im sorry, i know you are busy. i know it is not a good time. but i dont know when is when i feel like my heart is on the line. never is there a good time. never is there a good place. there is never a good anything when i am in this space. and so that is exactly what i want to address. i cant understand when and why this is a constant part of my process. i dont want to be like this i dont want to be seen like this. i feel like im on the edge daily of a mental abyss. and that is hard for me to admit. but i say it all the time so that i can feel legit in my being legit in my existence like i am a part of this fight and i dont want the resistance. i want to be able to live freely in love. i want to know that you are in love. with me. all of me. especially the hardest parts that there are of me to love. and i should probably stop hoping that i should feel that from a human love. i should probably learn to let that love come from above. i try oh believe me i try. but everyday that goes by and i dont get the whatever it is i need from anywhere i try love, i die. a little bit more in my brain and a little bit more my heart goes insane. because, see, this torment comes out of nowhere sometimes. and this torment is created by my internal lies sometimes and this wisdom that sits deep inside my soul gets washed away with every time my expressions are turned away from. or not acknowledged. not drawn out from me, see… i want to be engaged with words that extrapulate the self hate away form my mouth away from my souls gate and the prison that i have built as my metaphorical estate. and everytime i have to be the one to say anything about my mental duress i get stressed because it is happening again, and i just cant win and i should be able to come to you but dont you understand that to me love is when you choose to infiltrate the demons inside me, with the knowledge that you will stand beside me and fight with me. i know that you are scared youll get taken control of, but when love fights next to me the fight is quickly over. and i am free once again. i can then resume my life and live once again. i can look into your eyes because they are so near to me and i didnt fear that i would be fighting alone while you waited for me to win on my own and come back to this world with a smile on my face. while you wait for me to be a in a space that you are more comfortable to embrace. love is not always comfortable, love is when you look at me and say that together we are able to keep growing stronger. and it will take longer for those demons to come back into my brain because you will be on guard and holding my heart close enough that the space is too small for the doubts to grow bigger and make me fall out of your hold, the grasp would be too tight and soon i will see that there is no reason to fight anymore. because everytime i have expressed my doubt of my self or your love you will have stood in the path of my resistance and you will be persistent and you will not be distant. but insistant that no matter how long this takes you are willing to be the one who will always win this race that i run against myself. and i wont have to fear that it is slipping away based on the games that myself internally plays agianst me and that the rest of the world. i will know that i am always heard. and loved. and i will win, and then … you wont be too busy because the time is so few and far between. and i will always feel like a queen who has control over her kingdom , no more doubts will be let in. and all the in the middle of the days woes will be washed away by the i love yous, and ill know that is true…
crazy
I fell in love today.
I fell in love today. It was this primal and raw kind of love that made me comfortable feeling raw and primal as a lioness. It was a beastly love of two wild animals that were silently chained together by the intertwining of desire for years at best. It was of urges and of seek and capture, prey of scents guiding the way of conquer from a long time quest. It gave way to passions of permitting a pathway to discovering the separation of love from lust.
I fell in love today. A silent and seductive yearning of the feminine in plain divine. A longing of lingering my hands through the strands of knowledge growing from the crown of time. A love so pure and withheld creating an inner tension of wishful and wistful combined. A touch of goddess and a touch of stone made me pulse for a censored exchange to be mine.
I fell in love today. Fully feeling the swing from the ever swaying pendulum. Full of fear and confidence in in the movement of loves ever present momentum. Full of logic and reason as well as wonder and imagination. Fully splitting the chances and choices of fantasy and life’s presentations. Fully appreciating the balancing required to see that the opposites are attracting me by desperate invitation.
I fell in love today. Given that at the beginning it was a love of projection and intent. Given that there was barely a truth to the verbal exultation to which love could proclaim or present. Given to me a truth that parted the thickness of the fog that the emotional storms could invent. Given to me was the clarity and unobstructed interpretation of where the looking glass was offering a purity to reflect.
I fell in love today. In the search for the heavenly the darkness was expunged. In the journey of the healing, the pain wanted to cling on from the lack of nurturing from the time of young. In the exposition of redefining love, the resuming doubt and contrition wanted to be the heroes unsung. In the face of fear, love came to the forefront with a ferocity to never be undone.
I fell in love today. Love was given a chance to speak its case. Love was showing up regardless of how far it was shipped off or put down or displaced. Love gave itself a manifestation in every physical, spiritual, and mental embrace. Love dangled its limbs out in the storm, held onto the winds wailing and gusting threats of creating malaise. Love stared directly at the depths of doubt’s twisted shroud and veil, bringing to the light of love….. my face.
intimacy and infidelity
Intimacy… I’m not sure it means to you what it means to me… intimately… the sharing of my most inner and darkest parts of me… infidelity… I suppose we will see it differently…
intimacy… giving only to you, what others long to see… intimately… expressions of love only given to me…. infidelity… I was not the intended choice, just present company…
Intimacy… where I feel your soul as deep as you penetrate me… intimately… thinking, longing for only me … infidelity… wishing it was her instead of my lips you see…
Intimacy … when our spirits combine to become one energy … intimately… the belief within that we understand our connectivity… infidelity… when one week prior, to her declaring your desire, then claiming love for me…
I gave you me. Don’t mistake my love pouring outwardly as a statement of any weakness or inability to live with hope for intimacy while waiting for the infidelity….
