had a house party and it was “over the hill” themed. Being 7, I didn’t know what hill she had gotten over or what that even meant and even now, I don’t really feel 30. I think about how at 44 she was a divorcé living with her parents and not eating.

I think about this customer that comes into my work, who in his late 40’s and is seeing a 27-year-old woman who told his now ex-wife about the affair causing him to get divorced. The same woman broke his foot with a flower pot when she was upset with him.

I think about this other middle-aged woman who told me how one day she came home early with her children to find her husband in bed with another man. She was unaware he was unhappy in their relationship or that he was battling with his sexual identity.

It occurs to me, fundamentally speaking, humans are messy. Life is messy and that’s okay. It is very hard to go against the grain of what the world expects of you. You do regularly have to answers questions about what is wrong with you? Why aren’t you doing this or that? To a point, you can say fuck society but when it’s all around you, at times your perseverance will be worn thin, at least that’s the case for me. Right now.

It helps me to consider the ways other people’s lives fall apart because it helps me put into perspective my pity party with a realization, life isn’t that bad for me. That’s not to say I don’t still battle with my insecurities of failure and inadequacy. I don’t know how to overcome these feelings despite the fact I know I have a lot of good qualities about myself but so often, I’m reminded that these things aren’t that important.

I went on a date with someone weeks ago who told me it was OK that I like to write, am into theatre, and do art but that I should also get into “cool” things like sports and partying. He didn’t care that these are things I’m proud of and things that I value more than sports and partying but that is so often the mentality I am met with.

I feel like I’m always being put into a box of “this how you should be” and there is no regard to whether or not that’s what I want to be or whether or not I want to accept that. I perpetually feel like I’m compromising my feelings and opinions about a situation for the comfort of everyone else involved. I don’t always know where my voice is and I’m sometimes afraid of using it.

I’ve worked jobs I hated because I wanted to not be seen as an unmotivated loser. I’ve put an unnecessary financial strain on myself living alone, because I wanted to prove I have my shit together, so to speak. I’ve gone along with things I hated because I didn’t want the confrontation despite those people wouldn’t do the same for me. I’ve remained friends with people who have hurt me deeply because I don’t want them to be sad too even though it can feel like my insides are falling out every time I see them. It’s still this box I’m shoved into or maybe I go willing into and the best part is, no one cares that you feel this way because it’s easier for them.

So I’m met with this sort of identity crisis at 30. I don’t know how to trust my judgment because it seems like I am wrong at every opportunity. Even though this episode was spawned by someone not wanting to date me, it’s more so about the perceived ways in which I am failing in life. I don’t know how to make peace with these things or how to overcome them. I think things will eventually turn around for me because at best, I am a stubborn sort of woman and perpetually curious about most things. I do know that I have people who love and care for me. I know that I do have many great qualities about myself and I know I’m not as much of a mess as it feels sometimes. Eventually, I will find the path I’m supposed to be on (or maybe I’m already on it) but in the season of life, in this current moment, I have lost the sunshine.


I joined a dating site (again) because I’m bored and a masochist, apparently. This morning I had the pleasure of speaking with Drew. Drew asked me a couple questions about the software engineering degree I’m pursuing, whether or not I was at work and who this man is in one of the Instagram pictures on my profile. I had initiated the conversation because he mentioned he was plant based in his profile and vegetarians and vegans love meeting other vegetarians and vegans and talking about it. By the time he asked about the mysterious man in the picture (my brother, btw), he expressed I wasn’t giving him much to work off of when I said it was a weird question to ask who the man is. He said he was grasping at thin air, trying to find something to talk about.

The way I understand how conversations work, one person asks a question or makes a statement, the other responds to you and the conversation builds; dialogue 101. Drew, however, asked me random questions that didn’t relate to each other and thus the conversation did not flow and it was difficult to build any deeper conversation. It was more like a job interview than an actual conversation. Still, I thought it was going fine until he really lost his cool with the brother question. At that point he called me a “minimum wage loser” for working at Whole Foods (WF) and staying in bed till 10:30 AM on my day off.

It goes without saying that Drew is in fact, an ass hole. I do not understand this idea that your value as a person is wrapped up entirely by what you do for money. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately as I continue to go deeper into the software engineering program and work more at WF.

