Tuesday, June 7, 2016
In the stars
theres nothing left. Words can't do it justice, they cant put a name on what this experience has been. the torture, the loss, the sudden heaviness that overshadows every day. Im dead already, every breath I take is pulling me away from her, every moment I walk on the ground I should be under is a step out of place. Im tied to her, our souls are in the stars, this world cant understand the way the universe first aligned to bring us together and then ripped us apart. There is no meaning to this, its fucked up just like everything else. theres no grand lesson, no purpose to the way things happened. God is dead, shes dead, Im dead. The universe is in chaotic order. its a race against time, its a gamble at best. if you find the one and can hold on to them , call yourself the lucky one. When you find the one and they are taken from this earth you become the very definition of star-crossed lovers. Never fulfilled, never seen to fruition. being torn navel to chin, my insides torn asunder. How can one survive such a brutal attack.Im knocked to my knees, I'm face down in filth, I'm clawing the earth to get back to her. I have lived beyond my time, my time without her is a weapon I cannot control. My lungs expand each time aching to breath her in. My hollow chest ever aching. Shes gone, theres no bringing her back. So I go to her over and over, pleading, take me with you. For one more touch, to kiss her lips would bring me back to life. How ironic that to live I must die, To love I must leave. Goodbye to those souls who have truly seen me. Im in the stars with the only one I truly loved. Count me as I fall from the sky and make a wish. There I am unending, there you can see, I found her once again.
Sunday, March 27, 2016
In My Hands
Im brittle.
My hands tremble holding whats left of her
The weight heavy but fleeting
Unencumbered by gravity I feel her lifting from my palms
Her energy so tangible
her breath on my neck, I deeply sigh
My eyes close and for a moment we are suspended
our skin hot, our sinews embedded and intertwined
we are
the air thick with sadness
the atmosphere tinged with sorrow
the earth ripped from its axis
we arent
my chest heaves
the aching
my hands tremble holding whats left of her
my heart beats, willing life with out me
my lungs breathe, the sting of death seething
my blood runs, escaping from my eyes
I see her
at a glance shes there, running from herself
inside me, clinging to me, shes there
my ribs caging her, her song unsung
what was is gone
what would be never to be done
in her I found my
we were
vital organs useless things that fill now empty space inside of me
skin covering bare bones
the last of us lost
suspended we are, the heavens heavy
I tie her to me, veins exposed
I hold her gently
together we are, apart we are not
forever never
we are
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Gravity
Theres something strange to my story
theres something sad in my eyes
My lashes quickly flutter, dispensing quiet tears
my hands stay in my pockets, nicely out of reach
here I stand a vacant lot of fleshy appendages.
Im so sick of pretending
Im so tired of giving in
My past runs rampant through the veins of my memory
Im like a worn in puppet
feed me words, Ill spit them out
just tell me what you want to hear
your fear will be my mirror
My gravity has cut me loose
Im running from the lie
maybe the lie is who I am
Maybe Im not who I thought I was
Perhaps I am the crazy me I left behind for years
That putrid smell of rotting soul
has returned with a vengeance
theres something sad in my eyes
My lashes quickly flutter, dispensing quiet tears
my hands stay in my pockets, nicely out of reach
here I stand a vacant lot of fleshy appendages.
Im so sick of pretending
Im so tired of giving in
My past runs rampant through the veins of my memory
Im like a worn in puppet
feed me words, Ill spit them out
just tell me what you want to hear
your fear will be my mirror
My gravity has cut me loose
Im running from the lie
maybe the lie is who I am
Maybe Im not who I thought I was
Perhaps I am the crazy me I left behind for years
That putrid smell of rotting soul
has returned with a vengeance
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Secret Sketches
Her chest cavity, empty and bare
Hollowly echoes her sinners song
Her fingers trace each veins direction
Her eyes are shiny with empty glare
The air whispers and whistles through
Its pitch is painful, muffled, hushed
Her hope is crumpled, discarded waste
The flowers decay where they once grew
Her head hangs heavily bowing down
Her hair grows wildly, an untamed mane
Her nails are dirty, her face unclean
She dances alone in her soiled gown
The velvety curtains hold out the light
Darkness absorbs her unified mind
The floors are stripped, cold and bare
The walls are wrecked with turmites
The embers are burning, on their last breath
Glowing in shame, darkly masked
Smoke hovers, lowly curling
The grave is empty, shallow in depth
Her body flinches, vulnerable, unclothed
The catacombs echo a violent song
Her fingers trace the secret sketches
Her soul rips, an uneven tear
Ceramic Girl
I take the bait, I trip the wire
the light reflects my naked stem
a tasteless fruit too quickly picked
the empty chair faces the window
never a wrinkled face to hold,
Ceramic Girl, posed and broken
molded doll, erect and willing
the smoke is clearing, shifting haze
the memories locked; adjacent rooms
synapses spark, the shadows live
the basket falls, cradle and all
she never ages, Ceramic Girl
molded doll, erect and willing
her hem is lifting on its own
the shine of her china lasts a lifetime
her gentle curls fall, lightly bouncing
her key is wound, she does her dance
bursting applause behind closed doors
she draws the Joker, just her luck
the bundle of weeds, her twisted bouquet
tied with ribbon, all too deceiving
rosy cheeks, deadened eyes
she never ages,
Ceramic Girl
Fray
The thistles are growing unevenly long
And the thoughts are screaming 1,000 strong
The branches are bowing too low to endure
And the rivers are boiling, burning impure
The blades of grass are cutting through the soil
And the sky runs blue, bleeding true and loyal
The thunder resounds on this clear summer day
Surprising the mountains beginning to fray
The thistles are growning unevenly long
And the blue bird is choking on its sad little song
And the thoughts are screaming 1,000 strong
The branches are bowing too low to endure
And the rivers are boiling, burning impure
The blades of grass are cutting through the soil
And the sky runs blue, bleeding true and loyal
The thunder resounds on this clear summer day
Surprising the mountains beginning to fray
The thistles are growning unevenly long
And the blue bird is choking on its sad little song
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The hunted
Fickle friend, disguised in sheeps clothing, how sweet the idea of you.
