The Navy Notebook

My life is a navy notebook

Cracked and worn.

A glittering silver unicorn on the cover.

The binding is broken

Pages are falling out.

Some are tattered and torn.

Brittle yellow tape binds pieces together.

The blue ink on the early pages, faded and smeared

The looping cursive of a woman child’s dreams.

A decade of anger reflected it thick black ink

And tear stains.

Each entry dated

Sometimes minutes, sometimes years between.

The purple prose reflects and reminds,

Wounds and heals.

Everything that I have been is here.

The tight precise script of the academic

The messy unreadable scrawl when I answered to doctors.

Now, the space sits empty

Pristine white pages with pale blue lines

Waiting to see what comes next.

My life is a box of crayons.

Bright blue skies and orange suns

Replaced with murky swamp green

As teen fears and abusive fathers

Overtake childhood sunshine.

College is a swirl of pink and gray

Newsprint and hope co-mingling.

Light brown tea eyes of the man I love

And kelly green dresses of the first woman to love me back.

There’s an entire section of black

Bright black perky goth

Faded black t-shirts that are almost grey.

Royal purple ribbons

Blood red stains as my heart breaks.

Manilla and gray come with the diagnosis

Though they tell me awareness is bright orange.

I find my smile

When she wears a faded pink shirt with purple letters.

New love comes in calico

But I can’t find that crayon.

My life is a cardboard box

A messy jumble of books and toys,

Pans and dishes, clothes.

People, places and times.

The box is frayed, but sturdy.

Worn and tired, but ready to go anywhere.

And in the corner of the box,

My blue notebook calls to me

Demanding I write the next chapter.

Looking out the window and closing my eyes

I see the world is green.

Soft rain falls and the orange sun

Lights the rainbow that leads me home.