There has to be balance

Leaving for work, the skies dark and full of promising rain, I took a somber moment to avoid stepping on a dead baby bird in the middle of the sidewalk. The ants were making light work of its frail little broken body. It must’ve fallen from the nest in the middle of the night. 

The poor thing was just lying there next to the stairs, you had to walk around it. What struck me the oddest, was that it was the second dead bird I had seen that week. 

Sometimes sitting on my porch tending to my plants, a blackbird likes to mess with the little sparrows in the tree outside my son’s window. There’s always plenty of predatory birds; I live near a protected sanctuary. The nest is empty now. 

I have seen a bald eagle in the area more than once, and there’s countless osprey. It’s probably the biggest reason there’s not a lot of tomcats in the area. Sure one or two will show up; but they’re never large tomcats, though they are battle worn, and it’s just an observation, but they never stay long. We have to keep our domesticated small cats and dogs leashed for a reason here. 

Not three days ago, there was a dead sparrow on the sidewalk between the building I work at and a stripmall shopping center. I walk through the breezeway between the stuffy buildings to take in the lovely fragrant plants and get fresh air and walk. 

Strangely enough this bird was just laying there, reduced to tiny bones; the feathers sprawling, it’s eyes hollow, peaceful, the beak turned downward. Poor sightly little thing. It took two days for maintenance to remove it. I was more than mesmerized by the way it looked, something very tranquil in its expression. 

I couldn’t help but wonder, is this a sign? What did it mean? Why do I have to make it into anything other than the fact that the circle of life is constant. And death is natural and always all around us. Nature is both full of life and full of death. There has to be balance. 

I might not say much, but I notice every little thing. 

Energy speaks so loudly where words fail and fall silent. And vibes write the truths that no tongue or pen can twist.

When my thoughts go dark, I look at the whimsy in flowers. 

When routine bores me, I go outside and walk barefoot in the grass. 

When my mind is caged, music sets it free.

When erotic thoughts consume me, I love myself. 

When I am sad, the sky paints colors that embrace me.

When I can’t shut out the world, I get lost in a book.

When I am lonely, I write and the words hold me.

I want to look away, but I don't. Everything in me is screaming to stop watching the news, but there's a part of me that knows I have to know.  I cannot always look away. But it gets too heavy to carry and my heart is breaking. 

So many people are hurting. Why is the world turning to such brutality and awfulness?  

There’s something very delicate, very soft and sweetly devine, deep within me. It’s a shy whimper and a giggle that purrs.

Balance

I used to meet my emotions with pure fire. I would stuff down the pain, the terror, the worry, the anguish and anxiety. I would sweep it to the side and focus on surviving and getting to the next moment intact. I didn’t have time to open myself up to my emotions and stand in the rain of my own vulnerability. I had to act. I had to mom. I had to work. I had to keep moving.

My emotions caught up to me and stared me down until I relented and let them in. I sat with them and felt every single little thing. It nearly killed me. I had to experience emotions from my childhood and trauma that I never truly let go. I was dying quietly. I told no one. It was and still is one of the loneliest moments of my life. 

I fell apart and absolutely no one knew, no one saw and no one came to save me.

I lived in an emotional whirlwind of unresolved pain and fear and trauma by myself. I met every single emotion with open arms and let it kill me. 

Until one day, I stood up again. I stood taller and my heart and mind could make sense of all these emotions and feelings. It was heavy, but I felt lighter and I felt the flame within me grow stronger than I had ever felt it.

It hurt and I can’t even write this without becoming emotional and tearing up. But I don’t run from it anymore. I let the tears flow, and I dry them.

I don’t want to just survive things anymore. I want to live in the truth of who I am and what I want my life to be. Turns out, survival is only reactive. 

Living in my emotions and my fire gives me balance. This is me living my life now.

No one is coming to save you, get the fuck up, feel everything, and you will find your strength, strength beyond what you can imagine. 

I always thought by not feeling things I would be better off. And it would help get me over that hump. It was a strength during those times and it did help me get through some unbelievably difficult times. But I never got over them, because I never allowed myself to feel my emotions so I still carried these things with me. It was survival, a coping mechanism that was necessary at the time. 

I don’t do that anymore. It doesn’t serve a purpose anymore to ignore my feelings. Now I feel every little thing, even if it makes other people uncomfortable. 

I don’t live my life to please anyone else anymore. I live for me, for the love inside me.

I don’t entertain disrespect, bread crumbs or mediocrity anymore. I love me. I know there is magic in this world, because I am magic. 

Just easy, on a Sunday afternoon

I hear a commercial about ‘Carl Flammer Ford’ and my brain instantly goes all adhd mode and I am practically singing, “flam flam flammer, phlegm phlam, flu, flu phlegm, flu, flu, flum, flummy, flammy it’s all phlegm Carl Flemmer Floyd, Flammer Ford Flemmer, flat fluff flower phlegm, Flammer Ford.”

