Writhing

I wait
and stir
and stew 
and spin.
Writhing 
I long for you 
I yearn and 
I grin.
This passion is vexing 
and wanton
and bent.
I squirm
I wiggle 
I smile 
and I wince.
You contort
and thrash 
and agonize 
and twist.
I drip
I giggle 
I moan 
and I release.
Sighs 
and murmurs 
and incoherent pleas.
Breathless gasping 
and uncontainable relief. 

Empty chair

A loose thread is so easily undone 

I was once woven into your stories and sewn inside your heart

But our seams frayed 

And your words once threaded in desire now spin on a metal spool 

Am I just a pincushion in your basket 

You don’t finger my thimble anymore 

You prick your fingers on new needles

You won’t cut me into shape or bleed on my fabric 

I’m just another unfinished garment

Laying on the shoulders of an empty chair 

There are pieces of me that died too long ago. I don’t burn my soul on them like I used to. They’re not aesthetic, or for reasoning, or for false sympathies, yet I wonder if I’m ever going to be able to feel as alive, again. I wish, my how I wish I could grieve those passions long forgotten, I just don’t feel the smoldering flames tickling my soul anymore. I wish I could say the fire was unconscious, or suffocated but I don’t daydream like I used to. I think maybe it’s time to mourn the ash so dreams can rise reborn. 

Is it a character flaw or a virtue to think instead of act? Action can mean progress or failure; action can prevent despair fueled by regret? 

But isn’t action also something as simple yet effective, as a kiss? 

Winter feels like grief, like uncertain grief; both the suffering and the moments in between. It leaves you so cold.

To be held in your gaze, like the astonishing truth of a sunrise and the warmth and tenderness of a sunset. 

Shouldn’t have

I want to swallow sunsets and be held in the yawn of sunrises. 

I never asked to hold it gently in my hands. 

To speak so generously with clouds rolling like thunder and bending lightning with my tongue. 

My voice touching everything, and hugging quiet shadows tenderly.

Maybe if something as beautiful as the sky lived inside me, then someone would want to love me like they love the sky. 

Maybe they would want to put their mouth on mine and feel love grow inside of them.

But. I was always wanting things I shouldn’t have. 

The day was spilling into night, and as the evening cast bitter hungry shadows, that ‘top of the world’ feeling was plummeting fast enough to put me 6 feet under. 

Not Charlotte’s web

If I was a spider 

I would spin stained glass skies

And dress in black shadows

spun silver by the moon 

Catching drops of the sun

glistening in morning dew

Come now,

come to me 

Come dance on silken thread

These fangs are ripe with poison 

Come rest your weary head

A black coal heart awaits 

Hourglass painted red

and you 

ensnared, 

in my parlor of pain

I will feast on your blood 

And you 

will wish 

you were dead.

The only one not afraid of me, is the one who weaves the same soliloquy.

This is no Charlotte’s web.

I am sitting here with coffee. The morning air is chilly and it’s hauntingly quiet. Just the noises off in the distance of a lazy but busy beach town. 

It’s 4am and thoughts of you stir me awake. I stretch and I feel my collarbones wanting to crack, my ribs roll and you are not here. You are not here.

I’m calling to you in my mind. Can you hear me? Let me in, let me penetrate your mind as you sleep. Let me to invade your dreams and hold me there, please feel me. Feel me falling over you delicately. Reach for me, pull me closer, hold me in your warmth. I wish to be the girl of your dreams. 

For me

I spent a lot of time asking, why her and not me. And not once was it ever because of jealousy. It was always because I couldn’t understand why I was always too much or too little and not enough either way. 

I just wanted to know why it wasn’t me. 

It was rarely the same reason, which made it even more difficult to wrap my brain around. I wanted to learn from it and “fix” me so someone would choose me. I was always building rebuilding, and reinventing myself over and over again. I spent years torturing myself to be someone that someone would love, not once thinking I was reinventing myself from words and actions of others who caused me tremendous pain, didn’t always admit to their part and also didn’t choose me. 