A friend, the basis of reality outside my head. Here and now I stand next to you, attached to the idea of you, the idea of being accepted, loved, wanted. Here you are, so many faces, you embody so many souls and so many ideas I once had. Years ago, hopes that died with each one of you. More time wasted, more doses of reality.
I never learn, I keep searching . I hate myself more each time I fail to see the repetition in your moves.
Fickle friend, when will you see beyond your wants, your less than wholesome desires. We are all animals, we share only the likeness of human beings. We hunt for the things we need. We take to survive, we tear flesh from bone and soul from body.
Its tiring isnt it, hunting and being hunted, tearing and being torn. One day I hope that you too will become someones prey, dashing frantically when its already too late. Your hope is gone, ravaged by the one who took without asking. Its true you never find out what you have till its gone, and my belief in love is such as this, hanging precariously from your mouth.
A friend, the basis of reality outside my head. Here and now I stand next to you, attached to the idea of you, the idea of being accepted, loved, wanted. Here you are, so many faces, you embody so many souls and so many ideas I once had. Years ago, hopes that died with each one of you. More time wasted, more doses of reality.
I never learn, I keep searching . I hate myself more each time I fail to see the repetition in your moves.
Fickle friend, when will you see beyond your wants, your less than wholesome desires. We are all animals, we share only the likeness of human beings. We hunt for the things we need. We take to survive, we tear flesh from bone and soul from body.
Its tiring isnt it, hunting and being hunted, tearing and being torn. One day I hope that you too will become someones prey, dashing frantically when its already too late. Your hope is gone, ravaged by the one who took without asking. Its true you never find out what you have till its gone, and my belief in love is such as this, hanging precariously from your mouth.
Sept 14, 2005
Wow, the last week has been crazy and here I am cut up and unable to relax. I am still having my body react all the time. I talked to my therapist on Monday on the phone but it didnt help. My weight has stabilized for a little over a month now much to my dismay. What is wrong with me that I cant even starve right. I am so weak. Everything has become so hard this past week. I cant function, I cant even talk to my best friend without using every ounce of energy I have. Its like reliving my past, I feel so disconnected, all I can do is be fake. I am torn because all I can do is talk to my therapist because it is the only place I can be real and honest but I just want to disappear, self-destruct, away from everything and everyone.
Sept, 8th 2005
Anxiety, I hate it. The last three weeks have been terror stricken. Mom was in the hospital for 8 days, question, wondering if death was waiting. Now therapy with my therapist....My body is still reacting. Stiff, tense muscles, restricted breathing, self-loathing, disappointment, and disgust. All I can do is hate myself for being like this, my body. The whole spirituality/sexuality is just too much for me to handle. Even just writing this my body is reacting. I just want to run, somewhere that I can be someone else, somewhere that my authenticity is not required.
2005
The sky opens into a gaping canyon of light
Lifted by a hope greater than gravity I hang on whatever cloud hovers lowest.
My hands seize from the strain, half laughing, half crying
I realize, its too much hope and not enough grace.
The repetition of this life evolves and yet never changes
A new goal, a new demon to carry me back down.
So close I can see it yet it can never be reached.
Is God this cruel or is Satan this clever?
Someone hears my thoughts and preys on my weakness.
It is May 25, 2005. Here I am almost reaching, yet bound by a past I cant leave behind.
The anorexia is yet again in my life. I have lost a little over 30 Ibs since January
Now though people seem to notice, comment, stare asking for my secret to success.
Most tell me how good I look, close friends, and family and my therapist dont agree. But deep down I know they think the same, they just dont agree with how I am doing it(losing weight)
I wonder, can I stop if I get too thin, too thin? AlthoughI feel a little more settled in my body I wont ever really be ok till I shed this skin and transcend to a higher place.
Lifted by a hope greater than gravity I hang on whatever cloud hovers lowest.
My hands seize from the strain, half laughing, half crying
I realize, its too much hope and not enough grace.
The repetition of this life evolves and yet never changes
A new goal, a new demon to carry me back down.
So close I can see it yet it can never be reached.
Is God this cruel or is Satan this clever?
Someone hears my thoughts and preys on my weakness.
It is May 25, 2005. Here I am almost reaching, yet bound by a past I cant leave behind.
The anorexia is yet again in my life. I have lost a little over 30 Ibs since January
Now though people seem to notice, comment, stare asking for my secret to success.
Most tell me how good I look, close friends, and family and my therapist dont agree. But deep down I know they think the same, they just dont agree with how I am doing it(losing weight)
I wonder, can I stop if I get too thin, too thin? AlthoughI feel a little more settled in my body I wont ever really be ok till I shed this skin and transcend to a higher place.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Bread Crumbs
What is this violent war I fight, what is this fight I am fighting for
Is this a noble cause or just my wishful thinking in action
If I cant live for me, what is there to live for, If I cant choose to live, arent I already dying?
In these turbulent winds, my wings collapse
In this bitter cold my heart is frozen solid.
