Crumbled. Broken Apart. Now Silence…Again.

Do you know what it’s like to break a man? To watch through his eyes as his soul rips apart? Do you know what it’s like to speak words that result in the nearly audible sound of the breaking of his heart? To practically be able to reach out and touch a pain that’s so intense it’s nearly palpable? Do you know what it feels like to make a strong man fall to his knees because he cannot bear the hurt you’ve inflicted? To watch him drown in his own tears as he clings desperately to what was his just moments before?

That is what I did to you. Not out of revenge or hatred or ignorance, but for reasons that were not completely grasped, even by me. Reasons that are just as selfish and hateful and shallow and ugly as they are true and inescapable.

And now I sit here in the perpetual silence, remembering every word, every pause, every tear, every movement…every question. You told me you loved me. You said it as though it was a secret, just revealed. But I knew. I’ve always known. You told me you would love me, always. And instead of happiness, those words brought pain and guilt and sadness.

Because the truth appears to me immoveable, unable to be overcome. And this truth that has become so important to me, inscribed in my soul and on my body, is what caused your pain. And the ugliest, most hurtful thing is that it was this same truth that I could not share with you. My greatest failure. One that I will carry with me for a long time to come.

I never said the words out loud, mostly because I was afraid. I realize its too late now, and that those words would only cause you to feel more pain and confusion, but I hope you knew somehow, someway…that I love you. I said those words to you in my head so often… every time we had a moment and you looked into my eyes. Every time I felt understood by you. Every time you kissed me with that intensity and desire that I already miss.

I am so deeply sorry for all the pain I’ve caused… for all the pain that you will continue to endure. I will pray, desperately, for you. For your soul to heal and your pain to lessen. For your tears to stop. For you to be able to sleep at night. That one day I will not be your first or last thought. That the pain I’ve caused will not leave lasting scars. For the holes in your heart and in your wall to be patched up. That the sadness in that space be replaced with happy memories. That you heal… from all the hurt and all the pain that you don’t deserve.

And, that in the end, you find the love that you thought I was. 

This world

I grow so tired of this world…it is grotesque with violence and death.

Each calamity serves as a chilling reminder.

Those who rape and kill are not guilty only of these crimes but also for robbing so many of their innocence.
And so many have been robbed...

The motives are selfish, evil or come from a place that is so unsettling we cannot understand it, much less heal or comprehend it.


Sometimes I wish I was not a part of this world…

In Loving Memory of Emilia Miranda (08/20/1921 - 09/10/2011)

When I was younger I was afraid of my Nana. She always seemed to know when I was planning mischief. It seemed like she always caught me when I was playing where I shouldn't be or getting into something I wasn't supposed to. I can't forget the look on her face as she'd lean down to my level, shake her head at me and say "No mijita, eso no se hace." And while in those moments she was stern and critical, I quickly learned to recognize the smile behind these looks. The older I got and the more I got to know her, the more I respected her. She was a strong woman. Her strength and independence were two of her most beautiful characteristics. She passed that strength on to her daughters. My Nana faced many obstacles in her life, and there were times when she struggled, but because of her faith in God, and because of her strength, she proved that while life isn't always easy, it can be lived, and it can be enjoyed.

The strength I saw in her, and the strength I see in my Mother is a characteristic I pray to have inherited.

And as she aged, each passing year seemed to draw out her sweet side more and more. Every time I'd visit, she was so glad to see me. Every time I spoke to her on the phone, she was so glad to talk to me. I can still hear her voice in my head, each time we would say goodbye over the phone, she would say "Que Dios te vendiga Mija" in a loud voice, sometimes several times, almost like she was afraid she wouldn't get to say it before I hung up.

The very first time I introduced her to my boyfriend, she looked at him and said, "That's my grandson." And she was right.

We spoke on her 90th birthday. I was teasing her when I told her she had to remember to eat all of her food so she could be strong and live to be 100. She laughed at me and told me that 90 years was a long time to live. She told me that she had felt every one of those years and that she was ready to be with the Lord, and with my Tata.