To be clear it was most often me that pulled the trigger. I was always holding the smoking gun, and I told myself I didn’t mind because I looked good doing it. The vanity and the horror. I would be so hurt by the time I pulled the trigger, it didn’t matter that I cried as I fired away. I didn’t care if I carried all the blame, I had to clean up the mess anyway. Here’s the pile on with sprinkles and whipped cream; but trust that I was framed.

I was too busy looking for clues within and without to realize, why did I care so much why none of them chose me. I stayed in relationships based on the premise that I might be chosen - what was I thinking? 

The only choice that matters now is if I choose me. I don’t need to fix anything about me for anyone else, and certainly not for anyone that doesn’t choose me. I say this to myself as if I believe, as if anyone might ever choose me for me. 

Exhale into me

Let me steal that exhale of release from your mouth.

 
I feel you under my skin and in the marrow of my bones,and I cannot get you out of my mind or focus on anything else.

Deliciously unexpected 
I’ll stay right where you tell me

bewildering things

Using your mind to understand your mind. Such bewildering things; such paradoxes we are.

Choking

I feel the words rotting inside me; all of this poetry I cannot speak. I am choking on all the shameless silent decay.

Blushed

I saw you,

and I 

could Not 

look 

away.

Your eyes on me; and I,

Blushed.

And you held me there,

steady in your gaze, 

your claws already deep, 

tenderly 

violently tearing into my flesh.

Monster

Pour your emptiness into me, 

release for me

Fill me wholly, completely.

With every terrible thing; 

all the edges

ledges and

secrets.

Let me drink your pain

and love you,

still,

my monster.

Temporary

You are enough. 

Some people just drift from person to person because they’re unhappy with themselves. They know you deserve better, they’re just not willing to do better, not for you or for themselves. 

They got their ego fed by you and someone new will come along and feed their ego, too. They are masters at this game, they know what works, what words to say, how to give you just enough and always keep you there in their pocket, guessing, waiting, overthinking and they will not apologize for it.

They will get bored with you after a while because you want something more from them, something they’re unwilling to give. They will just keep hurting others and finding a million reasons to justify their actions. 

They are temporary people with temporary thoughts and temporary emotions. 

Yes there could be deeper underlying issues like trust and trauma, but don’t make excuses for their disrespect. Deep down inside they know they shouldn’t be out here messing with other people’s feelings. They know they should be focusing on healing and getting to the root causes of this behavior, but they’re lazy and the culture we live in tells them they don’t have to do anything different. 

Today’s culture tells them that the right one will accept them as they are, or maybe that person is just not the right one and it’s time to move on. They will use everyone and then play the victim the moment they’re called out. They will call you crazy and launch a campaign to smear your name then cut you off. And they will tell the next person just how poorly you treated them, when the reality is You saw through their bulllshit. They must destroy your ego, for abandoning feeding theirs. 

These people are cruel, heartless and narcissistic, they don’t care about anyone but themselves. If they care about you it’s because they care about what you can do for them. It’s about how they can manipulate you to get what they want. They are arrogance cloaked in confidence and their biggest fear is that you will see right through their act. 

Be careful out there. Pretty words are beautiful and pretty words are also sometimes very hollow. 

Sleep on it

I’m tired, but not the kind of tired where I need sleep. I’m exhausted and so fucking tired of this world, of people, of ugliness, of not being good enough, of people thinking I am stupid, I’m tired of wearing a smile and pretending it’s all okay. It’s not okay and I’m fucking tired. I know no one is going to save me. I have always known that. I’m still tired of always saving me. 

I’m tired of being there for people who don’t give a second thought to me. I’m tired of trying to make my parents happy and always falling short. 

I’m tired of failing at being a mom and a dad, I’m not a dad. I didn’t want to be a dad. I only wanted to be a mom and I’m tired of apologizing to my kids because I failed at being a dad, as much as I failed at being a mom. 

I’m tired of being okay with being walked on and pushed to the side or shoved out of the way. I’m tired of being the woman good enough to fuck, but not good enough to genuinely cherish. I’m tired of holding on to the fantasy that there may be romance somewhere hidden behind all the pretty words and pretense. 