Theres so much to say and no one to talk to, theres so much to see but no one to share
On the outside Im all put together, on the inside Im just as messy as you
This isolation has gotten me thinking that being alone is not all that bad
But when in the dark my arms are reaching, for someone to hold me, to keep my feet on the ground
Sometimes I think the night terrors might take me, swallow me whole and spit me out
make a mess of my image, blur the lines, separate me dark from light
My hearts all a flutter and I cant seem to breathe
and Im still reeling from the last few years.
Secretly Im hiding from my own dirty shame and yet somehow Im searching for a hand to hold
Like that rabbit hole, Im left to follow
A demons plot to pull me down
Into a world of triks and trips, of hidden passages to another realm
I peek through my hands and tip toe around
Its the same nightmare Ive lived 1000 times
Time here is precious and fear travels fast, pictures whisper strangely arming their frames
Scars here are lasting longer than knives
and bruises are pooling atop the skin
Were mortals mere mortals, claiming the sky
like Gods claim lives, like cupid pierces souls
Yes here I am an island unto myself
Washed by the sea's ebbing tide
Baptized by the salty serpent like waves wearing down my edges one grain at a time
I question daily my weakening grasp, I hate my own will to do whats right
Im bound by my honor that keeps me true, but I harbor angry thoughts just the same as you
Listen to the words that arent yet escaping
Feel the scars that wont be undone
Look past my pathetic shadow and see for yourself that I cant stand
Follow my bread crumbs and see that theyre stale
Cause this girl is long gone and the trail has long ago gone cold
This girl is still playing with dolls, though her face is now too old
Im stuck in a basket not quite alive, Im aching for someone to strengthen my grip
Im turning and yearning for someone to hold me, while I try desperately to push them away
I need someone to fight against, someone to kick me when Im already down
My hands are so needy and my eyes so hard
Like a weathered addict, too old in the face
Ive been used and controlled
traded and freed
One part escaped and the other there died
The past blows past me unconvincingly hidden
And the leaves trickle down masking the secret trail.
Is this a noble cause or just my wishful thinking in action
If I cant live for me, what is there to live for, If I cant choose to live, arent I already dying?
In these turbulent winds, my wings collapse
In this bitter cold my heart is frozen solid.
Theres so much to say and no one to talk to, theres so much to see but no one to share
On the outside Im all put together, on the inside Im just as messy as you
This isolation has gotten me thinking that being alone is not all that bad
But when in the dark my arms are reaching, for someone to hold me, to keep my feet on the ground
Sometimes I think the night terrors might take me, swallow me whole and spit me out
make a mess of my image, blur the lines, separate me dark from light
My hearts all a flutter and I cant seem to breathe
and Im still reeling from the last few years.
Secretly Im hiding from my own dirty shame and yet somehow Im searching for a hand to hold
Like that rabbit hole, Im left to follow
A demons plot to pull me down
Into a world of triks and trips, of hidden passages to another realm
I peek through my hands and tip toe around
Its the same nightmare Ive lived 1000 times
Time here is precious and fear travels fast, pictures whisper strangely arming their frames
Scars here are lasting longer than knives
and bruises are pooling atop the skin
Were mortals mere mortals, claiming the sky
like Gods claim lives, like cupid pierces souls
Yes here I am an island unto myself
Washed by the sea's ebbing tide
Baptized by the salty serpent like waves wearing down my edges one grain at a time
I question daily my weakening grasp, I hate my own will to do whats right
Im bound by my honor that keeps me true, but I harbor angry thoughts just the same as you
Listen to the words that arent yet escaping
Feel the scars that wont be undone
Look past my pathetic shadow and see for yourself that I cant stand
Follow my bread crumbs and see that theyre stale
Cause this girl is long gone and the trail has long ago gone cold
This girl is still playing with dolls, though her face is now too old
Im stuck in a basket not quite alive, Im aching for someone to strengthen my grip
Im turning and yearning for someone to hold me, while I try desperately to push them away
I need someone to fight against, someone to kick me when Im already down
My hands are so needy and my eyes so hard
Like a weathered addict, too old in the face
Ive been used and controlled
traded and freed
One part escaped and the other there died
The past blows past me unconvincingly hidden
And the leaves trickle down masking the secret trail.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
From last year
I hurt, all the time, when unoccupied I am dying. I wonder if this is all worth it? Is my life worth it? I am getting use to being alone, its not so bad. The part that kills me is the finality of the situation without any explanation or reason. The only conclusion is that there is something wrong with me. I am not alone because I choose to be, I am alone because of something less definite. Am I somehow acting out some unfinished bit of the past, an unconscious reconciliation of a past hurt? Or maybe it is simply the fact that I am incapable of having meaningful relationships, maybe I just need too much, love too much, hope for too much, expect too much, trust too much. I do trust too much. Why, why haven’t I learned, by now I should have known better. I shut off after each hurt and then eventually someone new comes along and I trust that this time they really do care for me, they know me, wouldn’t hurt me. See its not just the fact that this is happening, the pain of it, it is the fact that I hate myself for trusting, I hate myself. Of coarse I have to deal, focus on food and hate, body, exercise, more hate, sleep. If I could I would never wake up. I live because I know it is a sin to kill myself, that is it. I just want to
be unconscious, to be free from
this thing that plagues me
Day and night. The hurt never Stops, the replaying of thoughts stops only while I am busy and then they return like an unwanted flood, souring any moment of happiness I have. The bishop promised me in a blessing that in time *the unnamed friend* would come to appreciate my friendship, I was relieved at first, but after the blessing I realized this doesn’t solve anything. The thing I want the most is the thing that I cant have. Even in time if she comes around I cant. Each relationship has taken pieces of me, shattered and stolen parts of me, but this time is different than all the others. This time, I broke. My hurt , this hurt, will never be healed regardless of her future actions. This time it is more than just this here and now, this is about the future, this time someone has taken every ounce of trust I had left in me. Nothing will be able to repair it this time. As time went on I knew this was so much more than just hurt, that little girl realized that really no one understands, hears, or knows. I have been betrayed my more than just people, I have betrayed myself. Long ago I realized that no one was going to protect me. I realized in that moment that all I had was myself. Yet that human aching for protection and safety was still a part of me, I spent years stamping it out, but therapy retrained me to be open, to reach out. Yet that betrayal of a little girl could not and cannot be fixed, it is lost time, a lost cause. I don’t think I have ever really believed that anyone would get it, but I kept trying anyway. Why? To torture myself? Or to prove a point? To prove to myself that no matter how much I act like I believe deep down I know its just a game to see if I can get them to love me, to love the mask. But I believe now that I got in too deep, this time I allowed my heart to get in the way. I really believed this time. How could I be so stupid? Its human, it just human. I expect more out of myself than just human, human is weakness and I HATE weakness. Years of abuse, neglect, fear, and loneliness have finally caught up with me, in a way like never before. I was always so distracted with self destructing and avoiding that I didn’t have time to be logical or aware cognitively of myself and others, reality, or seeing my patterns clearly. I wasn’t aware of my past and present enough to put them together. This now is the time. This has hit me like a tornado with out the sirens. I didn’t have time to prepare myself for it this time. My defenses were down and my life is torn to hell. There is no semblance of structure or safety now, I am broken.