I have had a lot of jobs since I started working when I was 16. Since I graduated from college 8 years ago, I have had 6 different jobs. I have been an account manager, a paralegal assistant, an office assistant, customer service representative, a dishwasher and a cook (to be fair the last 2 have been at the same company). I have hated all of those office jobs for various reasons. I hated dealing with the 9 – 5 traffic, I hated sitting at a desk, I hated staring at a screen all day,  I hated that I was completely and totally bored by these jobs and what I hated most was that I felt like I was wasting my life away and wasting my intellect on things I felt completely disconnected from. Everything about these jobs was designed to increase profit and that is what I chased at every one of them and I hated it.

Of course, I understand that a business needs to make a profit to function. However, my job at WF is to make food. It needs to taste good and look good so people will buy it but the goal of the profit is more or less removed from the actual practice of my day to day life. I can talk to cool people all day, or listen to music and get lost in my own thoughts. My best ideas for poems and stories and art come when I’m at work and can let my mind wander.

Drew made a lot of assumptions about me, based on his insecurities about himself. He thinks I’m a loser and unmotivated to better myself because I work in the service industry. To Drew, people who work service jobs aren’t smart enough or work hard enough to “make it” in more glamours fields. It didn’t occur to him, that I chose to work at a grocery store and it wasn’t because it was the only job I could get. It didn’t matter to him, that I had tried his lifestyle for many years and every time it made me completely miserable. I gained weight at these jobs and had anxiety dreams almost every night about being late to work. Some weekends I couldn’t even relax because I was too anxious about Monday. I would take a vacation and still be expected to be available if someone needed something in the office. I was never in charge of my time, at these jobs.

I’ve been struggling with whether or not I want to continue with software engineering because I know it’s going to put me back at a desk, surrounded by more Drew’s.  I know I’m going to be so mentally exhausted, that I won’t paint or write. Since I started at WF, I created this blog and made active efforts to maintain it, I’m doing more art, I’m more social and engaged with the world, I’ve lost 20 lbs and have started working on other bigger projects. I’m networking with more people who inspire me with my projects and set my mind ablaze. These are huge positive changes.

I’m scared, however. I’m scared of people like Drew who think I don’t have any value because I work at a grocery store. I’m scared of disappointing my inner circle that thinks I’m destined for great things and my grandma who wants me to be an executive because, in her time, women didn’t do that. Drew is scared too because Drew is unhappy and insecure about his own life. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have felt the need to degrade a stranger on a dating app for no reason. He wouldn’t need to judge people’s income if he truly felt secure in his own. I’m sure Drew’s life seems excellent on the outside but he’s deeply unfulfilled and that’s what happens when you work a job that doesn’t have any value to you. The difference between me and Drew, however, is that I am finding the courage to jump over that fear and be in a place that allows me to pursue the things that make me excited about the world.

I don’t know what I’ll do with my education. It’s interesting to me and I can certainly become a freelance programmer as a side hustle if I felt so inclined to do so. What I do know, is that I haven’t felt this free in a very long time. Is my job perfect? no. Are there days I do kind of hate it? Of course. Does the good outweigh those days though? Absolutely. Drew will always be unhappy because Drew is living a life he doesn’t actually want, even if he can’t admit it to himself. I may never have the executive career my grandma wants for me and it’s very possible I will disappoint my entire family by building a career at a grocery store but what they don’t understand is that maybe then, I’ll be able to fly.

 – Neptune


I think a lot
about this sign,
I saw in a coffee shop.

And I think
about that coffee shop
and how everyone inside
looked like a social media influencer
but seemed to lack
anything genuine

and I know,
I’m being judgmental
about people I don’t know
and a place I went to once
but even inside the shop
that played my beloved jazz
and had dark wood
paneled walls
and checked all the boxes
of what I like
in a coffee shop
it felt like a facade.
like shopping at Urban Outfitters.

The sign on the door
was a list
of all the different ways
you can be human.
the sign said,
all humans are welcome,
including humans with disabilities.

But, as soon as you came in,
there were 5 steps
one has to climb
in order to get to the counter
and buy a coffee.
So even though,
the sign said everyone’s welcome,
nothing was actually done
to ensure everyone is able.

So you can be welcome,
but you may not be able
to get in
based on your physical abilities.

and I think about
how thats how our world works
we say but never do.
we create “movements” online
but lack systematic change
for movements to matter.

And then when you question it all,
someone with fake glasses
points to the sign
and says everyone’s welcome,
and pretends
the stairs
can be willed away
with positive vibes.