I’m tired of being a punching bag; spiritually, mentally and physically. I’m tired of holding all this grief inside and crying so no one can see me. I’m tired of feeling like I’m a second hand puppet used for entertainment purposes or to manipulate others. 

I hate this world for making me feel this way. I hate all the ugliness and complacency. I hate feeling everything. All.Of.The.Time. I am tired of my own bullshit and I’m really fucking tired of everyone else’s bullshit. 

I’m tired of going to sleep on myself, sleeping on my dreams. I’m tired of sacrificing all these pieces of my soul for crumbs on a plate - at a table I built. I’m tired of taking what is given instead of taking what I want and need. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and how heavy all of this feels. I’m tired of carrying this sword everywhere I go, even when I sleep. I’m tired of accepting it as - it is what it is, and still so much less than I deserve. Tired of being forgotten and then reliving my past just to remember. 

I’m tired of everyone holding all of my sins over my head. I’m tired of being punished for things I have spilt blood over.

I’m tired of racists and bigots and war and seeing this world tear itself apart over an idea or indifference or misunderstanding. I’m tired of misprinted lies and misinformation. I’m tired of elitist and complainers, corporations and injustices, I’m tired of entitlement and laziness, I’m tired of cruelty and ignorance and shame. I’m tired of everyone always looking away. I’m tired of everyone screaming for attention in all the most pathetic ways. 

I’m tired of looking into their eyes so filled with fear and despair and rage and grief and confusion and understanding their pain.

I’m tired of not being allowed to feel emotional ecstasy, and I’m damn sure tired of feeling like I have to ask for permission, or ask anyone for help. I am tired of being so fucking sad and depressed all of the fucking time. I’m tired of people telling me to smile more. And. I’m so goddamn fucking tired of people telling me to be more positive. Fuck you. I’m tired of being positive and being the bigger person and being understanding, and caring and feeling everything I can through the eyes and words of everyone around me. I’m tired of silver linings because the truth is so ugly, that I have no choice but to find the positives. 

I’m tired of seeing all the pain and hearing all the things people want to scream but won’t, because they fear how loud their anger truly is, and feeling their fear of a world that won’t shut up with it’s incessant judgment and shaming. 

I’m tired of seeing people I love and care about hold all their pain in and scramble to hold their world together. I’m tired of knowing they aren’t fully themselves because if the world senses the slightest vulnerability,  it will bleed their kindness dry. 

I’m tired of the vultures and the critics, and how everything is a status symbol or a statistic. Just let people be, so they can just feel everything they need to feel to be whole. I’m tired of the comparisons and scorecards, and how everyone tries to cash in on ridiculousness or the easy way out. I’m sick to death of all these self appointed life coaches with their self righteous opinions and need for acceptance, but so unwilling to hold a light to their own sins, their lack of accountability, whilst preaching of self care and self awareness.

I’m tired of my body betraying me, and watching my life quickly and quietly become a memory that I fear - even I will forget. I’m tired of looking behind me and everything appearing as if it were linear. It wasn’t linear, none of it was linear. I’m tired of looking past all the bullshit and the bullies and the daily struggle and stressors and all the demons that keep saying you have to fake it until I make it, just push through.

But. Mostly I’m tired of crying, tired of whining, tired of smiling, tired of not having a voice anyone will take seriously, tired of thinking it will make a difference. Tired of my own hypocrisy and perpetual self reflection and always trying to find ways to be a better version of me. I’m tired of putting myself last and always having to pull myself together while clinging to the tiniest of wins, that seem to carry the weight of all my dreams and hopes and wishes. 

I’m tired of being made to feel like I should be ashamed of what I look like, or who I am. I’m tired of not treating myself better and not loving me - or worse - wondering why I don’t love myself and instead am constantly picking myself apart or questioning someone’s integrity because they compliment me. I’m tired of not letting go of the replay of being made to feel inferior and less than - so that someone else could feel better or more superior. I’m tired of trying, I’m tired of putting in all the effort. I’m tired of questioning things that no one else will and the dirty looks because I didn’t stay quiet when everyone else did. I’m tired of taking all the blame and the way no one lets me forget.