be unconscious, to be free from
this thing that plagues me
Day and night. The hurt never Stops, the replaying of thoughts stops only while I am busy and then they return like an unwanted flood, souring any moment of happiness I have. The bishop promised me in a blessing that in time *the unnamed friend* would come to appreciate my friendship, I was relieved at first, but after the blessing I realized this doesn’t solve anything. The thing I want the most is the thing that I cant have. Even in time if she comes around I cant. Each relationship has taken pieces of me, shattered and stolen parts of me, but this time is different than all the others. This time, I broke. My hurt , this hurt, will never be healed regardless of her future actions. This time it is more than just this here and now, this is about the future, this time someone has taken every ounce of trust I had left in me. Nothing will be able to repair it this time. As time went on I knew this was so much more than just hurt, that little girl realized that really no one understands, hears, or knows. I have been betrayed my more than just people, I have betrayed myself. Long ago I realized that no one was going to protect me. I realized in that moment that all I had was myself. Yet that human aching for protection and safety was still a part of me, I spent years stamping it out, but therapy retrained me to be open, to reach out. Yet that betrayal of a little girl could not and cannot be fixed, it is lost time, a lost cause. I don’t think I have ever really believed that anyone would get it, but I kept trying anyway. Why? To torture myself? Or to prove a point? To prove to myself that no matter how much I act like I believe deep down I know its just a game to see if I can get them to love me, to love the mask. But I believe now that I got in too deep, this time I allowed my heart to get in the way. I really believed this time. How could I be so stupid? Its human, it just human. I expect more out of myself than just human, human is weakness and I HATE weakness. Years of abuse, neglect, fear, and loneliness have finally caught up with me, in a way like never before. I was always so distracted with self destructing and avoiding that I didn’t have time to be logical or aware cognitively of myself and others, reality, or seeing my patterns clearly. I wasn’t aware of my past and present enough to put them together. This now is the time. This has hit me like a tornado with out the sirens. I didn’t have time to prepare myself for it this time. My defenses were down and my life is torn to hell. There is no semblance of structure or safety now, I am broken.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Arctic ashes
Ashes of ice rain down, soiling, blanketing my snowy white skin.
Each step recorded, the weight of the world imprinted,
absorbed into the light, collapsed into a hardened shell.
Street lamps are silenced, muffled, disguised, such brilliant light dampened by another force of nature.
So quietly I fall drifting through nameless shades of gray, shifting through winds and whirl winds, pulsing, lifting, my emotions sifting.
The gracious ground accepts my gifts of self, lightly resting on infinate layers of icey ash, becoming one with complacency.
The truth always known and ever ignored. The truth that the sun is coming, the fire is burning, the potentiality of our demise is ever reaching.
So I rest with these awkward peices and I lye with these lacey ashes, separate, united through future woes.
Cold and companioned I face up and fess up, one day soon I will return home. Taken to the earthly soil, transcending through this arctic air. Evaporated into the heavens, taken home.
This vision lives on, weathered by the elements, scattered with love, drifting, resting, all but contemplated.
Reborn through the sky, blank stars blinking. Risen from the depths of hell, this sober hopeless hope, one day taken to the tides of white and waves of gray.
Each step recorded, the weight of the world imprinted,
absorbed into the light, collapsed into a hardened shell.
Street lamps are silenced, muffled, disguised, such brilliant light dampened by another force of nature.
So quietly I fall drifting through nameless shades of gray, shifting through winds and whirl winds, pulsing, lifting, my emotions sifting.
The gracious ground accepts my gifts of self, lightly resting on infinate layers of icey ash, becoming one with complacency.
The truth always known and ever ignored. The truth that the sun is coming, the fire is burning, the potentiality of our demise is ever reaching.
So I rest with these awkward peices and I lye with these lacey ashes, separate, united through future woes.
Cold and companioned I face up and fess up, one day soon I will return home. Taken to the earthly soil, transcending through this arctic air. Evaporated into the heavens, taken home.
This vision lives on, weathered by the elements, scattered with love, drifting, resting, all but contemplated.