chris(t)raitor
ah there it is. that emotion. so familiar. never too far gone to be missed. not like the way i miss you.
my kids keep asking me to set up a tree, set up some lights…they dont know that i think about doing just that every single night. my daughter begs me to just at least set up the lights strings, she doesnt know the kind of complex pain that idea brings. see these are the things that are supposed to be cozy, supposed to be heartwearming, singing the kinds of songs that are inviting and charming. but not entirely to me, it all is alarming.
see they dont know that if i allowed this to take place, then my honor, my disposition would be a disgrace, erase the meaning of taking a side so to speak, leave me feeling feeble and meek, and not to the definition this season implies by festive speech. not to the implicative and traditonal form that i used to preach. back before i was, we were given a breech in the trust, now a questioning of beliefs and integrations of those traditions is a must and back to those harkening heralds make my heart bust.
in my previous belief system, christ was with man and man was with him, gather around together and sing the worshippings and the hymns, circle around and give prayer for those in need and expecting that the “good Lord” will hear the good deed, and we look to the sky and we look to the churches to help our broken hearted get out of the lurches, but its those very same preachers and prayers that are giving the heart up for purchase.
my heart was paid for they say, but they dont say how much i actually paid for my beliefs that day, when i had to put my head to the floor and give everything in my soul to believe and to pray, to let the words whispser out of my mouth, let thy will be the way… oh i did pay… that inglorius play that i had to play a part in starring as my own character, wacthing myself become the worlds worst mother, listening to him say that he will take the other.
so now back to the season of hope and of healing and all that i see are the backs of my eyelids peeling as i try to peel back my pain and judgment of all that i see and hear, when it is the time for me to hold the “lord” near. and i know there are other meanings to this time, but for me it was the only celebration that had brought a semblance of mind and the hopes and trusts of this world and his to combine are now falling as fast as the snowflakes dissapating near the roadside. and now to the glimmering lights of silver and gold i am blind.
but i beg to see. i beg to feel good, feel better, feel all the love that i should from my creator, from the master of love and hope maker. but if i gave into that then i would be a traitor, because it was me that he asked to trade for her, it was me, he asked to keep my life over hers for. so if i go about the world, singing of joy to every boy and girl, then i am forced to remember, that my little girl is an angel forever, he became a demandor, and that is not something that i can choose to be a worshipper of and play my used to be love and master christmas, life decorator,.
my name
the thing is that i don’t really know, ya know? i just kinda sit back and let it all flow, let it all roll, down my thick slick skin like a hippo in its oil, chilling out, not worrying about the recoil from any thing that was said or even implied. i lied.
at least that is not what my heart says to do. it says to turn around and say, fuck you. it says turn around and end this abuse. the misuse of my heart is so easily acceptable by myself when myself is feeling a little mentally untrustable. is it un or is it able?
waning i make my way to a table of cards that you dealt i pull up a chair. it’s fragile and broken, in need of repair. and it is so easy to observe, relentless, absurd how much the seat of which i sit reflects now for me to see what i always have heard.
fuck you.
alright i wont say it again, but sometimes these words are the only ones that can begin to describe the amount of energy it takes to contain all the chaos and darkness that consumes this supposed brain, when i have to refrain from explaining to you the actual you.
you say what you need to, say what you must… but the persistence and insulting insistence makes me inwardly combust. it’s all unjust, emotional dusting and spiritual stifling, remaining too long, but now i am strong,
and strength is my name, literally, everyday of my life i have been fighting for something figuratively, but also fighting for life every day positively and truly, seeking out the higher truths which have led me back to a bit of my characteristic youth.
and has led me back to explain something deeply about me to you. it’s not all about what you did to me or what i didn’t do, its not about the twisted result how with myself i am repulsed when i should have been upheld., held up,
hold up, no no no,
it’s about how i let me slip away how i fell into the silence game, how i gave away the meaning of my name, and redefined over time. reimplied whom it is i was supposed to be, yet here i am rediscovering that me is a she who is fine and able. she is learning to cast shadows to those uns and shine light on the ables…
fuck yes. i am stable.
i am labeling a path, “now mine to take.” and im sorry for the pain youve endured on behalf of my mistakes. it wasnt me. or i know some was, but im getting the impression that i am better than i was, but now with a voice. and a desire to voice it, tell my truth, whatever that is. no matter the consequences.
and i realize that not all energies, with mine, will form alliances… i realize that it doesn’t change the fate of my future intolerances. oh the dancing of chances and the passing of glances….
i am now learning i was good but i was quiet and withdrawn, those are for reasons that could take days to go on, wanted to speak, but i never did. like i was a kid whose voice was heard but not really.
so, really, now, i am hoping that i will, now i can, i am trying, no longer trying to cling to a life where it is all about self silencing, that self sabotaging route needs to step out of the way, because im here, to reclaim this day,
for me, strength is to remember my name
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.
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…
the Proverbial Phoenix 