in the midst of resting…

There is something healing about stepping back, stepping away, looking in another direction, laying down the heavy baggage and resting. I suppose I am still in the midst of such a respite. It has been, and still is emotionally tumultous but I wouldn’t change a thing! I know it is for my greatest good. I recognize the synchronicities, feel the abundance welling within…I know it leads to everything good and just, and is divinely guided.

I’m not haunted. I’m no longer running from nor chasing ghosts. I’m setting them free! Yet, I will never forget the beauty of each shiver, every lick of the whip, every whisper of deeply held pain! I ask that it stays cleaved to me so that I might never forget, to remember, to understand what others go through, to give my experience and my pain a voice, and to say to those in similar territories…”I know!” “I understand!” “I feel you!””I see you!”

How can I explain this journey? The path only illuminated by faith! The details unbelievable…unexplainable! To tell my truth, this unfathomable truth will come if only I never resist. The words will come when they are ready. I know my heart is healing, and it is a living, breathing, beautiful entity to carry within my chest. And my soul? Oh my ancient beautiful soul…”I know!” “I understand!” “I feel you!” “I see you!”

 

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spread…

I was never anything

so murderous

until i slipped out of my clothes

gently fell each piece to the floor

bare and daring

I gave myself

over and again

again and again

whatever I was looking for

it never came

with pink lips and

breathless sighs

I was never anything

as murderous as me!

 

 

 

an ageless thing…

we spoke of age
and its
inconsistent
measure
young
old
truely I believe you 
it doesn’t matter
it is such an ageless thing
a concept only formed to fit 
the rule-makers design
oft in the mind of the 
passionless and disenchated
I, having been one
my own victim 
to my own murderess ways
minimizing my potency
I lost my way for a long while
yet I’m awakened
ageless
finding my way back to me

There once was a man…
who wanted me

I have forgotten…

I have forgotten this thing
this thing called breathing
what it’s like to lay
effortless
easy
unaware 
unaffected…

I have fogotten this thing
this thing called comfort 
what its like to be wrapped
safely tucked in
warm
weatherproofed
protected…

I have forgotten this thing
this thing called forgetting
forgetting to forget
your color
your beauty
your reflection
sound of every word you’ve written…

I have forgotten this thing
this thing called L (cursor blinking)

no! I haven’t forgotten
*erases that line

I don’t know this thing
this thing called

…LOVE…

…and then, collapse 

As it all falls fatefully 
my hands
contain 
no substantial grip
every tiny fleck
slips through my fingers
whatever my heart 
proclaims
stirs within 
moves towards
…and then suddenly, collapse
of a beautiful thing
Something my heart reads
a lessening chapter
pages crumpled 
stacked
achingly piled 
my blood
my breath
my entire being;
gasoline to flame
and an end…
there is always
an end

9:46 am confession…just another useless waterfall

I stand here questioning
every word of my slient voice
written to the heart of pages

what if my mouth is permanently numb
And I can’t skin you with my tongue

I claim to have this capacity to love
But what if it’s a lie? 
What if I am a lie?
What if I am not real ?
Am I only pretend?
just a fucked up aberration 
or typicality 
unwanted middle aged drab
aging perfumed water
my head spins straight to my core
my heart breaks every minute
in every beat
62 this last minute
splits in two chambers
or eight
Or 64
Unmeasurable hairline fractures

a two headed monster 
what if its always been the dominate Me 
repeated play of hurtful things

I keep seeking self torture
so very little recovery anyway 
so just hurt me
and hurt 
And hurt 
me over again 

never really have I been loved
a proper beautiful thing
only golden threads turn to rust
crushed in hands of would be lovers

Am I this unfeeling dumb bitch 
undeserving
sick and twisted
for my indiscretions   
All those years ago
weak and fettered 
lost girl 
finding and thinking
love between her thighs

how have I become this nothing of force 
just shattered mess of dark red glass
picking up droplets from the dirt
sandy grit having changed my shape 
my edges unable to fit together

incapable blend
sweet wicked berry juice
inproper fraction sips
incomplete whole

what actions
measures have I taken
keep swallowing
to seek and self destroy

Please don’t do it 
don’t destroy
I beg 
I beg 
my pauper cries out
A beggar for something
not ever certain
anymore

I am only good to avoid
as I hold stick glue
trying adhere substance to water

everything of my being
is really unremarkable 
for their absence tells me so

this dark breath sighs
and life I let run over me 
surrender 
let it interpret my outcome

take me
notice or not
numb or too emotional 
love or hate
what am I anyway
but a twitch easily flicked away
a decayed rose 
green thorn inbetween 
third and fourth rib
perhaps fire dying 
and water stilling
try to burn to rise
fail to drown to feel

everything
I am or not
as ever uncertain

yet even more so now
split and splayed 
fileted 
before
you