Reborn through the sky, blank stars blinking. Risen from the depths of hell, this sober hopeless hope, one day taken to the tides of white and waves of gray.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Flighty Pursuit
Loneliness breathes, it breeds sheer sadness. To be loved, to be held, no such thing comforts me. I wonder how long it will last this time, this hopelessness, fear, uncomfortable hell. Imperfect as I am I cant get use to it, I expect so much and fail so often. In pursuit of something that doesn’t exist on this earthly plane, my mind takes flight to the future and dies in the present. I wish I could understand why I torture my soul so frequently, expect so much, reason without cause. I am in search of something better in the most painful way. What is so bad about me that I cant let myself be human, be alone, be sad, be hopeful in my hopelessness. Is it my lack of faith in my Savior who loves me? Is it my inability to let go and let God? Or is it just simply my transference of self hate onto my potential inside? No one can calm me, I cant quite reach out, just short of allowing myself to be free, I fumble in the cause. They say I am beautiful, smart, caring, I see a human black hole, invisible in my pain. I want so much to be touched, my heart, tenderly guided, and reassured. Verbally stunted in a tight binding around my tongue, so close to release, to allowing a real interaction of souls. I have resources I could never have dreamed of. I have accomplishments that I cannot comprehend.
I have love in my life that exceeds what I can take in yet I take nothing into my heart, just cognitive recognition. How pointless to have so many blessings, to have great expanses of futuristic journeys, then to have such a lack of confidence and self-love that I bury all things that are good to protect a girl that needs no protection. The past is long gone and yet it lingers in the inability to accept love. Even my own love. What use is a sound of strong beating hearts when my own ceases to beat when I let my hope die. I am strong, I am weak, I cant decide how to move. Somewhere my potential resides inside of me. I use to pray, to wish that someone would save me, with a great swoop they would dissolve my insecurities. I thought that if someone would just see me, really see me that they could erase the self-hate. All along I was the one standing dormant in a spiraling world. Asleep at the wheel yet going no where. I have been dragged and pushed and lifted along the way but I stayed grounded in my ignorance that this was MY war. Responsibility lies within my truth, but the connections refuse to entangle within me. How do I learn to let all this go. The answers elude me, my quest is solitary. No one can hope, or love enough for me, outside forces just aren’t enough. No one can will me to live through this, no doctor can revive me its all said and done. I use to think that therapy could save me, that someone else could pay the price for me. That time is past, I oversee my direction, it is lonely wilderness. No direction, no idealistic patron rooting me on. Just me, here, in a flighty pursuit.
I have love in my life that exceeds what I can take in yet I take nothing into my heart, just cognitive recognition. How pointless to have so many blessings, to have great expanses of futuristic journeys, then to have such a lack of confidence and self-love that I bury all things that are good to protect a girl that needs no protection. The past is long gone and yet it lingers in the inability to accept love. Even my own love. What use is a sound of strong beating hearts when my own ceases to beat when I let my hope die. I am strong, I am weak, I cant decide how to move. Somewhere my potential resides inside of me. I use to pray, to wish that someone would save me, with a great swoop they would dissolve my insecurities. I thought that if someone would just see me, really see me that they could erase the self-hate. All along I was the one standing dormant in a spiraling world. Asleep at the wheel yet going no where. I have been dragged and pushed and lifted along the way but I stayed grounded in my ignorance that this was MY war. Responsibility lies within my truth, but the connections refuse to entangle within me. How do I learn to let all this go. The answers elude me, my quest is solitary. No one can hope, or love enough for me, outside forces just aren’t enough. No one can will me to live through this, no doctor can revive me its all said and done. I use to think that therapy could save me, that someone else could pay the price for me. That time is past, I oversee my direction, it is lonely wilderness. No direction, no idealistic patron rooting me on. Just me, here, in a flighty pursuit.
Unnamed
Inside the lines I am colored in there are scribbles of fear and sketches of pain. Circular strokes of winding doom are hues of lifelessness that shadow the light. There is a texture to my façade that goes against the grain, in everyway imperfection confines me. I draw a likeness to an unseen figure, unable to define it I collapse in this vex. The lines are blurred, smeared with ungrateful eyes, messy and ugly, an inappropriate glare.
Outside my surroundings are strange and lifelike yet not enough to evoke a response. Unable to touch them I merely pass by them, in a sensitive path I walk round the unnamed.
Outside my surroundings are strange and lifelike yet not enough to evoke a response. Unable to touch them I merely pass by them, in a sensitive path I walk round the unnamed.
Unconscious
What is there to say? Darkness grasps onto mountains of pain, drenching their majesty in solid slumber. Wars of air and gravity fight in the depths of my lungs, inhale, exhale, sword in, sword out. My mind searches, trying to focus the picture in pin pricks of light. I am captured, encapsulated within my own defenses, in silence I fury, unconscious I fight.