I loved my grandmother. And her love for me was strong and sweet and special. The realization that she won't be there anymore when I call hurts more than I can express.

Goodbye sweet Nana.

The best part of my day

The best part of my day is the last part of my day, and lasts for just a few moments.

It starts when the lights go off - no, not THOSE moments - and we crawl under the covers and you pull me close to you and we're suddenly somehow wrapped up in each other.

I can hear your breath, feel your arms, smell your scent. You're all around me, and in that moment your love engulfs my very soul. I breathe in your love and breathe out all my worries and concerns; peace washes over me.

It's this moment I've looked forward to several times in my day. It's only in the darkness and stillness of this moment that I'm completely at rest, it's then that I know vulnerability; I am utterly yours.

My addiction to you and the way I feel grows stronger every night I spend in your arms, I want nothing to stop it.

I hear your breath growing deeper, slower and the temptation to give in to the peacefulness is strong, but I struggle to stay awake. If only I could stop time and just enjoy this feeling but...my favorite moments are fleeting...

And in the morning when I must leave the comfort of your arms, a twinge of sadness hits me...my favorite moments are once again lost with the rising of the sun and the necessity of life's duties.

So I go about my day, fulfilling the demands of daily life, but all the while waiting again for night to come, for those sweet moments when I'm in your arms once more.

Goodnight my love.

Rapists and Diamonds

You took it from me; I tried so hard
To keep what was mine and expel all else
Twas' not the fear nor the anger, but the sorrow which prevailed

The moment lost in time, the stillness of my heart
Said was everything that needed to be said
And justified was every thought, every feeling once labored over

What will never be forgotten is over now
Leaving in it's wake healing and comfort and still

It was as it should have been,
And their laughter and their voices faded into the night...

¿Cómo llegamos aquí?

A momentary flashback; a blue shirt, a necklace

Your arms reaching for me

A smile; excitement

Its beginning was in that moment; it endures even now

Distance cannot impede it

Heartache cannot quench it

Time only fuels its worth

Como llege aqui?

A refuge in a time of war

A sense of calm in the midst of turmoil

Like dry ground to a drowning man

Or a promise of peace against all odds

Eyes that comfort

Hands that assure

A soul that is clean and healthy and pure

Como llege aqui?

Effort not required, it’s just who you are

Wanted by me

Loved by me

Como llegamos aqui?

Overwhelming

Addicting

Beautiful

Let nothing stop it

The Long Walk Home

She turned her back and walked away, emotion full of pain
The sentiment she could not control, inside she felt such shame
With hurried steps and labored breath, she glanced around in fear
And uninhibited from her eye, there streamed a single tear.

Each passing day, the hurt inside, the pain in every stride
Brought sleepless nights, an unending plight had hurt deep inside
Had hid her smile far beneath; heartache caused from sin
It seemed a wait would be required to mend her heart within.

If only time she could rewind to rid of such regret
And not a soul to there console; this need that was not met
The start which had so long ago, been christened with a song,
Would sadly now be laid to rest, the end a tragic wrong.

A life that did not start

Time stands still, for she long awaits,
To hold him in her arms
With a heavy heart and loving eyes,
She whispers “You are safe from harm”

She watches close as her son is passed,
From family members to friends
They are teary eyed and overcome,
With emotions endless end

Her sorrow overflows her eyes
She only knows too well
He will never see a Christmas eve
No first school day to tell

His tiny mouth won’t say a word
His eyes condemned to night
A stomach ache or fevered cold,
He will never have to fight

Throat now clenched with quivered hand,
A birth certificate she signs
She turns it over, a tightened breath,
Her thoughts lost to her mind

With pain-filled eyes and streaming tears,
She could not bear to see
His death certificate staring cold,
A lost thought, unconceived

Jaden born December 3^rd
His face burned in our hearts
We weep for we will never know,
A life that did not start

Our friends and family with churches pray,
Bellowing voices high
It shakes the ground and quakes the earth,
It overtakes the sky

In heaven, his home now high above
An angel of Gods grace,
Although we know he’s needed there
He will be greatly missed.

T.S.R.
Rest in peace Jaden Struckmeyer. 12/03/07