write about it

write about her, write about him, write about you, write about them. write to survive the night against the demons with whom to contend. write about courage, write about fear, write about speaking, write what there is to hear. write to forget that fervently it is wished for love to be near. write of the struggle, write of the tests, write of the secrets, write of which has been confessed. write to remember the moments that develop and your existence is blessed. write to create emotion, write to silence a crowd, write to give a voice to the quiet, write to soften the loud. write to stroke the ego of the philospohically proud. write about lust, write about restraint, write about temptation, write about the saint. write about the euphoric imagery two bodies create. write about despair, write about loss, write about hope, write about progress. write of the lengths and the turns of the healing process. write about light, write of the glimmer, write of the vibrations, write of a hearts shimmer. write of the fight that goes on to shine within her.

Hold my story

Share your story here… what is it that you want to say? Share your story, hear what it is that You wish to convey. Share your story here and watch as the words come across the screen and etch in your memory’s day. Share your story here? Naw, that was just generality, a formality, these ears are only for display.

Share your story to the ears that hear and appear to be near and reach hard to be clear , reach hard to be heard, to be audible…. share with the crowd that is generous and emotionally malleable., …. share your story with those that ask you about the scars in your heart, about the walls that you’ve built, the depths of your soul… share with the one who will yearn for your story to be told…. like their favorite book, close to the heart, that they hold…

Already…

Is it already this day, two days before the day after tomorrow… another one of those days harrowing of sorrow… reflecting back and I recollect the beginning of the hollow.

The tunnel had been dug, been digging since the sunset dimmed, removing the foundation making flooring bend… impossible to stay stable, unable with the ground sinking in.

The reality starts to halt, the words just months before delivered, unfaltering unwavering no tremble or quiver… are no longer sourced as Love from who they were whispered.

I’ve been here before, the cycle starts turning and hits a kink in the chain… so much is familiar and yet it has an equivocal exchange … it was all raised and laid out with no grasp to remain.

It is already this day, the day before the day that comes after tomorrow… the proclamation set and yet now blame follows… such a sad reflection of the projection, once again, wilted by sorrow.

Fallen, forgotten

If I have fallen, I will not chase. I will stand up and and walk out of this place, this space that I held so sacredly, so emphatically I expressed the importance of why I impressed the boundaries… and yet the ecstasy stole away from me a reality that I am yearning to live, my behavior and mind beyond obsessive, not allowing myself to breathe I move on I push on looking for relief, and I give… I gave into the message that was continually delivered , words that were read and audio crisply heard, pictures being formed and hopes painted , of course I knew the truth would soon taint it, repaint it with a clearer version of the uncoverable mess, the crystal clear lining providing nothing left, nothing less, nothing more than a moment in fantasy slipping away from me and reminding the ache that it has never been too far from me, I let it slip away and be switched for bliss , I let it slip away, let love be on the lips…I kissed hope too close and broke it into pieces, it is part of the process, acceptance of what it is, but what it is now, has me remembering that with pain, it usually comes from loving out loud

No one cares

I had a hard day today, none of them are my friends

I had a hard day today, another day of hope and pretend

Things are harder for me now, it’s harder to get through

Things are harder for me now, I struggle through what is easy for you

I am broken now, you just run along and play with them

I am broken now, you say I’m using that old excuse again

I’m struggling, ever since my baby sister died

I’m struggling, please see my brokenness inside

I’m dying, drowning in my brain

I’m dying, yes the – my baby sister died – excuse will remain

silent strings

the dictation is super strong even though there are no words, there is no song…. the chords that are not playing overtake the audio and the audience sits applauding, oh the intensity of the spectators felt triple fold the under the pressure of the encores and the lighters waving around and putting it all under the light and all over again, these feelings, having to fight back the emotions but they are always in control so the are just let loose and maybe will present some healing, i am hopeful….. but while the smile on the face of the one tearing it all down walks around flaunts around there is more stone thrown on the ground and it is crushed by the “greater” and “better,” what will never be built …. forced to watch a structure be remade by architectural guilt, in a world that is conditioned by hurt and making sandcastles out of the driest of dirt… foundationally impossible and yet still it is tried, and it is failed.. and it is swept under the rug and declared clean and repaired, fully detailed. on the outside appearance it is fresh and giving young and determined and the crumbling remnants are left to the mouse with nothing, troubling…..how much so little it appears to one, to the other is much, too heavy, the smallest of items to some are checkmarked too large a burden to carry, on the backs and the hands and the hearts of the wounded loved, no matter how high i try to rise above, there is a constant leveling a spiritual unsettling and bringing down of elevations, and there is less of me and more of the jealousy and less understanding and more impractical demandings of my heart to understand and move on and be free, and it still looks down and sees the strings ….

