Emptying You’re Bowl

I once heard a great metaphor.

You’re mind is like a bowl.
It has a limited amount of space.
If you try to cram too much into it,
It will overflow,
You might lose important memories.
Each night you must pour some out.
This way you chose what to lose.

This parallels the science.
You’re brain,
An amazing organ,
Does this every night
While you sleep.

So, dont worry you have forgotten,
Minor things that occured,
It just means your bowl still has room,
For the important memories.


As I lay awake last night thinking of a legal issue I was trying to solve for a class assignment, I realized that I wouldn’t understand it until I slept on it. This idea I read in a book once came to mind. I realized that after reading a half dozen cases I had too many ideas on how it all fits. I hoped that when I slept on it, my brain would organize it for me and clarity would come in the morning. Here’s to hoping I was right. 



My bunnies. The big one was made by grandmother. I may or may not have snuck it out of her house to prevent family members from being jealous she gave it to me.

I’m six years old
Sitting on my bed
Head turned towards the window.

A flower bed runs along the side of our house.
The plants have begun to wilt.
Fall has started.

It’s the perfect time of year.
My breath has started to fog the window.
Everything looks bare and beautiful.

The bunnies have come back.
They sit and eat the dead grass.
They search for fallen seeds.

I watch them.
They seem content, happy, and carefree.
No worries other than what to eat next.

My parents were probably arguing at that age.
They would divorce a few years later.
I don’t remember that though.

But I remember watching the bunnies.
I remember wishing I could join them.
Like the human version of the Velvetine Rabbit.

I’m 22 sitting in my apartment.
Various bunnie figuines are here.
There are none to see outside my window now.

I went to the gardens last week,
I saw bunnies there.
I smiled and stoped to watch them frolick.

Missing You

I saw a picture of you today. 

We were sitting outside your therapists office. 

I wish the me taking the picture knew how bad it really was.

I thought you were mostly fine. 

Instead you were just pretending. 
I remember hearing that I had missed you. 

You came to the weekly meeting. 

It just happened to be the one I missed. 

You would never return. 
The selfish side of me wishes you had told me you were back.

The wishful side thinks I could have stopped it. 

The truthful side knows you didn’t seek anyone out for a reason. 

You said good bye to those who crossed your path, not everyone who mattered. 
I wish I could call you. 

I’d tell you I made it to law school. 

I’d tell you I have no idea how to date. 

I’d tell you I love you.
I used to be uncomfortable with those words. 

I didn’t say them to anyone, even long-time friends. 

I’ve overcome that now. 

I love you, I miss you. 
Your mom reaches out to me periodically. 

I think she thinks I was the last person to have a real connection.

Or maybe that my success reflects what yours would have been. 

I still don’t know how to talk to her. 
I think it’s my fault. 

I know it’s not. 

I want to blame someone. 

I know there is no one to blame. 
Your death was the last straw. 

I can’t talk to God anymore. 

He let you suffer, he placed me into your path,

And I couldn’t stop it. 
It’s not your fault though,

He and I have always been on shaky ground. 

With so much bad,

It’s hard to see Him. 
He might be there,

But if he is,

He’s ambivalent,

He lets us chose our paths. 
I hope wherever you are,

You’re better,

I hope the pain stopped,

I hope you found peace. 
I miss you,

I love you,

I remember you. 

It’s been two years since my best friend committed suicide. I had started this blog with her. I stopped posting somewhere in the past year. Between missing her and the stress of law school, it just slipped through the cracks. Some person randomly followed me a week ago. I remembered how much I like posting. And then I saw a picture of her. Just a girl playing a silly game in a therapists office. And it all came rushing back. The photo kept reappearing throughout the day. I almost sent a message to her mom, but it sounded like I wanted her to make me feel better. I’ve never wanted that from her, I’ve wanted to make her feel better even if I can’t fix it. So I couldn’t send it. Then I remembered posting. So here’s my poem. I don’t think it really is one until about halfway through, but I’m rusty. All this legal writing has me screwed up. Hopefully this is the start of something old. 🙂 
P.S. I’m totally writing this while sitting in my car outside my apartment complex. I’m such a weirdo. 

