•February 27, 2012 • 1 Comment

So, here I am. A Tennessee girl alone and adrift in a world I don’t like, don’t trust, don’t fit into and DEFINITELY don’t understand. I got a lot of stuff I got to figure out and it may take a while.  Mainly this is going to be the place where I whine, rationalize, try to explain, muse (although not too much of that, thank you) and wish for things.

Wish along with me….



•April 24, 2013 • 2 Comments

I’m wondering
where the road goes
when I can’t see the road.
I’m wondering
where the time goes
when I don’t know what time it is.
I’m wondering
where the sky begins
when my feet are on the ground.
I was wondering yesterday
and I’m wondering still.

Up at night

•February 21, 2013 • 5 Comments

Here’s what keeps me awake at night.

I have feelings.

Are feelings sexuality?

If they are, what do I do? How do I become what I am? Do I go down to the Lipstick Lounge, throw a Brandi Carlisle record on the jukebox and ask for my union card?

If they aren’t, then what do I do? What does it mean if I just go with the flow?

And why do I still get the flushes whenever boys look at me.

Other things keep me awake at night, too, and they ain’t helping answer these questions. In fact, they just muddy up the water!



Life is sweet.

•February 9, 2013 • 2 Comments

If, at the time, I had access to the internet and actually had a twitter account and you could use more than 140 characters when posting a message, here’s what I would have posted last night:

We’re sitting out by the river at Fort Nashborough, sharing a beer and it’s freezing. I’ve had half a beer and I’m half drunk. M. leans into me. Wraps her arm around mine and puts her head on my shoulder. I breathe in. She smells wonderful and I breathe in again and I feel I don’t have to hide it. Life is sweet.


•January 19, 2013 • 6 Comments

So. I’m hanging out with Melissa, just sitting on some stoop watching a game of pick up ball across the street. Not talking, just sitting close enough to feel the warmth off her.  And she says to me, real quiet “Rose.  I got something to ask you and I may be wrong and if I am I will just die. But I got to ask you” and I’m like “okay. shoot”

“Have you been coming on to me this last little while?”  Real quiet. Not a whisper, but real, real quiet.  I died. It seemed to take forever before I thought of the first dumb thing to say.

“ummmm. Maybe, kinda a little, yeah”

“oh”. More silence. More death. More forever in the gaps

“Well”, she said (more death. more forever)  “don’t stop”.


“just kinda a little, for now”


and then it was eyes back to the game.


I think enough time has passed and there is enough space between us and there is enough privacy in this little blog space for me to say:


Shooting the breeze

•November 17, 2012 • 12 Comments

I’m learning, these days, that once you go forward, you can’t ever really go back. You can go back to places, and situations and circumstances – sure, but if you do you are not going back as the same person.  You can’t even pretend to be the same person, You can’t even WANT to be the same person, no matter how hard you try.

When you go forward, when you change, when you catch hold of a different breeze, people lose some trust in you. I’m noticing it now – folks I have known all my life are just that little more guarded when they start conversation with you, they screen your comments, answers and opinions for anything they need to defend against – any attempt to try and impress your new and otherworldly point of view on them. You being to feel them becoming strangers you, or you to them.  How much of yourself do you give up to stop that happening, or do you just sail the breeze and see where it takes you?

I slept with Melissa on Friday night – nothing, you know, sleep=with happened, we just crashed on the same bed.  She smelled so sweet up close. I hope she thought my sighing was just asthma.

All I Want to Do

•October 13, 2012 • 10 Comments

I thought I would be
more confused than this
and the a louder voice
would tell me it was wrong.

But I am calm, I am clear
and I know my own heart.

And all I want to do is
kiss her.


Rosie, she will.

•September 14, 2012 • 12 Comments

I’m going to China,
taking the downward climb.
You can walk this road
along with me, if only
in my mind.
I stopped by to kiss my enemies –
I gave them a silver rose
They said “where did Golden Rosie go?”
I said “only Golden Rosie knows”

I was walking out
by Elizabeth park.
A voice came to me
from somewhere behind me
on the midnight dark.
It “said are you a consecrated woamn
or are you your father’s whore?”
It was kind of hard to answer
when you are elbow-deep in your own gore.

The Lebanon Turnpike
is a lonesome, lonely road.
I’m digging my way to heaven
far away from my dingy and
dismal abode.
I’m walking slow and swaying,
I have time to kill.
They ask me “When is Rosie coming?”
I said “Rosie comes when Rosie will”.

Skeletons, playing banjoes
rotten corpses playing jaw harps.
The road to bliss is scattered
with discarded rubbers
and needle sharps.
Some of us are broken,
some of us are blind.
One of us is coming
in her own sweet time.

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