processing, reflections, and phoenix

im processing …. and realizing there is a pulsing in the brain that is now abscessing, and simultaneously fracturing the essence of structure, …. breaking down all the zoning and the breakage causes a puncture,  the very core of stabilization… the shaking of the foundation created the shattering of the perfect reflection… only seen in the mirror of self preservation…. preserving the perverse and twisted of versions, the self visualized identity, … as the remnants lay at the floor of our souls debris… the destruction occurs naturally…. only chaos comes from the natural being while intentionally, reaching for the metaphysically, observed,  and released,  for the physical attendee to record visually… purposefully arising from the ashes with intent and poise, silencing the piercing shrieks that explode from internal noise….. with louder and more quiet, with peace and partaking of personal riot, the duality sits in one seat but has a co pilot… flying this aviation device in natures glorious defiance, navigationally pleading for direction or guidance …..while holding out for the results of this test, the years of experience are the only reliance….. relying on the self, based on what was once true, only leaves making the fool make a fool , the fool sets the new standard of what not to do, raises the bar of what to make sure to do,  ensure the new place in the opportunists new dormitory, a broken improvisation of “new” in an old story, a horror story, where peace is misplaced and love is brutal and gory, engorged, in self servitude and division of self sustainment…. watching the self try to rebuild within itself is devastating entertainment…. without the leading of the game of blame,  it seeks its own demise… falling further into the fiery path no longer disguised, and once again, out of the ashes with a smile, the soul will rise

Better yet?

I guess I just felt that I should have more closure today. Instead I find myself diving further into the unknowns… I go there frequently and sometimes resurface from the depths with a new understanding of the foreign entities I have encountered. I have made more friends with the oddities and theories than not, as of late. While I explore in this spiritual and transcendental in-betweens, I have learned that there is still so much more to be seen that could never be spotted by the laymen human plateau that is often referred to as the heart…

I thought that I would feel differently now. Perhaps I feel that people feel I should feel differently by now. But, I don’t. I remember about four weeks after Archaea passed that I had a day that I woke up and didn’t cry. I thought, that’s it, I’m done crying now apparently and I have this grieving thing over with….. It wasn’t much further into the day that I bawled. Same thing happened about 3 months into it. Again at 5, 7, 8, 10 months…. Then the anniversary week came fast and relentless… So naturally, at one year and three days, I assured myself that I was good, and that now I can move on, breathe… What better time for me to be done with all the pain and sorrow and crazy? A year has come and while others are only reminded because perhaps of my constant reminder that is my being, I remember everyday. We all know that.

So I sit in this struggle. The battle forging between my soul and my soul to be… Whomever it is that I am going to become next is strongly weighted with the iron boots cast on from the previous battle of who I was before. Of course I see the waging of war within myself. Of course I want peace. However, the only way to know peace is to know chaos… or so they say.. … Whoever they are anyway.

I will never know here in the space I am what the space prior was or what my future space will be. I don’t know if I will ever return to myself or evolve into a more enlightened version of myself, but I do know, that I have become more accepting of myself with the feelings I have. I am free to be stagnant, I am free to flow, and only I at the time that I am who I am, can determine what I will do, be, think, feel…..

And today, I am angry. Again or still… and that is absolutely beautiful…

write or wrong

At a steadfast pace in this existential race, I’m ever wandering on a path that steadily, is being erased.. I jog along trying to keep next to my mate, but that map is quickly being misplaced. It’s in the plan to exacerbate, forget to mediate and just begin to elaborate like my ears are a fresh slate.

I’m irate.

I’m needing to medicate and replate this dish thats been served at my table. The one that has a misleading label. It comes with a menu that is written in fables. Words so smoothly ejected that they make your understanding feel disabled.

Without the able.

Locked in a stable and stuffed in a cradle to be kept at bay, while all the nay sayers neigh, and display the inability to articulate the right thing to say. It all comes out in disarray.

Today. Not today. Someday. Some way.

Weighing the past to the future while missing the present, the reality being filtered by resent. The distance growing rapidly by coupled dissent.

I relent.

I indent my paragraphs to acknowledge priority of speech. I use this avenue to release.

Please.

I am incarcerated by your freedom of speech, and the twisted justice has my faith impeached. My body beached. Floundering in the chaos and fleek. Flock, forgoing the family flight. Standing still while watching lies pass me by, reeling from plight or a lack thereof. If there was pride from the guide, there would have been love.

one week, again

In one week I will be trying to honor Archaea on her day of birth….

In one week I will be trying to keep it together for her brothers and sister, so they too can honor her, if they so choose….

In one week I will be desparately clinging to anything I can find holding some semblance of peace or love…

In one week I will be reliving last year (as if I don’t daily) mentally over and over again….

In one week I will no doubt be overwhelmed and dissatisfied on how I chose to honor her should have been 1 year birthday…..

In one week the day that has been trudging through my mind over and over will whirl away as fast as I can think of it…..

In one week I will be so terribly sad and trying terribly to get the “should have beens” out of my mind….

In one week I will be devastated and horrified that we will not be honoring this time together as a family….

In all the days that have been passing as this day approaches I have been learning….

In all these days leading up, I have been preparing….

In all these days coming through I have passed through with them again desperately trying to find the love and hold that….

In all these days I have battled to do so….

In all these days I am learning to honor Archaea I am also wondering what that even means….

On this day I have broke down more times than I care to admit…

On this day I have been more angry than recent…

On this day I saw how much my children love me regardless of my anger…

On this day I realized that there was more of me that could still be broken, since the day he said goodbye ….

On this day I saw that I am certain I may never heal from this beyond brokeness…

On this day I decided that this process is my way of honoring her and that is raw…

In this moment I am lost, but still looking for a compass