Mamma Your Baby's Gone

She gazes around the empty room

As spotless as it was yesterday afternoon.

Memories from these last years

come flooding back to her ears.

Kids running, laughter echos

bouncing off the walls.

Family dinners, movie nights

late night phone calls.

Sorry Mamma, but your baby's gone.

They've grown up so fast, they've moved along

your heart feels hollow and wrong.

Cry for your son, cry for your daughter

the tears you shed they'll never see.

"But god please," you pray.

"Bring them back to me."

I'm Proud to be a Wisco-American.

So. My life. Ha!
I've basically been just... well not really living, more like just, being, day to day. I haven't made myself someone who stands out in people's memories, nor have I made myself completely invisible. I just feel like I'm one of those people who's just kind of there, but no one really sees. You all know people like that. You recognize their face, but you don't know their name.

I never used to be one of those people. I was one of those kids that people either loved or hated. I can't think of too many people who were just indifferent about me. And honestly, I think there were more people out there who hated me than loved me. But see, I didn't care because I was always surrounded by the ones who loved me. Now, I have neither. Sure, it's great, not having people despise you for no reason. But I don't have that other end of the spectrum either. I'm just kind of.... here. Not doing bad, but not doing good either. I hope that all changes when I get back into an environment where people don't judge me because I'm not from Michigan.

People laugh, or look at me like I'm nuts when I say I'm from Wisconsin. So many other parts of me have died while I'm here, but never that one. I'm PROUD to be a cheesehead, a Packers fan, a "wisconsinite". I mean, just writing this part, I feel this swelling of pure pride and happiness at the fact I can call myself that. People here may make fun of Wisconsin, or not even know where it is, but I don't care. Make fun all you like, but you obviously have never been to Wisconsin. Land of lush fields, cows, and the most beautiful autumn you will ever see in your life. So what if we don't have big name brands based in one of our cities. So what if we don't have movies filmed there, so what if famous people don't come from wisconsin, so what if everyone forgets we're even a state. It's not how people outside of the state remember us, it's how WE remember us.

I lived in Wisconsin up until three months ago. I loved Wisconsin. I loved the evergreens and how they were there no matter where I was. I loved the cows parading around in the fields everywhere we drove. Hell, I even loved the smell (sort of). I loved the way we all got so riled up when I was little about going to the SuperBowl with the infamous Brett Favre on our team. I will admit, I own a cheesehead.


I'm pure Wisconsin, through and through. I know I said Michigan's become a part of me, but honestly, I hope its temporary. Michigan needs to stop spoling my fun.

Gimme One Last Chance

What did I do to deserve this? Can't I love you both equally? Why do I have to choose?

Both of you mean the world to me, and so much more. But now one of you is shutting me out, and you're dragging so many other people down into this. They're my friends too. Don't make them hate me just because I'm friends with her. It's not fair. 

I've cried over this. I've shed tears for this. I have so many fond memories of you, and yes, a few really bad ones. But the good outweighs the bad. I still want you in my life, how come you don't want me in yours?

It's just not fair. I feel like a child being punished for something I didn't do. Guilt by association. Didn't we outlaw that last century? It's cruel and unusual punishment. Wasn't that outlawed when we formed this country??? So why are you doing this to me? It's illegal by political standards. Why not by yours?

Don't kill me slowly like this. I need you too much. My confidant, don't let me down. Don't let me fall into this pool of uncertainty that lays below me, threatening to swallow me up if I so much as twitch. You were always my anchor, the thing that held me here in the real world.

Would you even care if I fell? Do you still love me like you used to? Does my well-being still hold a place in your heart? Do I even mean anything to you anymore?

You still mean so much to me. 

Screams Of Joy, Tears Of Angst

These screams of joy
echo around me.
The silence is shattered
by their reverberating sound.

Tears of angst
silently flow.
The silence unbroken
is almost lonely now.

But just as joy has no bounds
sadness and anger run around
in the gaps and chasms left behind
by the unorganized marathon of joy.

So screams of joy
and tears of angst
will sound within me
for all my days.

Beauty. (Call It Your Salvation I Guess)

Beauty.
It comes in many forms.

Not just in the beauty of one's outer shell, but what's hiding underneath.