I can’t sleep because I’m so tired. I’m tired of waking up and realizing that this is not a fucking dream. I’m tired, but not because I can’t sleep. I’m tired because I can’t sleep because I’m so fucking tired. 

And. I’m tired of saying tomorrow’s another day and then thinking maybe I should just sleep on it. I tired of sleeping on it. I don’t want to sleep on it. 

Ache

Down to the marrow of her bones, the ache was merciless, the tenderness and the agony, and his mouth, his goddamn mouth begging to steal what panted breath still lay forgotten and buried deep in her lungs. She died over and over, her soul now his, splayed open exquisitely upon his sword, the night alive with her trembling screams. 

Wish

The warmth of his neck, the vulnerability begging me to give in to my thirst, the need for his blood smeared lovingly across my lips
A wish so softly blown it lay heavy on his kissable lips and velvet tongue. 

Carnage

The serrated edges of me will slice you open and I will not weep as you bleed. I will bare my teeth and tear at your flesh until my appetite is sated. Touching myself with bloodstained hands and lovingly licking you clean. 

Cage

I’m so tired of always being so strong. Too many things break me so easily now. I break me.

My jaw is too tight and I can’t move. I am paralyzed by crushing anxiety and the deep well of depression feels so fucking heavy, that it’s pulling down on my shoulders and I only feel the liquid venom flowing in my veins. 

This cage.

Seasons

The seasons forever changing 
Like me, like all of us. 
But to exist softly, ever so softly 
In the in between 
With no chaos, no pain
Sweetly, safely, serene like 
But all my devotions turn to violence
And dreams withdraw suddenly 
Wishing only to be a feather
Like sorcery, dancing with flame
Turning, falling, flailing, floating 
Violently fighting, teasing the flames
Wishing for a strong breeze 
To gently carry me away.  

Melancholy

She tasted 

of melancholy 
dripping dangerously 
like acid
from sullen eyes, 
and the salts 
of all her tragedies 
wore deep 
beneath her bones.

Light my Fire

Why do people do that? Why do they try to silence you when you’re filled with fire  talking about your favorite things? Don’t cut people off in a peak moment of passion, expressing themselves through  something  they love. 

I was always dulling myself down so others could be more comfortable, for whatever reason  they just couldn’t appreciate the enthusiasm I could have for the many things that set my soul on fire. If I cannot be myself with someone, simply put - I don’t want it.

It’s a privilege to see someone get excited about something they love, even if it’s not something we understand. So why do so many people shut others down when they’re spilling over and gushing about what gives them cause to be excited about life? 

Learning to love myself has taught me there are a few things I love about me and I love when I am spirited. I love when I fall in love with the little details that ignite my interest and fire. 

Don’t go quietly, fill the room with fire from your energy. Suffocate the sheep, fuck comfort zones and walking on egg shells. I’m not going to be quieted, you’re discomfort with my elation is not my problem, it’s your problem. 

Scene

The scene in Bramstoker’s Dracula, when the Prince appears as vapor and sneaks into Mina’s room. The way Mina’s body rises and her hips roll and she comes to life as she feels him weightlessly glide over her body, she cries out in agony from him merely being vapor, and he completely consumes any space between them, he comes in the cold night air, warming her as nothing but vapor and suddenly the Prince materializes and she opens her eyes and he cradles her so softly and tenderly kisses her. And she proclaims in desperation, “I never thought I would feel your touch again” and puts her hands lovingly in his hair and gently but forcibly guides his face down her writhing body, him obeying without hesitating kissing her everywhere, his kisses delightfully tracing her curved all the way down, their bodies wrapped in the other. That scene is so mesmerizing and so dark and sexy and romantic. 