Memories are like Daggers


It’s been almost a year since you passed away. I still think of you everyday. I graduated a few months ago and couldn’t face a big commencement ceremony. I told everyone it was because I didn’t like the grandness, that it’s silly to celebrate in such an elaborate way. In reality I couldn’t help but think that you should be there. I couldn’t face going without you. After all who else was going to sit and mock all the other people with me. In a group of hundreds of graduates, I would have been alone and thinking of you. So I didn’t go.

Then today, like so many other days you popped up in my memories on Facebook. At least it wasn’t a photo. But it’s hard to imagine that it has been 3 years since we got lost going to dinner and then stuck in a rain storm. We had so much fun that night.

I wish you were here now. That we could have helped you through what you were going through. I still wonder how different things would have turned out if I had been there that day you visited. Would you have simply been saying good bye, or would you have asked me for help. But that isn’t what happened. We didn’t get to see each other. I heard you were there and then I heard you were gone. Some part of me resents that you didn’t try to call me when I wasn’t there. You saw so many others and yet I missed you.

I still haven’t been to talk to your mom. I was going to write a letter. I was going to go to dinner before I left. I was going to do a lot of things. But I just couldn’t. So I just left. Maybe now, with no possibility of having to be there in person I can write that letter. After all, for that short year and a half your house was like a second home. But without you I just feel like I would be an impostor if I went there. I’m slowly learning to be okay with your passing. I hope you’re in a better place.

Hindsight is 20/20

4 years ago
I sat on a football field
In a blue gown with a gold tassel.

People say that
They didn’t know then
Where their life would take them.

I think they are lying,
Not only to others,
But to themselves.

4 years ago I was pretending,
Pretending I wasn’t meant
To go to Law School.

Pretending that I would
Become the next big
Historian, archaeologist, or anthropologist.

Pretending that I would change history,
Not through action,
But through research.

I was pretending
That I wasn’t afraid,
That I was on the right path.

But even then I knew,
Knew that I was meant for action,
Knew that I wanted to help people.

I knew that Law School
Was where I am meant to be,
That I want to make a difference.

Even if that difference is helping,
Just one person,
Through their problems.

Now I plan to be
Some grand Tribal Lawyer,
To be the white person, fighting for the Indians.

But I know
That I have no idea where I’ll land
I like other forms of law too.

I also know,
That trying to push my way in where I’m not wanted
Won’t work out.

In the end,
I know I won’t be this new grand dream,
But hopefully, I’ll still be grand.

So, 4 years ago I told the world,
I would be in grad school,
I told myself I would be in law school.

Don’t let yourself hide,
Embrace the dream,
No matter how terrifying. 

Thinking of You

You were only here for a year,
Yet I’m reminded of you

Places we studied,
And even got lost.

Your face looks out,
From the picture on my desk.
You look so happy.

But I know you weren’t,
I knew then too,
But I didn’t know what to do.

Your mom messaged me,
She was watching the season finale,
Of our show.

I wish I still talked to her,
But somehow it seems so different,
Without you there.

I miss you,
But compared to her,
How can I possibly miss you?

She knew you better, longer,
My sadness doesn’t match hers,
Or at least it feels that way.

I’m graduating in a month,
You should be here,
Maybe I’m doing it for both of us.

We should be celebrating together,
Instead I’m alone,
I don’t even know how to celebrate.

That’s not really your fault though,
It’s mine, my friends are just not graduating,
So it’s just me, what fun is that?

I wrote a goodbye,
I wrote it on a napkin,
I have since hidden it.

If I don’t look at it, or
Post it,
You might not be gone.

I’ll share it one day,
That’s when I will let go.

Missing you.

A life of miracles

Sometimes it surprises me,
How my life is built on miracles.
The miracle I woke up on time.
The miracle I wasn’t late for work.
The miracle I finished the essay on time.
The miracle the professor accepted my paper late.
The miracle the bullshit I wrote was good.
The miracle I got an A in the class.
The miracle I did okay on the LSAT.
The miracle I was accepted to law school.
The miracle I got those jobs.
The miracle my parents help out.
The miracle my sister cooked diner.
The miracle I ate more than once today.
My lack of effort astounds me,
As so many good things always happen.