-misschloe
#love #loss #beauty #pain
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Monday, December 28, 2009
I find inspiration in the rare things. The vulnerable places.
She has found what we stare at the ceiling and ask God for on the nights we can't sleep.
-misschloe
-misschloe
Saturday, December 26, 2009
I find inspiration in this....
This speaks to me, and I feel like Chloe is looking inside my own heart and put my feelings into words.
Chloe, I am more proud of you than you will ever know! Never stop shining and sharing your love!
misschloe:
walking into my old room is like stepping into the past.
i’m looking at photos, and memories of the life I had a year and half ago - but it feels like it was never mine at all.
let me clarify - that is not meant as a bad thing. i am happier since i last thought i was my happiest. i hope that makes sense. i had a bit of a panic a few weeks ago, wondering if i was chasing after the wrong things. but after talking with my parents, and other people close to me, they helped me believe again that i can’t let someone else’s words erase the assurance i feel about the current path i’m on. they believe in what i’m doing, they support me, and they tell me they’re proud. i’ve never been the kind of person to do things for me, in high school people would ask me what i wanted to do in life and i would say “make my parents proud.” i took a risk, did something for me for the first time, and those people have told me “we’ve never been more proud of you.”
sometimes it all works out.
i love my life. i value each breathe. and though it’s often really, really hard, and it hurts; it’s been better than i imagined my 22nd year would be.
Chloe, I am more proud of you than you will ever know! Never stop shining and sharing your love!
misschloe:
walking into my old room is like stepping into the past.
i’m looking at photos, and memories of the life I had a year and half ago - but it feels like it was never mine at all.
let me clarify - that is not meant as a bad thing. i am happier since i last thought i was my happiest. i hope that makes sense. i had a bit of a panic a few weeks ago, wondering if i was chasing after the wrong things. but after talking with my parents, and other people close to me, they helped me believe again that i can’t let someone else’s words erase the assurance i feel about the current path i’m on. they believe in what i’m doing, they support me, and they tell me they’re proud. i’ve never been the kind of person to do things for me, in high school people would ask me what i wanted to do in life and i would say “make my parents proud.” i took a risk, did something for me for the first time, and those people have told me “we’ve never been more proud of you.”
sometimes it all works out.
i love my life. i value each breathe. and though it’s often really, really hard, and it hurts; it’s been better than i imagined my 22nd year would be.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Status in my life
"And these days I dream too much. And I don't write enough. And these days I'm trying to find God everywhere."
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Monday, October 5, 2009
I am Wholly Yours
All my baggage. All my pain. All my sin: shame, lust, pride, lies, deceit, Judment, selfishness. I’m leaving it here. I’m placing it at your feet. I’m leaving it here. I need your help. I’m going to want to pick it back up. But I know you love me enough! That it’s okay for me to let it go. For me to be free. – Here I am. All of me. Finally. Everything. Wholly. Wholly. Wholly. I am Wholly. Wholly. Wholly. I am Wholly. Wholly. Wholly. Yours. I am Wholly yours.
I can't see...
Anything.
I've lost my glasses.
The ones that were the color of Roses
They made everything
That was fuzzy and
Dark
Beautiful again
I've lost my glasses.
