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Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Too Damn Long.....

So-I boasted grandeous plans of posting more and pictures, and NaNoWriMo blah blah blah....well that all went to hell in a handbasket....

Got busy with work, kids, shitty job, and then more shitty job....stopped for a moment for a mini vaca in Schulenburg...I won't be fulfilling the 50,000 for NaNoWriMo.....I will be lucky if I hit a 1/2 point and that's with all night crammers tonight and tomorrow...and a few snuck in lunch times....I just cannot find time and when I do its spent precious and so few....

But I did keep up with one thing and that's this challenge my Aunt Carolyn had me do on Facebook....try and post something new each day of November you are thankful for in your life.....

I thought I would share the days until thus far...some are short, some are sweet, some are wtf-shake-your-head reading, but fun nonetheless.

Here it goes....
Day 1: I'm alive today
Day 2: my kids make me a better human being...
Day 3: I woke up and he's still here for another day of my crap :)

Day 4: All the friends old and new who still are my friends. The ones where 10 years go by and we run into each other, its as if no time has passed. The ones where you make memories not moments. The ones who love you for the all the people you've been. Who support your decisions enough to hold your hand....and wack you with it when you jump off that bridge. Who may judge you sometimes but only because they know you can do better. Because they believe in you even when you do not believe in yourself. Who enrich my life and make me better because of their presence in it. Even from across the nation or the world. Because they are them and I am me. And I would not have it any other way.

Day 5: My mother and sister. Without a doubt for the strength and perseverance I have watched in my mother over the years even when burying the bodies would have been easier...and my sister whose craziness and neurosis is just as acute as ours just in a cuter package...and for holding my hand with Max even if it scarred her for life. I love you both even when I don't want to- its impossible not to.

Day 6: for the two men in my life called dad. One because we share DNA and I still don't hold that against him. even with all his flaws as a lousy husband and type A control freak, he loves me in his own way and isn't too bad a dad. The two because he makes up for where the other lacks, bc his love doesn't come with conditions or judgement. And most of all bc he took on the job even when he didn't have to.

Day 7: The job I go to everyday for an endless slew of reasons not the least is which the financial stability I am able to find in this economy. For the sanity of knowing I am contributing to something, and not acting as another oxygen thief this nation has enough of. Because my parents instilled me a work ethic I take pride in, and I may be at the bottom of the totem pole, I may drone away until my hands are crippled from typing, and someday I might be thrown away once I have served my purpose. But today I am going to work my ass off 110% because its what is right, and because my children will respect me more tomorrow for it. And I respect myself more if even only for today.

Day 8: My creativity I inherited from my father. Strangely, it may also be the source of my hightened sensitivity, and inability to focus on one thing at one time, but also the main source of my existence and what kept me going even when I have wanted to throw in the towel. From late nights painting, sewing, hot gluing, writing twisted stories to finding the perfect butterflies for those cupcakes I stayed up until 3 am to bake. The fantasies playing out in my head do not always come to fruition, but by God its my own ability to shock the hell out of myself with them that is the wonderment....the phenomenon. That I know my potential and what I am capable of creating and it frightens the shit out of me sometimes bc who can say they have found that??? Lets hope I don't squander it...
Day 9: for my opportunity to play the best role of my life yet: mommy. for the amazing ability to give life to two creatures who make my heart catch in my throat and my breath choke in my chest when I see their faces....the giggles, the smiles, the tears, the sticky fingers poking me in the face, the wailing of that single word that can break me when shouted in fear or pain....their faith and b...elief that I am some super caped avenger whose PB&J and cache of bandaids will heal all problems...the fact that watching Cars for the 3rd time in a day or reading the same book every night of the week is a rush that no drug can give because those things are the entire world to the little person snuggled in my lap....that they do not realize the magnitude of how their love has completed me as a person. that having them in my life isn't just better for them, but for me because it made me human in a way I cannot explain..that the life that came spilling out of me has given me purpose in my life I never had before and that I know I will never be the best they deserve....but they love me anyway.
Day 10: Only fitting since its the birthday of the Marine Grandpa retired Col. Edward L. Bale, Jr.