Broken Wings
I hurt, all the time, when unoccupied I am dying. I wonder if this is all worth it? Is my life worth it? I am so alone its not even shar its Sara, she cant even trust me enough to tell me she has a boyfriend? This is insane. I am getting use to being alone, its not so bad. The part that kills me is the finality of the situation without any explanation or reason. The only conclusion is that there is something wrong with me. I am not alone because I choose to be, I am alone because of something less definite. Am I somehow acting out some unfinished bit of the past, an unconscious reconciliation of a past hurt? Or maybe it is simply the fact that I am incapable of having meaningful relationships, maybe I just need too much, love too much, hope for too much, expect too much, trust too much. I do trust too much. Why, why haven’t I learned, by now I should have known better. I shut off after each hurt and then eventually someone new comes along and I trust that this time they really do care for me, they know me, wouldn’t hurt me. See its not just the fact that this is happening, the pain of it, it is the fact that I hate myself for trusting, I hate myself. Of coarse I have to deal, focus on food and hate, body, exercise, more hate, sleep. If I could I would never wake up. I live because I know it is a sin to kill myself, that is it. I just want to
be unconscious, to be free from
this thing that plagues me
Day and night. The hurt never Stops, the replaying of thoughts stops only while I am busy and then they return like an unwanted flood, souring any moment of happiness I have. The bishop promised me in a blessing that in time shar would come to appreciate my friendship, I was relieved at first, but after the blessing I realized this doesn’t solve anything. The thing I want the most is the thing that I cant have. Even in time if she comes around I cant. Each relationship has taken pieces of me, shattered and stolen parts of me, but this time is different than all the others. This time, I broke. My hurt , this hurt, will never be healed regardless of her future actions. This time it is more than just this here and now, this is about the future, this time someone has taken every ounce of trust I had left in me. Nothing will be able to repair it this time. As time went on I knew this was so much more than just hurt, that little girl realized that really no one understands, hears, or knows. I have been betrayed my more than just people, I have betrayed myself. Long ago I realized that no one was going to protect me. I realized in that moment that all I had was myself. Yet that human aching for protection and safety was still a part of me, I spent years stamping it out, but therapy retrained me to be open, to reach out. Yet that betrayal of a little girl could not and cannot be fixed, it is lost time, a lost cause. I don’t think I have ever really believed that anyone would get it, but I kept trying anyway. Why? To torture myself? Or to prove a point? To prove to myself that no matter how much I act like I believe deep down I know its just a game to see if I can get them to love me, to love the mask. But I believe now that I got in too deep, this time I allowed my heart to get in the way. I really believed this time. How could I be so stupid? Its human, it just human. I expect more out of myself than just human, human is weakness and I HATE weakness. Years of abuse, neglect, fear, and loneliness have finally caught up with me, in a way like never before. I was always so distracted with self destructing and avoiding that I didn’t have time to be logical or aware cognitively of myself and others, reality, or seeing my patterns clearly. I wasn’t aware of my past and present enough to put them together. This now is the time. This has hit me like a tornado with out the sirens. I didn’t have time to prepare myself for it this time. My defenses were down and my life is torn to hell. There is no semblance of structure or safety now, I am broken.
be unconscious, to be free from
this thing that plagues me
Day and night. The hurt never Stops, the replaying of thoughts stops only while I am busy and then they return like an unwanted flood, souring any moment of happiness I have. The bishop promised me in a blessing that in time shar would come to appreciate my friendship, I was relieved at first, but after the blessing I realized this doesn’t solve anything. The thing I want the most is the thing that I cant have. Even in time if she comes around I cant. Each relationship has taken pieces of me, shattered and stolen parts of me, but this time is different than all the others. This time, I broke. My hurt , this hurt, will never be healed regardless of her future actions. This time it is more than just this here and now, this is about the future, this time someone has taken every ounce of trust I had left in me. Nothing will be able to repair it this time. As time went on I knew this was so much more than just hurt, that little girl realized that really no one understands, hears, or knows. I have been betrayed my more than just people, I have betrayed myself. Long ago I realized that no one was going to protect me. I realized in that moment that all I had was myself. Yet that human aching for protection and safety was still a part of me, I spent years stamping it out, but therapy retrained me to be open, to reach out. Yet that betrayal of a little girl could not and cannot be fixed, it is lost time, a lost cause. I don’t think I have ever really believed that anyone would get it, but I kept trying anyway. Why? To torture myself? Or to prove a point? To prove to myself that no matter how much I act like I believe deep down I know its just a game to see if I can get them to love me, to love the mask. But I believe now that I got in too deep, this time I allowed my heart to get in the way. I really believed this time. How could I be so stupid? Its human, it just human. I expect more out of myself than just human, human is weakness and I HATE weakness. Years of abuse, neglect, fear, and loneliness have finally caught up with me, in a way like never before. I was always so distracted with self destructing and avoiding that I didn’t have time to be logical or aware cognitively of myself and others, reality, or seeing my patterns clearly. I wasn’t aware of my past and present enough to put them together. This now is the time. This has hit me like a tornado with out the sirens. I didn’t have time to prepare myself for it this time. My defenses were down and my life is torn to hell. There is no semblance of structure or safety now, I am broken.
The deep resonance of a tired mind
The deep resonance of a tired mind. So clearly reverberating against white walled caverns. The sweet scent of despair crawls across my façade, a hint of a smile neatly wrapped for all to see. Where are my eyes? Are they lost searching for a soul inside?
Find me, hold me, rock me, just look without looking, and see me. Can’t you see I’m dying? Who stole the missing piece? I don’t make sense without you.
I pace indirectly towards your memory, lilting, dragging my feet. So painfully drawn to something that should have never been. With you I was sickly whole. My emptiness cradled your fears. So now I search for you in another’s eyes, now I walk alone.
Like a haunting melody, your imprint echoes inside me, cast like a wiry hook and line. I perilously struggle to set myself free; gagging on listless words, choking on the stainless decay. Like a sickness lingering inside me my heart hangs on your absence, your absence defines me.
Tasteless, odorless, poisonous, your memory. I run to the only place that’s mine, hollow heart, whimpering mind, even there you invade.
You know, you felt like home to me.
I've packed up the pictures, set your presence free; I wander around our canvassed walls, collect dust for a living, preserving the inevitable. Relaying, cycling, through each memory drawn to retrace your steps. The worn paths in the carpet, your favorite chair. Here I am after so long realizing your dead, gone, a memory living like a parasite on my broken back.
