i'll let you know when i get there

Girls like us all cut our hair.  You could strike a match off of those new-found cheek bones.  You could drop a quarter down those eyes and never hear it hit bottom. Girls like us, we all cut our hair.  We're all the same.  You can find us anywhere and our worlds are always entirely brand-new.  We've all got some quirk or need or fragile point of view.  Some animal or affinity for fine wine.  Accidentally independent and asking without asking. And we'll grow it back eventually.  Out of rebellion or defeat or some holy combination.  We'll grow it back to disappear into.  Grow it back  when it's not good enough to be ourselves anymore.  Grow it back so there's more to play with, more to tease, more to pull when he doesn't seem to see you anymore.  It will be a long, drawn out resignation and, in the end, a victory. Girls like us all cut our hair.  You can look for it like a marker.  Some flag of readiness. ...

Then- Feet intertwined under sheets A desperate plea Reading, half clothed, in the living room An embrace, a racing heart, a release Caves The green light and misplaced longing Now- A glimmer and a glean Halls full of adulation, hours full of purpose Long walks home Mouth full of drought Lost weight Found strength There is no shortage But there is still that loss Then- A gallery of Places you are not Europe again, but through a lens A face on the border of your special day Paid More and more and less and less

Bare limbs and a cold wind howl. A winter vacancy. In a land covered in seeds Branches still reach for old leaves.

S:  So, I just found out that our groom today is the brother of Bradley Nowell. me:  I don't know who that is. S:  The lead singer of Sublime. me:  Oh, so he'll probably be here. S:  No.  He's dead.

I go walking After midnight Lord knows what I'm searching for But it's not where I left In my bed In my head And the stillness doesn't stick, Not yet.

As of today, I'm four hours stronger.  Which means I've taken 4 hour-long classes at Barre Releve.  Which means I have spent four hours staring at my body making awkward, ungraceful shapes in the mirror.  Four hours of frantic motion in absolute disbelief that I am that person in the mirror. How did it happen? I have an immense capacity for incredible fidelity to illusion.  Maybe it's my religious background.  My imagination.  My parents' divorce.  Who knows, but I tend to believe the BEST about myself and others until it becomes undeniably false.  In my mind, I was only a few 20 minute work-outs away from the racquetball shape I rocked in undergrad.  In my mind, the fact that none of my pants from a year and a half ago fit was just some accident of the laundry or a big dinner. But being forced to look at myself for an hour- lost like a chubby buoy in a sea of other bodies in yoga pants- made it impossible to deny that the best self I ...