a cantankerous son of a bitch who may not always know whats right even if he thinks he knows..who is never ever ever wrong....and sometimes can forget its 2011 and not 1950 and not in a senile dementia or Alzheimer's kinda way....who can be unfair and unequal in who he spoils or takes up... for and you never know who it will be except that it is never you...who constantly nags because in some twisted way he thinks this will make us all see the potential he sees in us, and perform better than the half ass job we are doing now...who despite this taught me how to play poker using salami and Danish sugar cookies.....who would take us to Baskin Robbins for "lunch" and not tell Grandma.....who was able to give my sister and I the opportunity to see some of the most amazing places the good ole U.S.A. has to offer when others don't ever leave their hometown....who has this amazing weakness for my two kiddos and the melted chocolate in their pockets is proof....who is hip enough to keep up with the technological advances of our time when I'm still working on my 30gb classic ipod.....who is stoic when taking care of my grandma even if she doesn't always remember who he is or where she is..who has lived long enough to be able to tell my daughter about Prohibition, the Depression....all these things he experienced first hand, an experience my daughter will never get from any text book...because without him I wouldn't have the awesome mom I have now with warts and all....who served his country not because he had to, but because he wanted to in WWII, Korea and Vietnam.....and because he doesn't look a day over 75 and can still kick our asses if we need a kicking!
Day 11: to be an American. to live in a country where the freedoms afforded me exponentially enrich my life, and allow me to express who I am as well as live my life as I see fit without persecution. to live in a democracy when even when we make the mistake of voting a moron for president there is the hope and comfort that in the next election we can do better. to live in a country where my religion, my beliefs, my thoughts, my lifestyle is not dictated by a tyrant. where I am fortunate to have a job, a roof over my head, pink flamingos and a cross in my own damn yard. where we all have the ability to achieve what we want and social classes are not restricted by birth or lineage. where a beggar on the street could have been a Vanderbilt, and the family behind that gate once lived in a shelter...nothing is without its flaws, but in comparison to the alternative, I am pretty damn excited and proud to check that box of U.S.A. as my if only more Americans would take the time to appreciate what they have earned in their life instead of what they haven't been handed out...
Day 12: respect I now demand for myself. the worth I now realize I possess bc I reclaimed it and will never let someone steal again. no amount of vicious words, fists or broken faces and bruised hearts will make me powerless again. my voice is louder and I'm not running but standing my ground, blood and all, yelling out that I AM HERE GODDAMN IT in the place I made and not the one you forced me into. What now, bitch?
Day 13: Chester, Lady, Clarence, Sugar, the original Zeebo, Timothy, Taz, Goldie, Penny, Alpo, Mouse, Boots, FGB aka Foggy Bottom, TW aka Tiger Woods, and Tinker....and scores of other smaller rodents, fish, frogs, and animals my sister and I dragged home to feed, love and otherwise unknowingly terrorize when dressing in doll clothes, pushing in a pram. who were faithful companions offering their... unconditional love and friendship when other children might not. the soft touch of a paw, a wet nuzzle of nose, the way they could sense when we had a bad day, and settle themselves in just the right spot that we lost our sorrow in them and inevitably did not want to move from our spot...most time because they were draped across our lap...who didn't mind letting two little girls ride on their backs, carry them around the yard in a bonnet, tease with a cord of elastic with a bell attached...each one had a distinct personality that set them apart, and that only made us love them that much more....because I have known better furry companions than people, and they offered me love and solace at times when no one else could...because sadly this "family" forged is not protected, they have no voice and no rights in a world where they are abused, tortured, neglected, and tossed away like trash...most times quite literally.... because today it makes me appreciate and love even more the annoying strands of hair left on my pants and shirt, the chewed slippers, and little rodents left on my porch reminders of some thing more important than myself...
