Sep 252020
 

“stood on the cliffside screaming “give me a reason”… TSwift

running up the hill turned into a two week race on a flat course, no moving forward, no moving back. we always want something happening never really getting that nothing happening is what it needs to be.

today. after dog tired days of work and still getting a work out in and steps in, and meals logged and articles read. i zipped into an armful of pants long discarded due to my fatness. no greater motivation than that today.

20 lbs down. 10 to go, may turn into 15. i want to be light as a feather, mind and soul.

i hope i never go back there.

Sep 042020
 

it all started with getting caught wolfing down a cup of yogurt at 11pm in the hall in front of my locker at work. i felt ashamed. but i was hungry.

one look in the mirror was enough. one look from Mom and it set the ball rolling. 2 months now and down 16 lbs. want to lose 17 lbs by this sunday and be down 30 lbs by november.

i’ve decided that i want to die (when it’s my time) in good shape. i want to fit into my old jeans and wear nice blouses.

i’ve been fit my whole life but it all went to hell once i hit 50…plus the thyroid cancer and menopause kind of threw a monkey wrench at my health. that and pure laziness, stress eating, and fatigue.

fat, overweight, chunky, husky, plump…. fixable problems. eating well, actually consuming the appropriate serving, and movement- whether it be walking or exercises – aerobic/weight training is necessary to feel better, sleep better and therefore, help with weight-loss.

i just have to do it.

Aug 212020
 

like when you know you’re going to hit the car in front of you but can’t stop…foot on the brake pedal, brain waiting for the crunch…

stay in the present, stay here…even when your mind rushes back on that wave of song that takes you to those awkward days when you wore all black and hated yourself…

but didn’t you know you were beautiful? your soul was clean like a sunday afternoon. your heart was still full of wonder, believing in magic, the look on your face as if you’d just seen God…

and how did you find yourself, sweaty and anxious, mind full of chatter, telling you to, telling you to, until you heard that low calm voice saying no. no train delays today. no pieces on the tracks. no pissed off commuters. no white cloth covering the yes.

could have been a year ago or last month but walking that tightrope never really changes. you dive into colors now but that little black shirt is still in the drawer… it keeps you honest. and you have better balance now.

Jul 182020
 

it’s been dragging me down for a million years. that dread. the worry. so much so that i’m a little unfeeling…or at least better at swallowing that mass of hurt until it dissolves like jello.

it’s impending. the weight loss, the lack of appetite. taste buds on dry. the slow walk and shaky hands. the confirmation of no more tests, no more upkeep by the docs…

what for?

and the travel from hothead brooklyn to spanishtown, where the air smells like red beans and rice and sweet fried plantains, is filled with monkey chatter bouncing from lobe to lobe. radiohead’s melancholy can’t outdo this sad…

i’ve seen it happen too many times. the second life turns to death. i see the lights go out in the eyes, the last breath, the muscle twitches, the ever scarring grief – white hot, raw, real, truth…

how it slips to no more. and what’ll we do with your pots and pans? all the masterpieces on the fridge? and how do i get up in the morning, brush my teeth, and get ready for work?

how do you jump over this grand canyon of loss?

Jul 112020
 

humid, salty long island air. fishing, crabbing… you said he always managed to get pinched by a crab. he seemed to love tempting fate. putting his hands in boiling water to take the egg out… letting the car drive home when he’d had one too many… packing your bags and delivering them to the front porch…

my head on your lap. sleepy. hot. the long drive home on the LIE… you got into a fight with him and got out of the passenger’s side to sit next to me in the back seat. i rested while you traced the side of my sweaty face with your beautiful fingers…

staten island childhood home. with its piano and turbulence. full of arguments and roses, Waterford glasses, and racist comments. i sat back on the lawn chair and closed my eyes. you surprised me with a quick kiss full of affection…and i believed you…

the first six notes, strumming guitar from ten years gone always tug at my heart, my mind, and trigger memories of long dark summer nights in your room.

“did you ever really need somebody, really need them bad?” “did you ever really want somebody, best love you ever had?”

notes and melodies, words, songs, linking us still. linking those molecules still floating residue of us, connected through space, despite time… those moments still exist. searing sun and sharp edges, moments that i can feel. before her, before them. we were…a tragic story that never got a good ending…