It’s too heavy to carry, your weighted burdens, your empty words. Clawing my way through the rubble carrying so many moments trying to save myself and save what you left me with.
Ashes,
Dirt
bones so brittle,
who can tell you from this baron place?
This mess is you; it’s us perfected.
Just let it go, you’ll find your way, empty your eyes and empty your pockets. Moving on, repeating the crime, captured inside your wilting sigh, its too much, it’s too late, its too far to run from. Breathing your ashes, letting the sandy tides of you slip through my fingers, gripping gasping you just keep falling, like the sands of time, gravity takes its toll. Buried under the remnants of something sad,
saying softly to myself its time to go,
its time,
its time to let go,
to let bygones be bygones, to stop searching for your imminent shadow. A phoenix flying above the wreckage, born out of the greatest pain, tempered, struck, heavy-laden, free.
Find me, hold me, rock me, just look without looking, and see me. Can’t you see I’m dying? Who stole the missing piece? I don’t make sense without you.
I pace indirectly towards your memory, lilting, dragging my feet. So painfully drawn to something that should have never been. With you I was sickly whole. My emptiness cradled your fears. So now I search for you in another’s eyes, now I walk alone.
Like a haunting melody, your imprint echoes inside me, cast like a wiry hook and line. I perilously struggle to set myself free; gagging on listless words, choking on the stainless decay. Like a sickness lingering inside me my heart hangs on your absence, your absence defines me.
Tasteless, odorless, poisonous, your memory. I run to the only place that’s mine, hollow heart, whimpering mind, even there you invade.
You know, you felt like home to me.
I've packed up the pictures, set your presence free; I wander around our canvassed walls, collect dust for a living, preserving the inevitable. Relaying, cycling, through each memory drawn to retrace your steps. The worn paths in the carpet, your favorite chair. Here I am after so long realizing your dead, gone, a memory living like a parasite on my broken back.
It’s too heavy to carry, your weighted burdens, your empty words. Clawing my way through the rubble carrying so many moments trying to save myself and save what you left me with.
Ashes,
Dirt
bones so brittle,
who can tell you from this baron place?
This mess is you; it’s us perfected.
Just let it go, you’ll find your way, empty your eyes and empty your pockets. Moving on, repeating the crime, captured inside your wilting sigh, its too much, it’s too late, its too far to run from. Breathing your ashes, letting the sandy tides of you slip through my fingers, gripping gasping you just keep falling, like the sands of time, gravity takes its toll. Buried under the remnants of something sad,
saying softly to myself its time to go,
its time,
its time to let go,
to let bygones be bygones, to stop searching for your imminent shadow. A phoenix flying above the wreckage, born out of the greatest pain, tempered, struck, heavy-laden, free.
Opulant Sky
Opulent Sky
My mind is filled with vast extents of toppling terrain.
Emotions roll over each other ,tensely grinding gears on this hill of the present.
I am impatient for arrival though it’s not soon forth coming.
Oh, the day of surrender cannot come too soon.
My body aches, the journey has not been kind,
the path is narrow, the trenches are deep.
The higher I climb the dirtier my knees,
for falling is frequent and prayer is now real.
The heavens shift slowly dragging tides of white, cool waves of clouds disperse unevenly. Life, that vengeful fiend catches my defenses, in all my glory I rise to the fight.
For inside this restless mind and listless body,
this fallible, venerable shell,
I possess a power so great that no man can define it ,
a light so light no hue can compare.
So brilliant this light my own eyes cannot behold,
my skin, tender flesh so embodies this orb.
Extensions of soul grasp this tangible binding,
grounding mounds of earth to the opulent sky.
Whispers of hope, faith, and fears,
human,
Godly,
striving to weave, powerless, endless, empowered, envisioned.
The flesh falleth,
the spirit flies ,
o’er top the wreckage now understanding.
My feet firmly set onto this wavering bridge, life under , joy over,
keep walking, now running.
The journey tarries , so tired my lungs, so long filling.
Stumbling, stumbling.
I know failure leads to faith.
Tragedy is triumph when purpose finds the heart.
Is there no end to this entanglement, is there no end to this trek?
The ledge offers danger but relief in the sight.
Stretches of time, depths of despair,
great valleys of knowledge serene from this view.
So traveled, I rejoice in this place,
examples of potential scattered round about.
Lengths of life so far behind me,
mere outlines, shadows, previously passed.
Breath taking elegance ,this humble portrait, this scene.
So ordained I now see the expanse of my creation,
life so small, so created to fall.
For I know my creator,
I know my King.
I know Gods great plan in my flesh so contained.
My spirit lifts, my soul now surrenders.
I am sifted, refined and bended at will .
I terry, I waver, stand fast in my soul, encapsulated in all this.
The higher I climb the dirtier my knees for falling is frequent and prayer is now real. The heavens shift slowly dragging tides of white, cool waves of clouds disperse unevenly. Life, that vengeful fiend catches my defenses, in all my glory I arise to the fight.
This truth so courses through my veins, this journey impressed upon my skin.
Uneven, imperfect, mapped upon my head.
Heaven knows my story, angels know my name.
Never forgotten, the universe explains,
stars puncture the darkness revealing all to come.
Human, godly, infinitely woven, the patchwork of one great celestial kind.
ReNae Sorenson
Picture by ReNae Sorenson
My mind is filled with vast extents of toppling terrain.
Emotions roll over each other ,tensely grinding gears on this hill of the present.
