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From Katey Sagal’s new memoir “Grace Notes: My Recollections” Amazon | iBooks
Do you ever hope to meet someone and just looking at them is like a breathe of fresh air
He brings out my best self!
Is it ok I miss you?
sometimes I wonder, if you would have come back
had I been different, kept my mouth shut
you never listened, but then, did I talk? Sometimes I think back to your mouth on mine,
Lips light as a feather in the dead of winter
dark hair haloed by the white flurry’s around
your fingers cold in mine
I think of your eyes and how I got lost
I think of the passion I no longer hold
I think of the determination in your eyes
years later I can’t help myself;
I wonder if you think of me, do you miss me too?
-J.H
now I realize I don’t miss you I miss the part of me you took when you left me alone
-J.H
now I realize I don’t miss you I miss the part of me you took when you left me alone
-J.H
Carpet in the Sand
This is an original poem that I wrote about three years ago, right after I graduated from high school.
Salty air ruffles tents and our clothes Our friends lay in the sand on these late July nights. We chat and smoke and fall in love with the stars All our paths intertwining with one another’s again.
And my mind thinks of you and wishes that your’s had never separated from mine.
I become drunk on the song of the waves, imagining your lips muttering “ What a lovely view.”
For J
I'm not asking you to love
To be honest I don't know if I could return the feeling
But if I could ask something of you
I would ask that you pine after me
That you think about me when you look out over the rolling hills as you drive to work
Or that you can still feel my kisses long after I have left you
The way I giggled when your nose touched my neck for the first time
That you swear my perfume is still on your clothes no matter how many times they go through the wash
I want you to sit alone and overhear a conversation and remember something that I said and then you laugh to yourself but get embarrassed because the people who see are judging you and really try to transport me there with you
That sometimes you can feel the ghost of my hand against your palm.
Then it grows and covers the rest of your skin, like an itch that's odd yet comforting
You rub your fingers together, wondering if you're going crazy
And as your day goes by, you notice sexual innuendos in everything, like who many times can a person hears the words " climax" and " erupt" and natural grunts and sighs in an English class and not think about them coming out of my mouth and how good it feels that you're the reason why
That you sit in your car and think about the excitement and fear and warmth and shivers that wouldn't stop expelling from your body as we dove on the highway and you prayed that I wouldn't notice
That you pass by people and places and think that you see me or that you can magic me coming around the corner into your arms but you are not that lucky
That you get jealous whenever you just see a Hispanic woman with another man
That your fist clenched with bitterness and unshed tears because why can't you have that
That you think about getting in your car and driving 3 and a half hours to come to my town and you will find me and spend every moment after in my dorm on my twin bed
Singing hymns and love songs into each other's skin
But then you realize that's way out of line and just end up wondering what color my comforter is
Then you start to look at my Instagram a lot
An unsettling amount and feel gross doing it but…
There's only like three photos and they're old
You hope that I'll post anything just to be sure I'm not a figment of your imagination
That you can see me and hear me and feel me
You find my Facebook that hasn't been touched in months
Other posts with me in them from other peoples accounts from long before you knew me
You wish we'd known each other forever
And sometimes
In those really early hours of the morning when you can't sleep and feel like the only person in the world
You dream while you're awake, you let your mind go far
More than you would ever tell anyone
Things that you would never dare tell anyone, not even me
But ohhhhh
You wish you could
The next spring and summer and autumn and winter all lay at your feet like a Tralfamadorian novel
" No beginning, no middle, no end, no suspense, no moral, no causes, no effects. What we love are the depths of the many marvelous moments seen all at once."
It's all as clear as it ever could be
Laughter, pillow talk, fights, forgiveness, drives, farmers markets, late nights, dive bars, kickbacks, no contact, all day conversations, lust, apocalypses, new days, never-ending light.
Meeting my mother and hoping she’ll like you but I already know it will go bad but you're here to stay and she warms up to you soon
Ifs, whats, yeses, nos, maybes, thens, nevers, always.
All more and more petrifying yet alluring
I'm not asking you to love me
I'm too afraid that it'd scare you off
But I want at least one of these to go through your mind
Because they seem to never leave mine.
