for the first time

I want to know you again
know the sound your footfalls make
know the feel of your hand on my face
I want to lean on your chest
and listen to your heart dance
understand the tears that fall from your eyes
and cry them too
I want to remember your laugh
the one that tingles my ear as it moves the air

this place is empty with out you
haunting echo's in a bare room
I still rise every morning, shower every night
but in between the silence haunts me.
tapping on my shoulder to remind me...

I can't pretend that these questions don't exsist
that the lies don't still haunt my sleep
but I don't want to live here anymore

I don't want to go back to the way we were
to return would be an injustice to both of us
but I don't want to live here anymore

you broke the rose colored glasses
don't leave me to cut myself on the sharp edges
wake me up and tell me this doesn't end here
wake me up and wrap me in your embrace

I don't care if you come with flowers or answers or a history
just come. I was wrong. Please come

I want to know you again, maybe for the first time

Carrot Juice and other scarry words

I discovered this week I actually kinda like carrot juice. Its not all that random when you add up the recent add ins to my favorites list. Mustard, Mushrooms, Chai Lattes, natural cheetos. But still , its a little up there on the strange scale. I tried it fresh in NZ. My first thought was quite possibly the same as yours....oh my. But by the end of the glass....interesting. So I found my new favorite people, bolthouse farms. And of their many offerings, you guessed it, 100% carrot juice is one of them. Its kinda like the first time someone hands you the weird gooey kids toy. At first it's just gross, but after a while it's kinda cool. Yeah, thats it.
And the other scary word....'send'. Its a mild word. You probably use it every day with out even knowing it's hidden power. I submitted one of my stories for publications today. I double checked the address, the guidelines, the subject line. I even doubled checked to make sure the story really was attached. The story itself has been gone over with a small tooth comb and then some. But still, I sat staring at that one little word...send. Knowing the power this little word held as it sat mocking me. Would it hold 6 weeks of mind numbing waiting, or maybe only 3. Would it return happy news, or a try again later.
I decided there was only once response. I beat it into submission and am going home to have some carrot juice.