Day 14: for my soul and conscience. because even in all the years I chose to make horribly ignorant or destructive decisions, I knew the difference between right and wrong...because I may curse, scream, and be judgmental, and as a general rule do not make friends easily...because I not only hurt myself, but others and to this day not a day goes by where I do not recount my sins, and recgonize wha...t I have done wrong...because all and I still know I am a good person...maybe with misguided intentions at times, and maybe wrapped in a pretty bitter, angry ball of resentment, but I would give my last $20 to the man on the corner if I hadn't already given it to my Shark and Hammer...because I am a fierce friend even when those friends are not.... because I give 110% no matter what even when I know the outcome is failure....because I never knew I had one until I lost it
Day 15: the dollar I have in my pocket. because its a dollar I didn't have yesterday and might not have tomorrow. and for today I know my children will be fed, clothes on their back, and roof over their heads. because it reminds me that you can have it all, and then nothing.....because it keeps me humble and lets me realize the important things in life cannot be bought....and I have to learn to be resilient, and depend on myself because you cannot expect a handout...because I worked my ass off for that dollar and will be damned if someone else will take it. (channeling Buckwheat) because I've got a dollar, I've got a dollar, I've got a dollar, hey, hey, hey.
Day 16: I can sleep tonight because I still don't know your name....because I cannot put a face to a name or a name to face I do not know and it makes it easier for me to live with myself...because when you stepped in front of my car you irrevocably reversed the course of my life and yours. because no matter how much I blamed myself, it was your ignorance that put my Charlotte at risk, that shake...d my foundation and my faith in humanity....because of you I lost sleepless nights, friends, dignity, and was debilitated from fear for quite some time.....because now I am more aware of my surroundings than I ever have been before, and my daughter will remember that day for the rest of her she always holds my hand when we are going through a crosswalk and never until we are supposed to....because I am here and you are not....because I am not sorry I do not know your name because it makes it easier for me to get up in the morning....
Day 17: the little patience I try me the serenity to accept the changes I cannot change even though it doesn't dampen my ability to want to slap some people silly and then for making my hand hurt. for being able to withstand those meltdown on the toy aisle or at the mall or at least until be able to nod and smile at them when they just got down gossiping.the sigh I heave bc he isn't worth it.
Day 18: that my children look nothing like me because they are BEAUTIFUL...the way they each have a distinctive grin and the mischieviousness in their eyes....the cute little freckles they share on the bottom of their left foot.....the endless blue of eyes that look at me with welling tears when they feel defeated drowns me....the soft strands of blonde that shine like gold in the summertime....I am blessed to have given birth to such breathtaking creatures...because I am forever in I don't have to tie a porkchop around their necks to get the dog to play with them...
Day 19: my heart is still beating....means I'm here for another day....far better cry than 11 years ago when I couldn't decide or care enough if I was coming or going...because I have something to wake up for today if even only for today and is wonderful. I am more lucky than I deserve and I'm going to enjoy this moment now.
Day 20: the written word...and I'm not talking about the Bible...the written English language I devour in books, newspapers, blogs, plastered fliers to my car....I am a ravenous reader, and cannot imagine my life without books...blessed with parents who were able to give me the greatest gift a parent can, an exemplary educational foundation to build and grow expand by self-education and ignite a fire in me, in my head that can only be extinguished by the words flowing from my pen or computer...with those first few words, they opened my eyes, my mind and my heart with a book..
Day 21: that I still remember who I am, and who the person laying next to me, my kids, the porter in the parking lot.... that I don't know half the strength it would take to cope with losing my mind...the information I have stored, the memories, the books I haven't yet gotten the chance to write, lost...that I cannot imagine pieces of my past, present and future slipping through my finger tips an...d as I chase after them they are lost in a dense fog that consumes me and weights me be lost and not found. and the only thing comforting is I won't be terrified of what is going on because I won't remember? I penned a ode to those out there who care for these lost people I may one day become, but for today am not...


