Yesterday seemed so sweet. The world was simpler and my decisions were made easier. While I fidgeted with a camera, snapping shots of memories frozen, I dallied with the idea that I could turn back time.

The calendar pages blew softly in the winds of my mind, carrying me back to the year before, and then the year before that. The puzzle pieces were not so small then, and the picture seemed that much clearer. You didn’t exist, and moving further back, neither did he. My heart had not yet been broken and those friendships I lack now were sturdy as trees.

But then I thought back further, searching for the memories I ran to when yesteryear was today. I longed even then for the past, clutching to my chest the poems that defined my youth. What did I think of then, to pull me through the turbulent seas?

The sad truth struck me, jolting me back to here and now. Forever we spend our lives looking back. How do we treasure each moment, when the one before it seems so much sweeter? Who will I be the next time I visit today? With each step forward, I catch myself stealing one glance behind.

I raised the lens to my eye and pressed the click. Best to savor the now, I thought, for on the morrow, it will become the yesterday.



I didn’t have a plan. From the very start, I followed the wind to bring me to new places. I was tickled by the dandelions and graced by the sunflowers. Dancing barefoot under the cloudless sky, I’ve never felt so alive.

I didn’t have a clue, and until the very end, I don’t believe I ever will. Every step in stride leads me closer to perfection and further from the chaotic magnitude of your sullen devices. This too shall pass, and so I too must carry on.

I never asked for much. My needs are as they’ve always been; a place to call my own; a locale just for me. I’m much too large to be kept in here, confined by each suffocated note blaring from your old school radio.

I never followed the rules. Or the path. I wandered off course and questioned every lesson the great Book taught. If it condemns me, so be it. I’d rather embrace all that’s meant to be endured with my own version of truth. Your light simply wasn’t bright enough for me.

I always knew I’d make it to the edge and back again. What was offered on silver platters spoiled my appetite and churned the bile. I make my own way. I govern my own indoctrinations. This life is mine, and when I began it, I left the rulebook and the maps behind.

Own It

She told me to own it.

Own it? I asked.

Yes. Own it.

You’re angry, and you have a right to be. How many times have you been hurt in the past? How often have you been betrayed? Those you love and care about have taken your trust and used it to suit their own needs. They won’t budge. They will never apologize. They don’t even realize they’ve done you wrong.

What is the definition of family? I bet you don’t even know. What is the definition of love, or trust? You have yet to find out. You’ve endured a lifetime of broken promises and vacant lies, held in place by those you call your friends. It’s time to go and find new ones.

Stop asking for so much, if you know you’ll only be disappointed. Lower your expectations. No one can provide your happiness but you. This is your life, and you need to take charge of it. This pain that you feel- this is your story. It’s a part of who you are. It makes you, you. Use it to your advantage and turn it into something good. Make it your strength. Make it worth your while. You need to own it.

But, I told her, I already have.

Well then, she replied, what’s the problem?