Like an MnM. The thin, candy shell might be pretty and all, but the real treat hides underneath. The chocolate. :)

That's like all of us.
Making your outside more beautiful isn't going to make the chocolate inside taste any sweeter. Letting someone discover the chocolate though, is going to make your candy shell seem more appealing.

Now I'm going to be honest. This post is for someone specific, and when she reads it I think she'll know it's for her. So I have this to say:

Don't give up sweetie. There's so many reasons for you to keep going, for you to stay here. I want you here, and so many others do too. I've heard your cries for help and I wish I could be there in person to tell you everything is going to be alright, to tell you I'm here, cry on my shoulder, tell me everything. You let me in so long ago, when life was easier, and I've been with you for so long. We've had our ups and downs, but honestly, life isn't perfect, neither are we. It's the sign that our friendship is as strong as it could be. I love you too much to see you go, and I can think of many people who feel the same as me. So yeah, life isn't always beautiful and perfect, but you've gotta look for the things that make a dark day brighter. Little things. Inspiration. Ignore all those voices that tell you you're not good enough, you aren't smart or pretty or hot or cool enough. What do they know? If they really knew you, they'd know that those things aren't true. You're more than good enough, you're better. You're that and so much more. So damn all those people who say you aren't. Listen to the ones who know you, who know what you have to offer the world. Your words are inspiring, beautiful, and thought-provoking. I want you to keep writing your words to the world. There's so many who haven't gotten a chance to read what you write, what you feel, what you think. Don't let them go uneducated. Don't leave us here hanging by a thread, confused as to why you left us behind.
You have so much going for you. You've got brains, talent, beauty, genuine goodness in your heart. And I'm not just saying these things to make you feel better. I'm telling you the truth. If you can't see yourself like I do, I'm going to make you see. You're so much more than a pretty face, girl, so much more. You just need to see it.

So... Don't go. I love you too much to have you leave me. I don't want a hole in my heart after you're gone. I've never realized how sucky life is without you until I moved, and trust me, it sucks. So when I'm back and we're singing show tunes in our underwear while eating cotton candy, remember how much I love you, and why you should stick around. If you don't want to do it for yourself, do it for me, and all those other people out there who love you just as much as I do.

Remember the Days....?

you know when old friends ask you remember the days when we used to _________________? of course I do, I always reply. How can I forget? I was with you.

Those people I've left behind are people who I can't ever forget. I can't forget a single moment I've had with them, and I hope I'll have so many more memories to never forget.
One of them has changed so drastically I feel like I don't know who she is anymore.
One is on the verge of letting it all go.
One is surprising me every second.
One hasn't changed a bit.

To all of them- so things change, people grow apart, or closer. People do things, stupid things, that affect their lives forever. Some people make themselves better, some destroy themselves in the delusion that they are doing it for the better, or because they can't handle life anymore.
I don't care what your excuse is. You're still my friend, you're still the girl/boy I knew back then when we used to ________________, and to me, you're never going to be any different. I'll never love you less, I'll only love you more. Keep that in mind when you think you can't hold on anymore. There's someone on this earth who loves you more than life, and it would hurt me so badly to see you go. Stick around, for me, for them, for everyone. There's people you haven't had the chance to meet yet who might just remind you why life is beautiful. There's people you've already loved and who love you who can keep reminding you why life is beautiful. Chin up, kid. I love you, and I know you love me.

So how to answer the question "remember the days when we used to ____________________?"

You always reply :
"How can I forget? They've made me who I am."

Funny how cars make me think of you.

So yesterday I was walking from my dorm to the music building in between my two choir concerts and I saw something that made me more homesick than I've ever been. It was a little silver Honda Civic, probably a 2000 or 1999 model. It looked almost exactly like my friend Megan's car back home. That was the car that had so many memories. Morning rides to school, afternoon rides home, blasting music so loud we couldn't hear ourselves think, driving to the park, driving home two minutes before midnight trying to make curfew. Every memory I'd had of that car came flooding back when I laid my eyes on it.
I slowed my pace to a melancholy walk and a song began forming in my head. I started singing out loud, not really paying attention to the words or the melody, but rather, I just let myself sing how I felt. It was the most beautiful and heartfelt song I'd ever sung, and I don't remember a word of it.

Funny how a car made me think of you.