Blackened night brings her hands
Reaching out, across the smoothened comforter,
Clutching, grasping, no words, just her hands
And I take her frail hand in mine
Take her heart and hold it, praying the flutter will not stop
Not today, that today brings dinner in the dining hall
And 3 cans of Boost, Liliana and the 5’0 clock news
One pill, two pill, and here one more,
She looks at me, empty eyes and I stare back,
Praying, holding out hope there will be someone staring back
No one, no one to talk to you about children or grandchildren,
No one to sip coffee and muddle over the news,
No one to care if I am here or not, 58 years gone, never existed
Just those goddamn hands…
And the flutter of her heart
Day 22: for the holidays...for the spirit of the season that is so infectious you'd have to live under a rock to not experience it....the smells, the sounds, the lights....the warm cups of cocoa as we ride around looking at Christmas lights....the search for the perfect tree...the endless hours your mother spends agonizing over how this years turkey could have been better....the faces of family w...ho are family by choice, not blood, who make this year more hopeful because they are still there....the hours spent laughing and reliving the most asinine stories that for some reason are funnier when you're all together...the impatience of little hands as each day they open that Advent calendar, no matter how many times they have done this it never gets old....the kisses that leave Mary Kay pink outlines on your cheeks and cheek pinching until you think your face will fall off...and your daughter and son find hilarious because you are almost 30..the old man who falls asleep in the most comfortable chair under the guise of "watching the game"...only he cannot tell you who played, who won.....the quest to create or find that perfect gift...that one thing no matter how small or inexpensive that will light up someone's face and day when they unwrap it...which is one of your favorite things about the holidays because of all the ideas you have to make the gifts as beautiful on the outside as they are on the inside....the fact that above all that this time of year brings new hope, new life, new beginnings...that we all have something wonderful no matter if we cannot see it....and above else, we are not alone
Day 23: for the pesky little thump thump clanging against my rib cage...because even with all the ice I have had to chisel away over the years, I know its still warm to the touch...its this bruised and battered reminder I am still human...that I still am a good person even when in doubt..that I still have a soul, that there is still a part of me that cares about others exponentially more than mys...elf, and sometimes this is my downfall....I want to save the world and do not have enough time or money I settle for $5 for the homeless man freezing his ass off at my corner...or its makes me ache for the little girl who struggles with reading, and we slave every night to make it better while she teaches me how to love someone other than myself....a pulsing, calming force when the little boy whose scribbles in crayon on the kitchen wall, and need to stuff the cat in the closet and shut the door or flush all the toilet paper down the commode, and I can laugh, smile and then grab the paper towels and plunger. the force that reminds me that although there is the husband whose ass I sometimes want to shove off the couch, I still make sure he eats a balanced meal, and cut the crusts off his bread, and snuggle our feet at heart that lets me know its the right thing to lend a ear and listen when sometimes my sister just needs to have a psychotic meltdown or cry or laugh hysterically from sleep deprivation and too much cafffeine...because she has done the same for me....its this vital, living part of my body that with every resounding clang reminds me I am here, I have a purpose even when I don't know what
Day 24: I'm fat...its a sign I eat well, that I'm prosperous enough to never go hungry...and that the food I eat is rich with flavor and love...(And I have a self-control issue I'm working on )..that I love to cook bc its one way to express my love for others. And I learned from the best:Mom
Day 25: its my birthday-a day all about me, a day where my mom spoils me with my favorite meal, my husband takes over domestic duties and my kids make me cool coupon books and drawings on the living room wall. One day where the lil world I live in revolves around me-who doesn't like that?
Day 26: my stepson Hayden...who is a amazingly generous and kind hearted person...despite his genetics and who welcomed me, charlotte and the maxx with open arms.whose brief time with us makes our year. A piece of our puzzle that we aren't complete without...
Day 27: that no matter the error or mistake I make there is the power to fix it...the reality and comfort its never too late and the damage done is reversable.....most of the may get messy and it may leave a sour taste in my mouth, but I can try...I can hope.
Day 28: today...just because its Monday, and I get to drag my tired ass to work which I am thankful I have a job and have somewhere to go instead of laying like a bum at home…and that I have a reliable automobile to get me there...that my Shark gets to start a whole new week at school with exciting information and homework followed by a delightful afternoon at dance...Madd Maxx gets to run around and burn off that stored energy as well as work off the turkey he gobbled up all weekend…..that Marcus is that much closer to finishing the semester and a well earned night off cooking for me….(hopefully followed by a post belated birthday foot rub and some wine)….that the cats are toasty in the house lounging around doing the bumming….that it’s the start of a week that is 1 week closer to Christmas….that I am thankful I have the will to throw my self out of bed and hit the ground running because its Monday and I have to…..and that’s worth living for.
aDay 29:  for the life I have lived, the life I am living, and the life I will leave behind when I am gone....every wart and freckle, every scar and bruise, every kiss and hug, every smile and frown, every person I have known, know or knew...every place I traveled, am traveling or plan to travel...every book I have read, the million I am reading, and the ones I have yet to read...the person I was, am and will be....the children I have, the grandchildren I haven't met, and their children who will hear about me...the birth of Charlotte and Max, their first day of school, their last day of college, their wedding days...and the day they spread my ashes....for memories of old ladies' cats in the dryer, baking fudge with my mother while watching Jerry Springer and eating cheese dip, being stabbed in the head by my sister (the real story for those who have heard her "elizabeth was scratching her head"), cross country trips snacking on Danish sugar cookies, fresh tortillas Rosa made at 6 am, Tia's grapefruits, Granny Sybils infamous rhubarb pie, cardboard horses in the backyard, my father collapsing the porch swing we bought...with my mother and him in it, the look Chester had before he fell asleep one last time and the strength it took Mom to bury him, Natalie Burns and I setting firecrackers lit and tossing on her roof, spending endless hours laughing over snotty girls at school, friends like Danielle Watson, Cindy TreviƱo, Megan Shea, Marta Garcia, Anita Garcia Morrish who made my highschool years survivable so I lived one more my hiccups on the road to adulthood complete with trash bag luggage and a middle finger farewell that led to this amazing chapter of my life I am scared and excited about because I don't know where I will be in 29 more years, but I know wherever, whatever, I will surely enjoy the journey.....and know my stepfather will still be cooler and have more FB friends. ha!

