A day in the life of an asphalt cowgirl

You never think you’re going to have to say goodbye to someone you love. We have this idea suck in our heads that our loved ones are going to live forever. That is until you get that phone call. That dreaded phone call. Within that minute your whole world falls to pieces. He’s gone. Forever. you’re never going to hear his voice again. you’re never going to feel his warm hand in yours again. You feel like you have no right to go on. If he’s gone why should you be here. But you must. You have to keep going on. The next days go by in a sad blur. They’re filled with pain and tears. You contemplate suicide. You curse god. You yell you scream you collapse. You collapse to the ground there is nowhere else to go. Nothing ever makes it better and nothing ever will.

The sun is beating down on my face. Beads of perspiration slowly make their way down my face from my forehead. Bolts of sharp pain shoot up my back, it feels as though we have been sitting here for hours, though I know it has only been an hour at most. The boat is rocking back and forth in the middle of the lake as if it’s trying to rock us to sleep. In my hands is the splintered and warm from the sun wooden handle of an old fishing rod from yesteryear. You always insist on using those, since your grandfather gave them to you when you were just a small child. There is so much energy inside me that I feel that I am about to burst. I start rambling on and on about pointless gossip and the latest news, but you harshly shush me, because apparently I am going to scare away the fish. With an attitude I deeply sigh and quiet down. I take in the scenery around me. All I can see is water for miles and miles, clean and refreshing. I don’t know how many times we have spent hours out here fishing...

What does one do when it feels as if their world is falling to pieces.  When they can’t go a day without breaking down.  What should one do when they no longer see the value of their own life.  When their life seems so meaningless.  But the lives of others so meaningful.  What does one do when they live through other people.  They live to see the smile upon another’s face.  They live to see others succeed.  While they, themselves, are drowning.  But no one will ever see this side of them, but, how could they?  This person is the best at hiding their true selves.  No one will truly know them.  They are elusive creatures of the night.  They hide and camouflage themselves.  They don’t want others to see them in their true forms.  They view themselves as broken little monsters.  As outcasts of society.  They think that no one could possibly comprehend what they have been through.  An...

I need some more whiskey than a coke. A strong hand and a gentle touch. A little tummy and a lot less attitude. Maybe a beard, Connected to lips that would connect perfectly to mine. Hardworking like my daddy. Old worn boots that step on the gas of a jacked up Ford. Rolling down a dirt road in the middle of a memory listening to some Hank.

Hey Y'all! This is my first attempt at a blog. I love to write short stories and poetry. I try to draw from my own personal life for these pieces. That's the majority of what I intend to post on here. I would love to share pieces of me with y'all. I am also an amateur photographer and from time to time will post photos that are special to me or have meaning. This blog is not meant to have any hidden agendas other than to share my works and hope people connect.So, if you don't mind, go ahead and click subscribe. I hope y'all enjoy! Thanks!