The entire scene; the dialogue, the want, the electricity suspended in the air, as they finally get to gaze in the other’s eyes and touch tenderly. They can’t keep their hands off each other, they can’t not touch, they can’t not breathe the other. The intimacy of him telling her the truth and confessing all his sins like she’s his religion, and she absolves him of every horrible deed he ever had to do to get back to her. Even though he kills her best friend Lucy, after seducing her and turning her into a vampire, long before he turns Mina even. And she beats upon him with her frailty in anger and she loves him anyway begging him to change her and make her like him, so that they can be together as immortal lovers. It’s so awful and tragic, so achingly beautiful and haunting. Then he just takes her, and destroys her violently biting into her flesh, and drinking from her consuming her soul. 

Wow. Then the story gets really dark and grim. He leaves almost immediately after taking what he wants and she’s left bitten and fevered, and wanton but incomplete and not transformed yet, deathly sick and unable to eat or sleep. She becomes possessed by her desire for her Prince, almost masturbating in front of VanHelsing before trying to suckle the life flowing from his veins. VanHelsing has to save her from her own grief and transformation, and protect her from Dracula’s 3 wives. She is absolutely bereft from Dracula’s mark left upon her, so much so that in the end - even the mortal man she married recognizes that his lovely sweet, innocent dying Mina can only be saved by the love for the man that he claims imprisoned him and sought to steal his fiancé from him. 

That idea that a woman or a man has that depth of passion to cripple a man to the point that he would make a deal with the devil himself, and cross oceans of time for only a small window of time together, and to get one more kiss from his precious MIna.

Then everyone gangs up on the Prince and tries to murder and destroy the love that defies life and the natural law of man itself. She grabs a rifle and defends the monster laying in the snow, bleeding out and professing his love. She stays with him and spends the last moments loving him and granting him one last kindness as he’s dying in her arms, she pushes the blade deep in his heart and releases him from his curse, and proceeds to cut off his head. 

Afterwards she becomes human again and pretends like nothing ever happened and leaves with her husband. Who, by the way, was with every one of Dracula’s three wives in a carnal primal sense while they fed on him and sucked him nearly dry. He suddenly awakens to a fragile moment of weakness remembering that he is in love with Mina and must save her from the lord of the undead, who managed to easily sway him into staying in his castle and later calling him a mknster that had poisoned his mind and tricked him into staying with Dracula’s 3 wives. Only to call Dracula his captor and play the victim. 

And this is why we are all fucked up. This is a story of love, of how love defies sanity. And yet all the minutiae of the details escape us all because in the bigger spectrum of this gift of fiction, we strip it bare, ignore all the red flags riddled with lies, deceit, debauchery and darkness, and take from it that the idea that love has the greatest power over all of us. 

We all yearn for someone to see us, even as the monsters we sometimes are - knowing all of our sins - and loving us infinitely anyway. 

My Dad, on dating…

 My Dad asked me why I am not dating anymore. It was odd for him to ask so bluntly but I know he listens in when mom and I talk. So I said mostly because of inconsistency. Mostly because they always end up being too busy. Mostly because I don’t throw myself at them. Mostly because they’re often entertaining a dozen other women. Mostly because I’m not overtly sexual because I need real connection and commitment before I want to give myself to a man and they have no patience for that when there’s women everywhere willing to give them immediate gratification. Mostly because no one lives in the real world anymore they live on social media and pretend to be someone they aren’t. Mostly because I don’t feel safe. And mostly because if I do meet someone worthwhile they live somewhere else, so logistics is an obstacle.

My Dad cut me off, he got annoyed instantly and he didn’t let me finish. He said, “men are hunters by nature. I don’t care what bullshit any generation spews at you about times being different. The heart knows that love is love. And a man in love stops at nothing, absolutely nothing. Sure a women can pursue a man if she wants to but if a man is serious about a woman she will never have to give chase. I don’t care what you read in those books of yours or on the internet or social media. If a man wants you, you will know, you won’t doubt, you won’t be able to deter them - even as guarded as you are - you won’t catch that man remotely entertaining the idea of another female because you will be his only focus. No matter where they are personally in their lives, whether they have their shit together or not. Distance does not matter. Where there’s a will there’s a way, whether he comes to you or brings you to him. He won’t want to spend another day without you by his side. Most men aren’t running away from a great woman, they’re running away from the parts of themselves they’re not ready to fix to deserve a great woman. So yes they will mess with these women that are easy or that make themselves easy to prey on or aren’t interested in anything serious or have no respect for themselves. But a real man in love is wildly consistent, he’s never too busy, he doesn’t have deep conversations or share intimate parts of himself with a woman that he doesn’t see himself being with, so if he has a lot of “female friends” believe me he’s interested in them to some varying degree and if he comments on selfies or photos or whatever the hell your generation is doing to get attention, and claims he’s being nice, understand he’s hoping that woman will notice him. If a man wants you he is going to do everything he can within his power for you to notice him, he will make plans with you no matter what his current situation is because a man that wants you won’t let another man have the opportunity to step in and nothing and no one, not even he himself can stand in the way of him wanting to be near you. 