Monday, September 19, 2011

Jacked up on Espresso

Haven't posted in a while...and since I have had 3 shots of espresso this morning, I'd thought now was a good a time as any to muse overs some exciting projects/ideas/pipe dreams I have.....

Soon I will be playing around with a new toy...a little older Canon Rebel XTI-I am not conceited or stroking my own ego (ok, maybe a little) when I say I take fabulous photos...with my simple point and shoot and my crappy Blackberry....with this new acquisition I hope to explore and find a new talent within myself and make something of it...if even for just shits and giggles. That being said  I will occasionally post photos and want feedback on the quality to better know my area of expertise...people vs animals etc.

I also have a few new stories I am going to post tomorrow...also want feedback...trying to gear up for NaNoWriMo....its a daunting task, but I welcome it !  Keep checking in with me....

My husband and I had this brainstorm (stemming from marathons of Restaurant Impossible and Bar Rescue) for a creative name for a if only we had enough savings to actually open one....

I have this never ending mommy list I am working on:
school for Max
costumes for Halloween
trip to Schulenburg
But at the top is what made my day today-I bought our tickets for King Tut exhibit at I just have to let the folks know they get Max for the afternoon...

Back to the ole grind I go....Hi-ho Hi-ho off to hell I go......


Rambling Ovaries

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Calling all creative minds....we need your inspiration and enthusiasm

This wonderfully gifted friend emailed me recently (FB messaged-is this synonymous with emailing nowadays?) and shared this with me....some tidbits of information.....he comes from an interestingly diverse background involved in theater etc....factor in his IQ, and ravenous appetite for reading and continuous education....and his breathless artwork involving stained glass...anyway-you get the point. He's a pretty cool dude who has a pretty cool plan.

And this is the plan: radio drama.   Drama may be too specific seeing as how you can branch out in comedy, action, children's theater etc....the list and possibilities are endless, and can range from 10 minutes to 45 minutes.   Just picture it. And if well received enough imagine being able to drive listening to raido theater on your Sirius satellite. (for those of you pretentious enough to buy cars with this feature and actually use it for something other than the bullshit of Howard Stern and monotonous voice of someone on NPR).

The point is it would highly thought provoking and allow a creative outlet and adventure for actors who find it difficult to find work or even for voice actors to branch out...Just being able to write a script that doesn't lag and can fill even just 10 minutes with riveting entertainment would be extraordinary.

Check out this template and article on the phenomena:

And get to writing damnit!!!

Tuesday, August 16, 2011


So this cool coworker in my office suite sent me an email about this nifty thing called NaNoWriMo which is short for National Novel Writing Month.  It's in November, and the goal of the month is to write a novel or writings to total 50,000-there's other details, but its free and intellectually stimulating. Which God knows we could all use....even those who are not intellectuals.

the website will better explain it for those of you who face confusion at the above....who just don't want to screw with my verbal diarrhea.

Some Light Bathroom Reading

I am a book.  A fast paced trashy bodice ripper you find next to the Raisinettes at CVS. Not quite Jackie Collins, but not National Enquirer trash either.  I am not ashamed.  You mind find the enjoyment of reading me on the toilet or tub, but I am too shameful to pick to be seen in a restaurant or work.  Yet I know you wouldn’t resist me in an airport because of the anonymity it provides; you could always leave me for the next one to read. 

            I start out real slow, difficult to get caught up in, a slow page turner, almost grating the way I had this perfect Norman Rockwell childhood complete with puppies and kitties and damn homemade birthday cakes.  Then I turn eleven and you start realize from extreme foreshadowing there will be much to be had from this one; not quiet a waste of $5.99.  Was it the near death experience of becoming borderline hemophiliac or the therapy inducing trauma of catching my father schlepping my mother’s best friend in our house.