A energetic little performance, all while I am drilling together the parts to a new tv stand. I am going to brag a bit and say I completed the 2 person job by myself in 46 minutes. But. To be fair, I lay everything out on the floor in perfect little sequentiality placed piles, because I pregame and organize. 

I am proud of myself, so I make chicken fried rice (from scratch), drink 2 high noons and have a lovely little nap to reward myself.

Just easy, on a Sunday afternoon.

It’s not just a threat. 

It’s a promise 💋

I wish I couldn't feel energy shift.  

I wish I could be a cold heartless person. I am so tired of feeling people pull away.  I don't know how to not love loudly. I barely know how to whisper.  It's not that I am loud or obnoxious, I am simply passionate.  

I think that scares everyone away.

The shadow of the moonlight cast bright

illuminating the rouge lace clinging to her radiant skin

And all the holy parts of him gave rise to the mischief dwelling deep within.

She's on her knees; he's begging her please

Is it prayer or a plea?

Praying for all the pleasures and sweetest pain.  

He unmasks her darkest cravings and emboldens her whimpers, compelling her surrender.

Not a new lesson

I don’t give chase to people anymore. 

If people want to walk out of my life, I don’t stand in their way. I just smile.

Since childhood, I've given chase wishing for people to want to stay. I’ve cried, begged, pleaded and bled for people that reject the love I give. I’m exhausted. If they want to be in my life, why am I begging them to stay?

I cherish and treasure those that don’t blink twice and stay. Whomever wants to leave, such is life. C’est la vie. 

Sure it hurts. Letting go is painful, but it’s not a new lesson, it’s another relationship, another person to grieve on a new level.

I’m tired of fighting to be a part of someone’s life, when they aren’t fighting to be in mine. I guess if it was meant to be, it wouldn’t be a fight.

I know things are not always going to be easy. It’s why I try 

It is what it is!!

I have phone fatigue.

I don’t know when it started, it’s a good thing, I just don’t seem to want to doom scroll social media. I just don’t want to have my phone in my hand anymore. 

Hell I don’t even want to engage with anyone using my phone right now. No texting, no phone calls. Nada. 

I just want to be present.

I’m not sure when the transition to an old crone started, but here I am.

Quietly letting my softness coexist with the friction of my life’s little inconveniences. 

I’m confused; I don’t know what life wants from me. 

There are times when I stayed and I should have left. And there are times when I should have stayed, and still I left. There are times I over communicated all my feelings. There are times when I didn’t know how to communicate any of my feelings. There were times I was available to talk and listen, but I didn’t. There were times I wasn’t available to talk and listen, and yet I did. There were times I stayed up all night waiting to hear from someone and never did. And there were times when I should’ve stayed awake for someone to be there to listen, and I went to bed instead. 
Nobody is perfect. We all make choices that weren’t what the other person expected. Maybe we should stop living in our own prisons of expectations. Our actions and inactions have consequences. Maybe we can just be grateful for what we have, in the moment that we have it.

The words are there, but I can’t quiet my mind long enough to let one solitary thought step forward. I just keep holding my pen there, hoping the words find me, hoping the ink bleeds onto the paper, and it won’t be a Rorschach test or a Jackson Pollock painting again. 

Surrender

It’s so easy to surrender, 
to the moon.
To obediently 
pull my hair to the side,
lower my head, and 
plunge into the push and pull 
of magnetic energy; 
the heat 
of that luscious glowing kiss 
on my shoulders, 
goosebumps 
exposed
poised
in anticipation
Of,

Feeling the weight of all of my emotions,
Feeling the weight of all of my moon.

Black Lilith moon in Scorpio. 

The sting is dark, desirous and beautiful,

the Flower moon opens love up to a

karmic cleansing soul recognition.

I smile because my moon unfailingly shines on me and fills me with his presence and love. It’s so easy to surrender to my moon.

Can we hurry up and get to the part where I don’t have to be a strong independent woman anymore. I really just want to be taken care of, I want to be soft and feminine and adored. 

I think that is a wonderful birthday wish. 

Sometimes I think about it, it’s a smell or food or a song that comes on. The ache in my heart is bittersweet. My throat closes up and tears well in my eyes and all I can do is smile and laugh. Because I love love love being your mom. 

I don’t recall exactly when, but at some point you each got too heavy for me to carry; too grown, too independent. I mean, I knew I was raising you to be able to handle life on your own. I just didn’t realize that also meant you weren’t going to climb in my lap or come crying to me when you got hurt, you got too big to ask me to kiss your boo-boo’s and make it all better. 

I knew one day you’d take care of yourself or maybe even a child or your own. And I am so unbelievably proud of the incredible souls that each of you have become and are still becoming. But I never thought the time would go by so quickly. I find myself missing those moments of you needing me. I miss carrying you and holding you and comforting you. But mostly I wish I could still kiss your boo-boos, tell you everything will be alright and make all the pain and sadness and sorrow go away and just make you smile. 

I was lost in a fever dream last night 

He kept growling something so sweetly in my ear

what was it, what you said, I beg you to do it again..