I have a long list of lovers
I consider in the hindsight
of nostalgia.

I think about the tiny moments
that are shared between souls
when it feels like
the rest of the world fades away.

I am the star
I my personal collection
of romantic scenes.

Drunken bare feet dancing
in spare rooms of rental houses
with only Sinatra on vinyl filling the room.

Maybe it was on the shore of Lake Michigan
under the peeping eye of a full moon
and waves crashing at our feet.

How about when it was singing a duet
in a trashy dive bar outside of town
in absolute, perfect harmony.

What if its how the Beatles
always remind me of his stupid fedora
and how he was always a performer?

Perhaps it was the first one
and lazy rivers on summer days
with first loves’ first kiss.

I can list every way
they were all wrong for me
but nostalgia doesn’t work that way.

I replay the reels
of my comedic tragedy
that has been my love life, thus far.

And I wonder if it’s possible
for that sort of thing
to always be present.

Or if all relationships eventually stagnate
and fall victim to the drone
of everyday life.

And if thats the case,
I prefer the electric moments,
however fleeting.





auspicious winters

The hour between 4 and 5
in January
in Michigan
is my favorite moment
of everyday.

If the suns out anyway,
because if we’re blessed
with a clear sky in winter,
at 4 o clock
gold kisses the naked trees
and radiates from buildings
in contrast
to elongated shadows
drifting lazily across the ground.

I get caught up
in the distraction
of lifes necessities
and I forget
what I’m supposed to be doing.

And then it’s 4 again –
For a moment
those auspiciously stubborn
naked trees cling to their gold
and allow for time
to stand still
so light can dance
a little while longer
anticipating the length
of summer
and the warmth light shares
when it rules time.



I forget my headphones literally every time I have to go to class.  The last 3 times I’ve been on campus, I have bought new headphones just so I can leave them at home again because past Jen, is an inconsiderate ass hole. I have 4 pairs or working headphones and one would assume I’d have the gumption to keep a back up in my purse, and my car, or maybe in my coat pocket but apparently my past self doesn’t consider the needs of my future self.

I graduated college in 2011 at the ripe age of 21. My degree is in film and literature studies and I think it sounds cool but I never really did anything with it. I more or less picked it because I thought it was interesting and it came easily to me for the most part. I didn’t really challenge myself in going to college and in large part, approached it like high school and essentially bullshitted my way through school by taking art and English classes. I don’t want to suggest there isn’t value to the liberal arts nor do I want to say they’re easy. I think certain disciplines come to people easier than others. I still can barely add. Creative bullshit comes easily to me and sometimes I think it’s actually pretty good.

I’ve always been a person of many curiosities and passions and I have never really known what I wanted to be when I grew up. So I picked an arbitrary degree that sounds interesting but was also a big waste of $50,000. I’m a huge supporter of further education because the most important things I learned in college, were not necessarily in class. I had the same problem then, as I do now and past Jen wasn’t considering the needs of future Jen.

Seven years later, I elect to go back to school, this time in something a bit more practical and probably not as fun as film – computer science. It’s strange going back to school because the vast majority of persons in my class are fresh out of high school. I feel like the old person in class (in spite of there being a few older pupilsisn’t that an awful word, btw?). Yesterday in my Java class, a student went up to the professor and told him he already learned in Java in high school and knew everything. The professor laughed and said he was glad he knew everything and could teach the class. Then he said, “Just kidding, I’ve had people say that before and they end up failing my class….” 

I don’t know what that kid was hoping to gain by his omission of knowing everything. I like how teenagers and young adults speculate how important high school is.

I suppose I’m taking my education more seriously this time around. I don’t know if it’s because I’m paying for these classes and understand the investment I’m making in myself to build a better future. I certainly didn’t think this way when I was 18 – 21. My mindset then was this is the next step and also there are no parents so I can do whatever I want. Now, I value that I’m learning a new skill set that’s going to open up new doors for me and I care about understanding those skills and how to perfect them.

In retrospect, I wish I would’ve waited in going to college, but maybe I never would’ve gone at all, if I didn’t just do it right after high school (maybe past Jen isn’t a total jerk). I certainly would’ve been smarter in what I chose to study, even though I don’t regret knowing about film and literature on a deeper level. There’s certainly something to be said about cross-discipline knowledge that allows a person to breathe new life into something or see from different perspectives.