Fast-forward through years of passive aggressive typical teenage antics complete with heroin use and cocaine addiction right up to that moment of clarity. A term AA and NA members are familiar with and one of many euphemisms I “borrow” from the steps although I refuse to believe in any of the steps.  Something about eating stale donuts or crappy bagels with even cheaper staler coffee, listening to the wailings and tragedies of degenerate losers is not enlightening.  It makes me humiliated for them. Like sitting in a room with stranger and admitting you were drunk enough to sleep with your brother and cousin is not redeeming. Yeah tell a therapist and your OBGYN so we know if Jr. has a flipper, but don’t sit there thinking you are forgiven for all that.  Shit happens. And we deal with it. But we can never forget and those we did it to won’t either. 

Fast-forward a little more and I get busy. It more ways then one. I start out by cleaning house and getting my act together. Then I guess one of those many proverbial “breaks” from “housecleaning” I get busy.  And end up busy with a newborn, and then a toddler. Busy playing failed housewife, and then bitter divorcee. Busy reinventing myself into eager college student.  Busy working as an eager beaver in corporate America. Only to be knocked down at every turn. And not because I am a minority, but because I am not enough of one.   Busy losing interest and grips on time management and suffering from senioritis when I am only a junior. 

Busy. The book because even faster paced when I rediscover love, and what it means to want sex again.  To live my life sometimes for me, selfish or not, and realize that while I am no saint, it does not make me a horrible person. That my daughter will turn out stubborn and free spirited as me no matter how hard I try.  I realize that while I have had a sad life, a pitiful life, a joyful life, a weird life, it is MY LIFE. And it is this that makes you finish me with a smirk on your face. And what makes you return to CVS to buy another copy to leave next to the toilet at work.

Ashes and Poppies

Chasing me into the depths of hell,
Walls crushing bone, splintering shards
Pierce my lungs as I struggle to breath
Stagnant air poisons the poppies growing along the path
Winding toward my salvation as well as my doom
And they catch fire as the dry air carries the musk of our sins
Defiantly unwilling to stop what we have created
The fire and air consume us and ashes are all that are left.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Don't know what it is about this song....I heard it once, and am obsessed with it. Like seriously could keep it on repeat in the car and still not get tired of it. Her voice is amazingly sanguine...and yet pallid and morose....A raw twangy rockabilly..Forgive me I am at a loss of coherent speech patterns....

But check out her album Blacklisted and Fox Confessor Brings the Flood....Cannot wait to see her live-hopefully this next SXSW.

Anyway-she's worth a mention because just listening to her has helped me move past my block...writer's block that is....So here's to recapturing my former brilliance and vulgarity for that book.


Blackened night brings her hands
Reaching out, across the smoothened comforter,
Clutching, grasping, no words, just her hands
And I take her frail hand in mine
Take her heart and hold it, praying the flutter will not stop
Not today, that today brings dinner in the dining hall
And 3 cans of Boost, Liliana and the 5’0 clock news
One pill, two pill, and here one more,
She looks at me, empty eyes and I stare back,
Praying, holding out hope there will be someone staring back
No one, no one to talk to you about children or grandchildren,
No one to sip coffee and muddle over the news,
No one to care if I am here or not, 58 years gone, never existed
Just those goddamn hands…
And the flutter of her heart.


Ghosts. You see us among the masses. Or you don’t. Some people say or claim this is an exaggeration, that our presence, our existence is not seen, unnoticeable. Yet, we’re out there, floating through life. Just disguised as people. People who don’t have a handle on life. Or rather it has too much of a handle on us.  Present one minute and vanishing the next. The only thing betraying this, a stray hairpin, a misplaced shoe, its mate laying abandoned in the dark recesses of the closet, no doubt, a tube of lipstick melted into the bottom of a handbag.  Faint handprints fading into the sheets, evaporating into the air.  Air. Wisps of succulent perfume, now stale and sickeningly sweet, lingering in the air, creating an outline, airy aspirations, bleeding out, disappearing.  Leaving nothing but sorrow in its place. Hollowed out shells, robotic formations created and controlled by an endless slew of plastic tops. White plastic tops, blaring like sirens, and inside nestled is salvation. Or at least enough to sustain us. Sustain us enough to breathe…Saving us from the catatonic state that plagues us or the endless stream of saline creating a puddle on our blouses. Assuming we have enough will to get dressed . Salvation for evening and salvation for day.   For the benefit of ourselves and them. Pulling us from the bed, hitting the ground running to the shower where we sit rocking because their crying won’t stop, their loving won’t slow down. The endless wants, endless needs, no way to ignore them. Pulling us apart, ripping us into two, no breaking, no slowing as it devours us whole. Mommy mommy mommy. It will never stop.