The ones that were the color of Roses
They made everything
That was fuzzy and
Dark
Beautiful again
City Bus
I love riding the city bus. All the sights, smells and germs. More than anything, the stories. Everyone on the bus has a different story. I love to listen to the things they reveal about themselves. Last week I met a woman named Lynn who lives at first Christian towers with her husband Paul. She had gone to the farmers market. To get fresh veggies. She told me that her neighbors are two widowed women who don't go out much. She reaches in to her small napsack. The look on her face is something of beauty. Like a small child reaching into a treasure chest ready to pull out a prize. Out of Lynn's bag comes an egg plant. Because I am not an eggplant connoisseur, I didn't really know what to say. But as I looked up at lynns face I saw something of beauty. A servants heart, full of love and kindness. It taught me a good lesson. Several actually. You should never judge a book by its cover. Just because someone has lived far longer of a life than you, does not mean that they are to be ignored or thrown to the way side, in fact because they have lived far longer, they have the best advice, they've been there, they have raised children who have been there. They have grandchildren who are you, that are there. I almost didn't sit beside Lynn. I was slightly worried that she might. Have worked with radiation. She had a strange sort of beard, which still kinda freaks Me out. But Lynn had a story, and I was glad to hear it. Not everyone on the bus is quite so open, some seem angry when you ask how are you, and how was your day. The woman I sat beside today. I named her Gearldine. She was a fierce African American woman, but also looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had the glazed over I'm here but I'm not could cry at any moment kind of look. I want to take her picture, she looks so strong, but so lost in thought. She pulls the cord, signaling the end of our time together. I change seats. I have a window seat now. And have no seat mate. The couple behind me are arguing at a whispered tone. And though I know I shouldn't I strain to hear. After about a minute. Intense sadness fills my heart. The words, you need to turn yourself in fills my ears. A man pleading with his love to right whatever wrong she has committed. As I try to lose myself in My own thoughts. I hear the buzz of the stop signal. As I glance up, the woman exits the bus. Nothing but kindness and love in her eyes. As she turns to say goodbye I see the desperation I heard in his voice, she is pregnant, and largely so. I wonder where the people go when they leave the bus. I go home, but what about them? What is they're home? |
National Survivors of Suicide Day. Poem : Any Final Thoughts?
I've been working on this poem, or prose rather, for a few weeks now. Today (11/22/) is National Survivors of Suicide Day, and so I finally sat down and finished it.
I wanted to share it with those who have been affected by Suicide, Whether it be a close family member, friend, teacher, or neighbor. I believe that in one way or another we have all been affected by a suicide.
My Uncle commited suicide when I was 11. I did not know the man, I had never met him, and I had never heard many good things about him. My knowledge of him is reduced to a few minute facts. I do remember however, how devesated my father was when he found out.
This is for everyone who has been effected by suicide.
To some it might bring comfort, for others it might not. Just know, that I am thinking of you.
"Any Final Thoughts"
"It is said to take 3 to 5 minutes to die after the heart stops beating.
For the brain to stop functioning, to be "clinically" dead.
I'm a poet, not a doctor,
so for the sake of argument let's say four.
Four minutes from being alive to being dead.
I believe that it those last four minutes; you have a fully functioning mind.
I wonder if your four minutes of final thoughts are influenced by how you die.
I wonder if the man killed in a car accident thinks "I should have taken first street instead of fifth."
or if
the woman who dies of a heart attack thinks in her last moments about the big Mac she had last week,
and if that is what pushed her over the edge.
But I also wonder about the people who intentionally throw they're last four minutes into orbit.
Do they have these same lines of thought?
I believe that no matter how you die,
you spend your last four minutes thinking about the past, present, and future.
I know I can think of a lot of things in four minutes.
Ready?
Set?
Go!
Love - did I love my family enough?
What about my friends?
I wonder if when they read my obituary,
if the first thought in their minds will be
"she sure knew how to love!"
What about my funeral?
Will they play all the songs I want them to?
Amazing because it is, Pass me not oh gentle Savior,
I will follow you into the dark, and when it rains.
Will they play my songs?
Will my headstone be right?
Like Anne Lammott's "she was a helper, and she danced!"
Who will give my epitaph?
Will it be sad?
I want it to be funny.
With lots of fun, crazy stories about me.
And then I think about college.
Clases start soon.
Am I taking to many?
Will I pass them all?
Will I make new friends?
What about the teachers?
Will they be nice?
Easy?
I have a flutter of thoughts.
What should I wear tomorrow?
Should I get my lip pierced?
When will I get married?
Who will I marry?
What was that noise?
Where will I move?
When am I going to travel?
And with those final thoughts
my final four are up.
But what about those who commit suicide?
How do they spend they're final four?
I think they think about the things they've never done,
the things they will never get to do.
Four minutes dedicated to things I've never done.
Been in love.
Gone dancing.
Been to Europe.
Africa.