I kind of feel like I’m in the twilight zone at school though. I’ve been talking about going back for years and I’m finally doing it. It’s sort of the same as round 1, but it’s also a bit different. Today my professor told us he wanted us to text him if we’re going to be late or miss class. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like that’s weird. I can certainly understand sending an email to say you had some sort of an emergency come up, but why a text?

I’m at the student center and I had a crepe from “Freshens” which is a smoothie place that was in my university 7 years ago. There’s a grand piano and some man is playing it. I don’t think he’s hired to do it, because he’s just wearing regular clothes but the music is a nice touch. He makes mistakes and restarts the phrase but when he gets in his groove, it’s wonderful.  I don’t know if anyone else is listening to him play. Everyone is talking on the phone, in a group or has headphones on.

I suppose if I had remembered my headphones today, I probably wouldn’t notice the piano man and his beautiful songs. I like when life gives you these sorts of treats when you’re in exactly the right place at precisely the right time. You get the opportunity to hear a piano man fiddle around on a piano. In a way, past Jen was thinking about future Jen because this is nicer than my nonsense music (JK, I have excellent taste in music).

That’s it for today, friends!

Update: Someone else is playing now and they’re incredible. This is a perfect hall to listen in.

the ship iv

The past few days have been busy with family time over the holiday. Regretably, I haven’t been able to write, however today, I have delivered the 4th installment of The Ship. If you’re new to the story, you can catch up by with Parts I, II, and III.


We had been meandering for a few hours towards the curious object, when the androids finally started sending back information.

“Oh… Jade! Look at this!” Opal exclaimed.

She displayed the findings of one of the androids on the main screen of the bridge. It was the measure of its atmosphere.

“It’s got oxygen!” I said.

“Not just Oxygen!” Opal replied, “but nitrogen and… well, a bit less carbon than we’re used to but definitely enough for us to adjust to. Jade, it’s almost perfect!”

“Anything on the surface temperature?” I inquired.

Opal, scanning through the readout, mumbling off various facts of the object said to herself,

“I think it’s a planet,  it doesn’t seem big enough to pull us into orbit this far away from it. There must be something else….” she trailed off.

“Opal!” I said a little louder as she snapped back from her thoughts “surface temperature?”

“What? Oh, no not yet. They’ll take multiple reads from different areas on the surface to get a range of temperatures. That’ll take awhile. It’s got water though, lots of it from the looks of it… Oh! and land! Jade! What if this is it?”

“Oh be serious. We were born the ship and we’ll die on this damn ship.” I replied.

Opal rolled her eyes at me. What if it was? I thought to myself. What if we could actually get out of the ship. I mean really get out of the ship and feel the grass on our feet… and animals! Real animals?

“Where’s Ansel?” I asked Opal.

“I’m not his keeper.” she responded, “Why don’t you just call him?”

I glared at her but picked up the phone and waited for him to answer,

“What is it?” Ansel answered.

“The androids have started sending back information on the rock. The atmosphere is tolerable for us and it’s got water and land.” I said.

“Is that what’s pulling us into orbit?” He asked.

“We don’t think so. Opal said its too small and too far away to be pulling us in. She said there’s something else out here. She thinks we’re on the outside edge of a solar system.” I explained.

“Well, this is exciting. I’ll be right there.” Ansel said as he hung up the phone.

I began setting in the coordinates to head directly to the rock. At the very least, it’ll give us something to look at. If it has water and land, maybe it has plants and that would be amazing to see; everything is dead in space outside the ship.

“Oh my god!” Opal yelled as Ansel came into the bridge. “The average surface temperature is about 15°C with ranges of 58°C to -88°C!”

“That seems extreme,” I said.

“No, it’s probably the variations of temperatures from mountains and the poles and then along the equator of the planet. This has to be a solar system and the rock’s in the sweet spot.” Ansel said.

“Should we wake everyone? Tell everyone?” Opal was almost giddy with excitement.

“How many people do we have fully immersed in the Simulation and how many do we have that are fully in reality?” I asked.

“Most of them are in the Simulation. There’s only… 100 fully in reality and maybe another 20 to 30 more that sort of divide their time between the two. The other 800 or so are fully integrated into the Simulation.” Ansel said.

“Send a message to those who divide their time between the 2. Tell them they need to come back if they’re in. The rest of the people here, let’s gather them in the library and tell them.” I said.

