Stuff I've Been Feeling Lately

Dedication

This book is dedicated to anyone who

loves someone struggling

with addiction.

And, as always, to

Mom, Dad, and Michael

side A

the poems

Track One

This is dedicated to the man who saved me.

He didn’t save me from a car wreck;

my existence managed to swerve off the road,

creating a mangled mess even the

Jaws of Life couldn’t tear through.

He didn’t save me from fiery flames.

Quite the contrary, and perhaps

even a bit more frightening, the fire inside

of me had long burned out.

He didn’t save me from drowning,

at least not in the literal sense.

I can swim just fine and still the rip currents

of life took me under, and I began

to flounder in my own tears.

Simply, this is dedicated to the man who saved

me from the biggest catastrophe of all: myself.

Currently Listening To:

Ellie Goulding, How Long Will I Love You?

Track Two

You always want one more day.

You always want one more picture

as the old ones begin to fade.

You always want that one final hug

to have lasted just a tad longer.

You always want the fondness

of the remember-whens

to outnumber the might-have-beens.

You want more years, more months,

more weeks, more days,

more minutes, and more seconds.

You want the happily ever after

you always thought you deserved,

but the only thing actually promised

in this life is uncertainty.

Currently Listening To:

Rod Stewart, Forever Young

Track Three

I   c o m b   through my memories

with more

care than I do my hair.

I’m told the key is to preserve the root.

Still, I have difficulty remembering things.

I recall second natures

in

p

a

r

t

i

a

l

s,

never wholes.

I flip through photo albums

and see my likeness in someone

I can’t manage to recognize anymore,

even when I squint.

She shares my fingerprints.

They tell me it’s me.

It’s as if I am wearing

hand-me-down memories

from a life that doesn’t fit quite right.

They were a gift,

so squeeze into them.

I experience that familiar itch of frustration

as I struggle to name the girl in the photo.

Imagine the anguish felt

by having your very own existence

on the tip of your tongue.

Currently Listening To:

Sara Bareilles, She Used to Be Mine

Track Four

Yeah, she’s beautiful.

Anyone with decent eyesight can tell you that.

That’s not why I love her.

I love her when she is putting on her makeup,

sitting on the bathroom counter.

I love her when she makes me order

the Chinese or pizza

but constantly whispers the order

into my ear because she is convinced

I’ll mess it up.

I love her when we are walking

and she trips over nothing on the sidewalk

and keeps talking, not missing a beat,

like it just didn’t happen.

I love her when we are packing the car

for a trip and she hands me seven bags.

I love her when she is curled up

on our couch wearing my shirt.

I love her after her first sip of coffee

or her last sip of wine.

I love her when she first gets out of the shower

in the summer and I see her vivid tan lines.

I love her when she steals the covers all night

and then, come morning,

blames me for turning on the fan.

I love her when we drive during the holidays,

her feet up on the dashboard,

sipping hot chocolate and

looking at Christmas lights.

Currently Listening To:

Lee Brice, A Woman Like You

Track Five

She jumped from one happiness

to the next. (You’re the only one.)

They made her smile

(You’re beautiful)

until they made her cry

(But I’m not looking to settle down.)

They broke her heart (This isn’t

working anymore,) and her spirit

(But let’s still be friends.)

Over and over again,

she trusted the   f r a g m e n t s

of her soul with others

(I’d never hurt you like he did.)

She