India.
Paris.
Gotten married.
In Vegas.
Turned 20.
Graduated college.
Had babies.
Published a book.
Taught someone how to read.
Turned 21.
Spoken a foreign language.
Served food to the less fortunate
on
Thanksgiving or Christmas.
Gotten smashing drunk.
Had grandbabies.
I've never done IT.
Any of it.
And to me, just thinking about it could save me from myself.
I wonder if they feel regret.
It makes me think of driver's ed.
The point of no return.
The place where it is to late to stop...
You have to keep going no matter the consequence.
All I know is that in my final four,
my thoughts will include them.
They will be in the list of things I have never done.
Never knew them as they got older.
Never got to sit with them,
on the front porch of the nursing home,
in rockers made for old ladies like us to knit in as we rock.
Never said goodbye.
Never.
Got.
To say.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
You felt.
So alone.
I'm sorry.
I never helped you.
Help.
Yourself.
.
.
.
But then I think.
about the those I have helped.
and while it doesn't make up for you.
While I was thinking about you,
I helped save someone else."
If you or some one you know are contimplating Suicide, Please find someone to talk to. Whether it be a Parent, Teacher, Pastor, or Friend, find someone you can trust, Someone you can share with.
Check out the find help section at TWLOHA.com
or
call 1.800.Suicide
I wanted to share it with those who have been affected by Suicide, Whether it be a close family member, friend, teacher, or neighbor. I believe that in one way or another we have all been affected by a suicide.
My Uncle commited suicide when I was 11. I did not know the man, I had never met him, and I had never heard many good things about him. My knowledge of him is reduced to a few minute facts. I do remember however, how devesated my father was when he found out.
This is for everyone who has been effected by suicide.
To some it might bring comfort, for others it might not. Just know, that I am thinking of you.
"Any Final Thoughts"
"It is said to take 3 to 5 minutes to die after the heart stops beating.
For the brain to stop functioning, to be "clinically" dead.
I'm a poet, not a doctor,
so for the sake of argument let's say four.
Four minutes from being alive to being dead.
I believe that it those last four minutes; you have a fully functioning mind.
I wonder if your four minutes of final thoughts are influenced by how you die.
I wonder if the man killed in a car accident thinks "I should have taken first street instead of fifth."
or if
the woman who dies of a heart attack thinks in her last moments about the big Mac she had last week,
and if that is what pushed her over the edge.
But I also wonder about the people who intentionally throw they're last four minutes into orbit.
Do they have these same lines of thought?
I believe that no matter how you die,
you spend your last four minutes thinking about the past, present, and future.
I know I can think of a lot of things in four minutes.
Ready?
Set?
Go!
Love - did I love my family enough?
What about my friends?
I wonder if when they read my obituary,
if the first thought in their minds will be
"she sure knew how to love!"
What about my funeral?
Will they play all the songs I want them to?
Amazing because it is, Pass me not oh gentle Savior,
I will follow you into the dark, and when it rains.
Will they play my songs?
Will my headstone be right?
Like Anne Lammott's "she was a helper, and she danced!"
Who will give my epitaph?
Will it be sad?
I want it to be funny.
With lots of fun, crazy stories about me.
And then I think about college.
Clases start soon.
Am I taking to many?
Will I pass them all?
Will I make new friends?
What about the teachers?
Will they be nice?
Easy?
I have a flutter of thoughts.
What should I wear tomorrow?
Should I get my lip pierced?
When will I get married?
Who will I marry?
What was that noise?
Where will I move?
When am I going to travel?
And with those final thoughts
my final four are up.
But what about those who commit suicide?
How do they spend they're final four?
I think they think about the things they've never done,
the things they will never get to do.
Four minutes dedicated to things I've never done.
Been in love.
Gone dancing.
Been to Europe.
Africa.
India.
Paris.
Gotten married.
In Vegas.
Turned 20.
Graduated college.
Had babies.
Published a book.
Taught someone how to read.
Turned 21.
Spoken a foreign language.
Served food to the less fortunate
on
Thanksgiving or Christmas.