Oh, my darling. I know you are not a Cathedral, but you’re no less holy.
- Unused bits from a never-finished book
Tales from fiction writing class
Create a scene using details and imagery to convey a feeling without stating it directly, use like dialog.
"I'm just trying to help you. You ‘re going to go to Hell."
My throat dried out. It felt like those mornings after I had smoked a couple of Menthols 100s the night before while drunk at some bar. My nose was starting to burn as well, like when you're underwater and you breathe in. Caleb seemed to notice my discomfort after a moment.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Just ... I'm sorry."
The lights in the restaurant seemed too bright all of a sudden. The other customers all seemed to be too happy to be real people. Even the glass of water next to me looks too pretty to drink. It's probably from the tap, filled with iron and rust particles. Drinking anything in this place sounded awful.
Silence set in then. My eyes wandered over to the tables that surrounded us. There was a man in a suit with a bolo tie that didn’t like his salad but still eating it. A ceiling fixture on the opposite wall had an overlooked cobweb on it. A woman sitting a bit away wore a pretty summer dress with a pair of black and white Adidas sneakers, looking cute and quirky.
I heard Caleb start to talk again, but I continued to stare at her shoes." I think once you start going to worship with my family you'll really like it. The people there are so welcoming and nice. You know it kinda hurts my feelings that you won't even try to come just once." I wish I was cute and quirky.
The woman noticed me staring at her then and gave me a rude look. I slowly turned my body forward in the chair as my stomach contoured into a painful ball. Caleb was looking away now, but he felt my eyes on him. He took a deep breath and put on a forced smile before looking at me again.
“I got you something." He pulled a red jewelry box out of his pants pocket and slide it over to my side of the table. "Happy six months." The piano music was now very melancholy yet it hadn't changed keys. His hands started shaking a bit. He wanted me to explode into a smile and kiss him passionately, then he’d feel better.
"Uh… here." He reaches over and opens the box. It was a small heart pendant encrusted with three white diamonds. The one that’s super popular with many women right now. The one that his sister had flaunted at me two months ago over dinner and I had pretended to love out of politeness.
I should rub my eyes, but then I'll smear my makeup and it'll get in my contacts and it'll look like I'm crying and I'm not crying.
"Please say something."
“I don't feel well,” a hoarse voice says.
He has a look on his face. One I can't name, but I know it well. The one some old classmates I don't talk to anymore had. The one a street preacher had when he yelled at me for wearing a skirt. It seems a lot of people have this look. An old roommate had it. The cashier at Walmart. My mom.
“You’ll feel better after you eat.”
For you, J
I don’t know why I’ve allowed myself to think about you so much for so long.
I feel pathetic and stupid and starkery.
I hate what I’m doing to myself
I hate that I’ve compared so many people to you
I hate that I feel like I annoy you.
I hate that I thought we could maybe be together but it’s dumb.
I hate that I’m so sad but I have no reason to be sad.
I hate that I have created cathedrals in my mind for you, even after I said I’ll stop.
I hated that when I told you I did, you didn’t understand what I meant.
I hate that only time you ever told me you loved me was when I was sitting on your lap in your car at four in the morning and you didn’t mean it. I’ll say it now though.
I love you.
I hate that I didn’t say it back, even if I wouldn’t have been able to really mean it, but at least I would have meant it more than you.
And I hate that I’ve lost my biggest fantasy.
You have someone new but even if it lasts till tomorrow, I know I still shouldn't try to get you back.
You’ll never read this and I’m glad.
So, my somewhat ex-lover
This is me, signing off.
I started riding the bus on Saturday nights
I started riding the bus on Saturday nights after you left.
When the bus driver asked me where I would get off I told him the mall but I had no intention to. I would just ride around in circles, listening to music, and stare out the window at the buildings bathed in the night light.
I don't know why you affected me so much. I'd like to say it's because I gave you my virginity, but I'd be lying.
Maybe I just like the bus. Being there in the darkest, sitting in the silence, it’s almost felt like meditating.
Oh J
Even when I try to leave
You pull me back.
Perhaps if I was a better poet, you’d like me for.
