Day 219: Between the Poopies and the Poppies

(There was a previous photo of me going into an outhouse. lol)

I didn’t actually go into the outhouse. It’s like my least favorite place in the world. I prefer bushes. And I don’t poop. I’m a princess, and princesses don’t poop.



California Golden Poppy by Sam Craft


This is me thinking I am standing up straight. I have no idea what I look like most of the time. Am I a bendy doll? Now I’m starting to realize why guys might think I want their number.

Between the Poopies and the Poppies

I have a difficult time understanding the middle ground.

I am at one extreme or the other.

I am a prude or I am sexy.

I am trying whole heartedly or I give up.

I am excited or I am bored.

I am starving or I have no appetite.

I hyper extend my body backwards or I hunch forward.

I  smile huge or I frown deep.

I  have extreme hope or I have extreme sorrow.

I feel joy or I feel agony.

I think I’m cute enough or I believe I’m too ugly to leave the house.

I worry obsessively or I let everything go.

I am overly fatigued or I have extreme energy.

I  cling or I walk away.

I smoother another or I want nothing to do with a person.

I overshare or I clam up.

I’m talkative or I want complete silence.

I obsess or I walk away in disinterest.

I am confident or I am insecure.

I like myself or I hate myself.

I’m trying to find that middle ground, somewhere between the poopies and poppies.

Between the crap and the sunshine.

Between the stench and sweetness.

Between the ugly and the beauty.

I just don’t know how to get there.

Day 183: Sunseed

Flower in my yard (July 2012)


I am your vase, your soil, your moisture, your sky, and your sun

Whatever you will, I shall be

Speak and I shall breathe

Call the stars by name and I shall remember

Everything I am, I give

If not for you, than for no other

I  will hold you day upon day, carry you where I go, smile at your beauty

I will watch in adoration as you unfold, as bud becomes bloom

Again and again

I will move where you move, bend where you bend

Your presence my completion

I will reach with careful hand to touch frail softness

And find myself, uncovered and awaken

I will curl into the glen that is you, collapse into your welcoming green

Finally I shall be home, and weep to the angels so

Finally I shall be free, and embrace the echo of my own laughter.

~ Samantha Craft, July 2012


I am gardener, I am maiden

A sunseed in your pocket

A dewdrop on your tongue

A blossom calling to the bees

Come to me, take what is yours

Carry me away, pollen upon knees

And turn me, transform me, into honey gold

Take me, whatever vision of light you be

For I am yours

~ Samantha Craft, July 2012