Gotten smashing drunk.
Had grandbabies.
I've never done IT.
Any of it.
And to me, just thinking about it could save me from myself.
I wonder if they feel regret.
It makes me think of driver's ed.
The point of no return.
The place where it is to late to stop...
You have to keep going no matter the consequence.
All I know is that in my final four,
my thoughts will include them.
They will be in the list of things I have never done.
Never knew them as they got older.
Never got to sit with them,
on the front porch of the nursing home,
in rockers made for old ladies like us to knit in as we rock.
Never said goodbye.
Never.
Got.
To say.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
You felt.
So alone.
I'm sorry.
I never helped you.
Help.
Yourself.
.
.
.
But then I think.
about the those I have helped.
and while it doesn't make up for you.
While I was thinking about you,
I helped save someone else."
If you or some one you know are contimplating Suicide, Please find someone to talk to. Whether it be a Parent, Teacher, Pastor, or Friend, find someone you can trust, Someone you can share with.
Check out the find help section at TWLOHA.com
or
call 1.800.Suicide
More Prose, Less Cons.
What is Love?
Well?
What is it?
I know, - Its corny.
But everyone seems to be an expert now days.
What does it mean to love?
To be loved?
And when I say loved,
I mean
Unconditional.
Without Regret.
More than Boy Meets Girl.
Lust at first sight.
Tingling in my Heart.
Kind of Love.
Pure.
Undefiled.
True to all people.
Kind of Love.
- Show me that Love.
Love that is no Respecter of persons.
Love that knows no bounds.
Love that is Blind.
Blinded by the love by, and for.
It’s People.
Of its one, and only, Created beings.
One of a kind. Like no other.
(There is a REASON no one’s fingerprints are the same.)
Show me that Love.
Love that follows no rules.
Unbiased.
Child-like.
Innocent.
Untainted Love.
Love that doesn’t know.
Where hate doesn’t exist.
Love that sees no:
Black. White. Gay. Straight.
Democrat. Republican.
Christian. Muslim. Buddhist. Mormon. Jewish.
Male. Female.
Guilty. Innocent. Rich. Poor.
Young. Old.
Show me THAT love.
And then, Maybe then.
I will Understand.
My Jesus.
My Patchwork God.
My 19 year old. White Girl. GED Recipient. Southern Baptist turned Non-denominational Christian former atheist.
Homosexual Loving.
Wants to be my FRIEND.
Not my boss.
Jesus.
Fits THAT definition.
THAT description.
Of Love.
And I’m sure,
That if he Can love me.
You won’t have to worry about any kind of Love.
Well?
What is it?
I know, - Its corny.
But everyone seems to be an expert now days.
What does it mean to love?
To be loved?
And when I say loved,
I mean
Unconditional.
Without Regret.
More than Boy Meets Girl.
Lust at first sight.
Tingling in my Heart.
Kind of Love.
Pure.
Undefiled.
True to all people.
Kind of Love.
- Show me that Love.
Love that is no Respecter of persons.
Love that knows no bounds.
Love that is Blind.
Blinded by the love by, and for.
It’s People.
Of its one, and only, Created beings.
One of a kind. Like no other.
(There is a REASON no one’s fingerprints are the same.)
Show me that Love.
Love that follows no rules.
Unbiased.
Child-like.
Innocent.
Untainted Love.
Love that doesn’t know.
Where hate doesn’t exist.
Love that sees no:
Black. White. Gay. Straight.
Democrat. Republican.
Christian. Muslim. Buddhist. Mormon. Jewish.
Male. Female.
Guilty. Innocent. Rich. Poor.
Young. Old.
Show me THAT love.
And then, Maybe then.
I will Understand.
My Jesus.
My Patchwork God.
My 19 year old. White Girl. GED Recipient. Southern Baptist turned Non-denominational Christian former atheist.
Homosexual Loving.
Wants to be my FRIEND.
Not my boss.
Jesus.
Fits THAT definition.
THAT description.
Of Love.
And I’m sure,
That if he Can love me.
You won’t have to worry about any kind of Love.
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