I am impatient for arrival though it’s not soon forth coming.
Oh, the day of surrender cannot come too soon.
My body aches, the journey has not been kind,
the path is narrow, the trenches are deep.
The higher I climb the dirtier my knees,
for falling is frequent and prayer is now real.
The heavens shift slowly dragging tides of white, cool waves of clouds disperse unevenly. Life, that vengeful fiend catches my defenses, in all my glory I rise to the fight.
For inside this restless mind and listless body,
this fallible, venerable shell,
I possess a power so great that no man can define it ,
a light so light no hue can compare.
So brilliant this light my own eyes cannot behold,
my skin, tender flesh so embodies this orb.
Extensions of soul grasp this tangible binding,
grounding mounds of earth to the opulent sky.
Whispers of hope, faith, and fears,
human,
Godly,
striving to weave, powerless, endless, empowered, envisioned.
The flesh falleth,
the spirit flies ,
o’er top the wreckage now understanding.
My feet firmly set onto this wavering bridge, life under , joy over,
keep walking, now running.
The journey tarries , so tired my lungs, so long filling.
Stumbling, stumbling.
I know failure leads to faith.
Tragedy is triumph when purpose finds the heart.
Is there no end to this entanglement, is there no end to this trek?
The ledge offers danger but relief in the sight.
Stretches of time, depths of despair,
great valleys of knowledge serene from this view.
So traveled, I rejoice in this place,
examples of potential scattered round about.
Lengths of life so far behind me,
mere outlines, shadows, previously passed.
Breath taking elegance ,this humble portrait, this scene.
So ordained I now see the expanse of my creation,
life so small, so created to fall.
For I know my creator,
I know my King.
I know Gods great plan in my flesh so contained.
My spirit lifts, my soul now surrenders.
I am sifted, refined and bended at will .
I terry, I waver, stand fast in my soul, encapsulated in all this.
The higher I climb the dirtier my knees for falling is frequent and prayer is now real. The heavens shift slowly dragging tides of white, cool waves of clouds disperse unevenly. Life, that vengeful fiend catches my defenses, in all my glory I arise to the fight.
This truth so courses through my veins, this journey impressed upon my skin.
Uneven, imperfect, mapped upon my head.
Heaven knows my story, angels know my name.
Never forgotten, the universe explains,
stars puncture the darkness revealing all to come.
Human, godly, infinitely woven, the patchwork of one great celestial kind.
ReNae Sorenson
Picture by ReNae Sorenson
Sweet Partings
I am truly grateful for the ability to reason with myself, to think freely and somewhat, sometimes sanely. I am grateful for the ability to see beyond and through my circumstances and difficulties to see the underlying psycho-drama that’s being played out. I am grateful to be able to rest easy without any reassuring close, close relationships. I have ties to people its true, I love many and am loved by many but am not fully enveloped by any. I wonder though if this is what it should be like and what I had before was abnormal. Super close relationships totally entrusting my deepest secrets to people who were incapable of holding them with any care. I am grateful for emotionless partings, or the emotion of satisfaction in parting that allows me to move on unapologetically. As the saying goes parting is such sweet sorrow, or in this case the sweet absence of sorrow.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Scarlet Tears
How faint the brutal smell of this burning wreckage so cleverly hidden, the timbers smolder grounding their faith. Smoking and choke on the fumes of discontent, all hands on deck I’m just a disaster. So you want to know me, don’t look in my eyes, just focus on the deem patina of my speckled disguise. I’m one who knows enough to get by, just enough by step you and run. Why is it my hands reach with out reaching, I mean what is the purpose of me extending a friendly fisted hand shake? I mean I look for answers in another’s company, the answer repeats "you’re better off alone". it’s a crying shame my tears are so salty, I’m too damn human if you ask me. What is this chest heaving that sorely soothes me, never heaving it pulses just beneath the surface. Not present enough to release me, not sufficiently controlled. My wrists cry, my hips sigh, save me from myself. Oh the lengthy road one condemned must follow, so many circles, so many cells, white walls. Imagine just one day of freedom. It says something when the essence of a being begins to wonder if running might be better without a soul. Unencumbered I could fly to any given hell, unweighted by my moralistic mind. Could victory then be sweet? Could I even feel my relief? Would I enter in if then I am not whole enough to keep myself together? Pulled from the inside out, navel, neck and knees, grounded in prayer. Thwarted, noosed, I’ve got me again. My twisted fate my own twisted creation. Crave ReNae, reach, be alone, quick run. B e safe, don’t breathe, get caught, get going. Look for someone screwed up enough to understand, tell all your secrets and wait for the end. How brutal that burning smell that covers the stench of my hellish yell. Ashes settle in my tired lungs. Posted inside me all those sorrows sung.
Caverns
The view is of uncompromising stature, greater than that of my whimsical grasp. Outside my door rages the demon soul snatcher, outside wait’s a dangerous road. I have traveled over many mounds of earth, stepped over, fallen through, and dived into what can only be simply described as a hell of a different kind. One where demons are self-created. The stuff that nightmares are made of. I have done my best to run, to cross myself with unholy protection. The binding of a cursed body has held me together while ripping my soul, undoing my stitching. My silent nature has hidden the forbidden paths into my mind, yet my inner screams can be heard echoing through the empty caverns of ribs and spine. Oh that the tender flesh that embodies so many secrets could be set free to experience guilt free living, to become something other that what it is. Oh to be juxtaposed with my own intolerance, to be studied by a more understanding self. How that little girl cries inside, innocence tainted, tears torn from and thrown to nothingness. She is naked, can you see beyond? She is bleeding can you mend what is beyond mending?
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