A wish for him to want to look at me and forever be thinking about ways of making me orgasm.

That's the thing

The thing is 

it’s just so many things 

yet we reduce the collective significance 

until it’s just the one thing 

whether it’s because it isn’t anything 

or simply because 

it's too many things

we make it smaller 

to make ourselves smaller 

making us a little easier for others to digest 

somewhere we decided 

we're too burdensome for another soul 

or maybe it was the fear of being dismissed 

therefore, dismissing the reality 

that it's just so many things

We cling to that one thing that's replaced all the things, because we wanted someone to understand, we wanted them to stay, to not become bored, to not let go of our hand, to not look away. And when their reaction to the one thing just isn't. We suffocate under the weight of all the things. 

That thing - was all the things, we just didn't know how to tell you all the things without all the things spiralling into all the other things which also led to worrying you would worry too much or worse - you would let go of our hand. 

And that is why it's just so many things, because there is no one here holding my hand.  And that's the thing.

You can tell someone your story, but it doesn’t mean that they have the ability to offer comfort understanding or comprehension. Sometimes it really is best to just keep things private and to yourself. 

Learn how to navigate your own thoughts and emotions without the need for anyone else’s understanding. Most people cannot comprehend the depths of why something moves you to feel the way you do anyway. It’s not their fault and you cannot force perception.

Focus on your own energy but remain kind. Everything will become clear and reveal itself in time, be patient with yourself.

I wanted to scream 

I wanted to cry

I wanted to not to have to grieve you

I wanted you to say that you were sorry

I wanted you to love me.. I was just a child

Instead I watched as life left your body and your eyes grew cold to meet death, .. and as your soul left this earth I held your hand, forgave you and said goodbye.

I don’t want this grief anymore, I don’t want to mourn you. 

MLC 2/18/25 2:37pm

I wonder how many, your eyes seek out to entertain 

This biting ruthless reality, a hemorrhaging painful thought in my brain 

A wish to be the only one that you see

Is often met with laughter for my silly searing naivety 

Blanket

You’re a blanket of compelling mysteries, enveloping my mind.

Strung together with secrets, waiting patiently for me to untie

Your mind an enigma, a riddle, a perplexing design 

And I with a wanton vulgar need to unravel, untangle and deliciously unwind

…craving

Your fingertips grazing gently across my skin

My mind lost in the now and faraway alluring imagery of our darkest sins

Your breath warm and sweetly whispering at my neck

Knowing the tenderness will frame my body with longing and infinite ache

Your gaze so haunting, so desirous and deep 

Reminding me I will beg, and moan, and delightfully weep

Our bodies, our minds, our souls rhythmically swaying 

Your music, your lust, your love I am craving. 

When you choose to become a parent, you are committing yourself to a lifetime of sacrifices that no one else will ever know about, these are your gifts to keep and you take them to the grave. 

just this dribble

I’ve missed too many sunsets and too many sunrises, trying to make ends meet. 

After sitting down with my mentor and boss, I might be able to get back to digging in deeper into the career path I’ve chosen, and at some point resign from my second job. It’s been necessary but the lack of sleep and loss of motivation creeping in, is weighing in heavily.

If only I could write well enough. There are so many stories, so many unbelievable and shocking truths, many dream-like adventures to share, lots of overwhelming beauty, all-consuming joys and deep wells of sadness. 

Sadly no, there’s just this dribble from a very buzzed and very tired girl.

I had been feeling it for days…

I think I knew, secretly yes, I think I just kept wanting to believe that it was indeed mutual and a mirror of my affection, but I felt withdrawal. I gave the space they begged silently for and stood-by and watched the vacancy of their presence and their words and waning lack of observation, perhaps deliberate - perhaps not, but the frequency of ignoring things previously never missed was staring at me from the shadows in the dark. I swallowed explanations and excuses like chasers, I was choking.

I hate that my heart has the strength and power to silence my mind from truth. Why is my heart so selfish, so stubbornly fragile and always choosing to love people that don’t love back. 

At my core I am just a silly neurotic passionate romantic little girl still learning life lessons again and again and again. It’s draining, my chest gets heavy, I can’t breathe and the corners of my eyes  pool with tears. I wanted to believe otherwise but the ‘but’ reveals truths. The head knows, that the heart and soul will feel too deeply. 

At the heart of grief there lies a melancholic danger, I prefer the danger of hope, it’s kiss; and a far sweeter bed of death.

Your shadow embraces me 

and it feels like home in your darkness.

flushed and feral

their presence 

their energy

vibrating through 

your body,

touching every 

inch of you.

you’re alive,

your skin

tingling,

just aching 

for their 

eyes on you,

their smell; 

the ecstasy and 

slow agony of 

their lips

their hands

the weight 

of their body

pressed perfectly 

against

and into 

yours,

craving 

the sweet tenderness

of their sensuality

and sexual

violence and 

vigor,

enthusiasm 

and passion,

the anticipation

rushing through 

your blood;

your body 

humming 

and

trembling 

he’s made

you

all

flushed and 

feral