I watched you suffer and sacrifice for your kids your whole life while their fathers were jackasses and let you do all the work. I watched you stumble through life financially because they couldn’t man up enough to be the father my grandkids needed. I watched you break your soul to be an amazing mom, a single mom trying to balance everything in her life and still be a good person and woman. Any man that cannot see just how beautiful you are is a damn fool. I didn’t raise you to be this strong to turn around and keep settling. For years I watched quietly, enraged that you settled for these lesser men. Not all of them bad, but just less than you deserved. I watched atrocities unfold in your life, while your mother grabbed the gun from my hands only to remind me that I could lose you forever if I stepped in when you were always so adamant about standing on your own and not telling you what to do. And goddamnit if I didn’t have to hold your mother while she cried and we watched painfully on the sidelines where you wanted us to stay. 

You deserve the world and you deserve a man that knows who he is and what the hell he wants and needs. I get it, you want magic and all the stars to align and all that other bulllshit. And it is magic, it does change everything. But you have to stop talking to these no good sons a bitches that just want to use you. Stop talking to these guys that talk too much and do nothing. Stop trying to fix these broken men that use you to make themselves better. A man interested in you will make sure you know he is interested and if he doesn’t, he is too weak for you. And a man that loves you wants you to be the best you can be, even at his own cost. Men show you who they are because they want you in their life, no matter what, no matter if they have kids, no matter their job, no matter where they live. Your mom and I both brought you and your brothers along on our 2nd date, our 2nd date! So if all these men have are excuses or they’re inconsistent or they’ve led you to believe you weren’t enough or you were too much, it’s because they’re not the right for you. And I don’t even know if there is a man out there that I will ever think is good enough for you, but your mom is a hopeless romantic and we both genuinely want to you to be happy. We want you to find peace and feel safe.

I hope you hear my voice in your head and listen to me for once in your life, because I need you to hear me, it is their loss, I am here to support you and love you but I’m not going to listen to the horseshit your generation says to romanticize every damn little thing that happens or doesn’t happen. There’s not a hidden message in everything most of the time things really are exactly as they are, stop overthinking everything. 

Listen, You are not like everybody else. For as much as you have endured in your life your heart and ability to love is pure. And maybe some of your narrow mindedness about what you think you deserve is our fault, your mom and I didn’t interfere and at times didn’t even know what was happening because you chose to keep us in the dark, at times I am grateful or I would be in prison or dead, had I known. I still fight the urge to hunt them down and be the karma they deserve. Your mom and I raised you the best we could, five kids and You as our only daughter, as headstrong as you are and that’s saying a lot with how headstrong your mom and I are, it wasn’t easy. It was hard and you were always questioning everything and our authority and our reasoning but it was also fun and you always found a way to laugh. And we tried to raise you to treat everyone equally and respectfully, and if people didn’t show you the same respect you walk away, we raised you to pick your battles and to have humility and manners. Yeah we’re old school, but old school never goes out of style. We thought we raised you to listen to your own voice, to be independent, and to stand up for those that can’t stand up for themselves, and a lot of who you are - was already there. 