“What about everyone else?” Opal asked.

“They made their choice a long time ago,” I said.

“What about…. what about my parents and my family?” Opal cried.

“You can make your own choice, Opal,” I stated and left the bridge.

I waited in the library for everyone to gather. I knew Opal was angry with me and I knew it would be difficult for her to decide to stay on the ship or to check out this planet. The planet could sustain us, based on all the information we have, but there’s only so much we can get from an android. We have to send expeditions and frankly, I’m tired of this ship. I’d give the people who are here the option to go with me or stay here.

Ansel came in and sat down next to me and asked, “What are you going to say to them?”

“I’ll tell them what we found and let them decide if they want to go or not,” I replied.

“What are you going to do with everyone logged in?” He pressed further.

“I don’t know. They can die for all I care.” I responded.

“You don’t mean that,” Ansel said.

“Why do you care?” I asked Ansel, “You already told me it’s possible to shut everyone’s life supports off and kill their bodies. They would just be downloaded to the Simulation. It’s where they want to be.”

“You’re right. I know how to end everyone on this ship without them ever knowing it but, that’s me. We’re talking about you. I don’t care if you kill them or not. I do wonder if you can handle the guilt that comes from taking life, though. Can you live with yourself? I know there’s evil in the Simulation but we both know that’s not all.” Ansel said.

“There are casualties of every decision,” I responded to Ansel.

“Listen, I’ll support you in whatever decision you make. Kill them or don’t just remember you’re the one who has to live with yourself at the end of the day,” he said.

A silent tension had settled between us when I asked too loudly, “So what do we do then? Just allow anyone to come with us? People like your parents?”

“I don’t know the answer,” said Ansel “maybe ask what everyone else thinks we should do. You don’t have to make every decision by yourself. This affects us all. You’re seriously going to expect people to choose between their loved ones and a planet that may or may not kill us? What about Opal?”

Opal walked in and avoided eye contact with me. I could tell she had been crying. She sat down next to Ansel and said nothing.

“Opal…” I began.

She cut me off, “I have nothing to say to you right now.”

I looked at Ansel who shrugged his shoulders. Everyone else started to file into the library.


Until tomorrow, friends!

first love

I saw you
from a distance,
you were lost in thought.

a familiar feeling
rose in my stomach
as I recalled the
first time you kissed me,
in the shade,
along the banks
of a lazy river,
on a midwest summer afternoon.

I recalled the beautiful
blue eyes
with the long lashes
that lit up
the moment you whispered
I love you
for the first time.

I stood up to say hello
but then…
tiny hands
reached for you
and they called you “daddy”
and those eyes lit up again.

I noticed
the smiling woman beside you
who gave you
the life you wanted
and that I would never give.

I sat back down.
I was happy for you
but I never stopped,
thinking of you
…loving you.

Forgive me, first love
for the ignorance of my youth.
I never knew
that you were amazing.

I haven’t love again
like I had you.

I lament,
recalling all the firsts
I had with you
and all the ways
I was completely wrong for you.

But you have
all that you wanted
and I hope
it’s as amazing
as you are.

I hope she loves you
as I never could
and maybe sometimes,
when you pass the park,
along the lazy river
you think of me.

Not a true daily thought today. I wrote this about a month ago. Still, I hope you enjoy it. Until tomorrow, friends!

miles davis

A singular trumpet plays
with a piano echo
and a stand up bass
moving forward.

I’m in your apartment
in a hazy cloud
left over from the night
staring out the window.

It’s winter in the city,
the snow is falling
on the Detroit River
and the trumpet plays on.

I can still remember
the taste of gin
on your lips.

It was winter then
we danced in socks
because my feet hurt.

I don’t know why
you ever bothered
with multiple drunken kisses.

But Miles Davis
always reminds me
of Detroit
in the winter time,

of a moment
that seemed electric
but was another
tick in a long history.

You still dance
in the periphery
of my mind.

I don’t know
how to evict you
from the space
you occupy.

I was empty then
and I wanted
you to fix it
but that wasn’t fair.

I wasn’t your
problem to repair
and you weren’t
the reason
for my brokenness.

I used to think
we’d meet again
and end this nonsense.

But I was naive then
and I don’t know
if I believe,
in that sort of thing anymore.


These are my thoughts for today. Until tomorrow friends!