My job was to guide you into adulthood with the knowledge and an understanding of your gifts. I failed at times, sometimes we failed a lot. And I regret some of the choices I made. But I also watched you become stronger than your brothers, in mind, heart and soul and that’s not saying I love them any less, but I watched you overcome challenges and situations normal people simply don’t live through and I’ll be damned if I am going to sit here and be quiet while I listen to your heart break and watch your mother cry, because we’re not going to listen to this shit anymore. At some point you have to fix your focus on yourself and understand that You deserve better and you deserve to be loved the way you need to be loved, you deserve a love as great as the love you give. My daughter, my only daughter does not settle, you need to learn to get out of your own way, now get that through your thick skull, quit crying and give me a hug me because I am going to go lay down, I need a nap.”

Goddamn I love my Dad. 

Someday

‘Someday’ is one of the most obscure words to me, it’s as noncommittal as a ‘maybe’ or an ‘almost’.

Yet, we place all this hope and faith in the idea of someday, when the reality is; someday isn’t promised. 

“There are seven days in a week, and someday isn’t one of them.”

Shadows

I am lucky to have 
shadows as my companions;
one thinks she is a demon,
the other thinks she is an angel.

Contradictions

We live in a world filled with contradictory messages, constantly telling us to fight for the people that we love or to never give up on them, until we get hurt by those people. And then we see messages to just fight for the people in your corner, don’t just fight for the people you love but for the people that love you. It’s a world full of all these mixed messages that contradict each other. “love without expecting to be loved”, “do things out of kindness, not out of the favor being returned”, but we are are emotional beings and that’s not how life works. Because the truth is we do want to be loved the same way that we love people and we do expect love and respect to be returned. The problem is we put all our focus on people that don’t always give what they get. It’s exhausting.

Some of our our biggest life lessons is learning that we are all different. We love people the way we want to be loved, we show people how to love us. And when they don’t show us the same love back, we think we should wait for them to figure it out or to learn. We blatantly ignore the truth because of what we want. But. Maybe what we want isn’t what we should have. We know how we need to be loved. But we need to learn to know when to walk away, when the love isn’t reciprocated, when it’s not what we need. And sometimes what we want contradicts what we need. 

Humans are funny like that. 

Value

You don’t love ME, you love the idea of me not the reality of me. 

I won’t lie to you. I won’t tell you what you want to hear. I won’t do what you want me to do just because you want it. 

I learned something, I learned how to start loving myself again. I realized how little I was being valued, but how much I’m worth. And until I feel safe, people can spew all the pretty words they want. I vibrate and flow on energy and I sense when someone genuinely wants the best for me. No one but me determines or dictates my worth. I don’t cut people off, I just put more distance between myself and the ones that fail to see how they’re loved. I need to love me enough to fight for the softness I still have left to give ;not just for others, but softness for myself. 

Shock

Shock struck when I heard your voice

I thought I had gotten past it 

It had been so many years

I was so removed from you

We were safe

You didn’t know where we were

You were locked away and 

We had built a bubble 

But in that terrifying moment

I knew this was the beginning 

Of another reign of terror

Flex

My favorite flex from people is when they say they want to be close to me, and then completely shut me out of their world. 

Empty

I felt the shift, the space that gave birth to a cataclysm.
The echo of crickets in the silence that surrounded the castle walls.
The way the chair next to me, was always empty. 
The shape of the fog that swept down and fell asleep at the tiniest glimpse into a hallway of stars and galaxies with universes still unexplored.
Dropped like the dull penny swimming to the shallows of a subaqueous wishing well.
Spinning so fast, the weight crushing fluid shoulders already too small to carry it all. 
Like the hollow taste of someone else’s words, when you can smell someone’s fear.
The staleness of the phrase “what if” was first penned with a quill and was maybe only meant to appear beautiful.

The way a heart goes skydiving without a parachute and we lose our mind.
What a ridiculous notion, the very idea of love stimulates the imagination like a blender.
We like to start fires just to watch things burn and then become mesmerized at the dance of the flames. 
So haunting the way the embers float, but only one will ever be crazy enough to jump into that lake of passion and burn with you. 
Straightened shoulders pulling strength from the rush of pain. 
Don’t give away your energy by having to chase energy.
All the energy was sucked out the air and the shift was felt. 

Lies do more than just leave stinging bite marks.
They bleed you dry.