Peace

I am filled.

Something warm, soft, and full.

I sit outside.

The air is crisp.

The chill does nothing to lessen the heat within.

Purity.

Acceptance.

Love.

All of these words hint at all that's inside,

Yet none describe

Quite well enough.

I can feel.

I'd forgotten what that was like.

I'd gotten so used to living in a dull grayscape,

I didn't realize all of the colors I had been missing.

As the season turns, 

I transform.

I can fly now.

What I didn't know

Was that I had wings all along.

I am finding that the mountain I was climbing,

Doesn't have to be so daunting.

With gentle hands, I was shown,

The mountain is little more than a molehill.

Words are flowing now.

A dam now unblocked,

Letting free what I didn't know was trapped.

Life is good.

I didn't know that I had forgotten what good was.

Now I know.

Now I know, and I am so fucking grateful.

I am grateful.

I am at peace.

Dirty Dishes

Cups on the table
Old
Crusty

A fly sits
On the lip
Of one

I'm disgusted

Not with the mess
But with
Myself

I can't move

I'm paralyzed

I think of that fly

It feeds on scraps

A scavenger

I am covered in flies

I am a scrap of myself

A scrap of what I once was

These dirty dishes
Piled
Covered in mold

I'm disgusted

Even if I clean them
Scrub them under boiling water
They are still tainted

I am still

Tainted

i want to scream

There's so much.

Too much.

Rampaging.

A vortex within me.

I'm scared.

So fucking scared.


Is she better?

Am I not enough?

Will I ever be enough?


I am a failure

Of epic proportion.


Broken.

A barren landscape,

With only echoes

Of what once was

Lush.


She is a garden.

Pure.

Full.

Kind.


I am a coward.

Perhaps,

I should step back.

Let two

Beautiful creatures

Find each other.


I am selfish.

You're mine.

Fuck you.

I love you.


I do not

Express in words aloud,

The words that come

So easily

To paper.


Is that it?

I am not open to feeling?


I have given.

I have spoken.

I have completely dismantled

My box,

My cage,

My comfort.

I have done this

For you.


I have changed

Fundamentally.

I have learned

Immensely.

All so you can feel sure

That I love you.


I do.

I love you with every breath

Born of my abused lungs.

I love you with every absent

Brush of hands.

I love you with every freckle,

I hate,

But you adamantly claim are cute.


I love you.

With every year that passes.

With every star I ponder.

With every raindrop that falls.

I love you.


I am selfish.

I want to scream.

I cannot be selfish with you.

You

Who are so kind and giving.

I cannot take

From you

What might be your happiness.


I love you.

I want to scream.

Instead, I will sew

These sinful lips

Shut.

I will love.

And perhaps, I will lose.

Ramblings of a Self-Titled Crazy

I'm empty.


I feel

Nothing.


And yet,

The sun rises

Each

Day.


Even if,

Nobody

Appreciates her.


The wind

Blows

Even if it

Brings tears to eyes.


Relentless.


Nature is a force.


Sometimes we forget.


We forget we are a part of nature.


We forget that fires rage as strong as our anger.

We forget that the oceans teem with repressed emotion.

We forget that mountains rise under the pressure of the earth shifting, just as we rise under impossible circumstance

We forget.

We are nature.


And I will rise each day.


I will not be defined

By illness.


I will soar

Higher.


I will scream

Louder.


I will forgive

My mind.


I will forgive

Myself.


I am not broken.

I never was.


I just hadn't found the pieces of myself to begin with.


And now.




Now, I am whole.

I Am Woman

I am 

Strength.

I am

Peace.

I am

Wildfire.

I am

Raging ocean storms.

I am 

Solid.

I am 

Complete.

I am

Not

Depression.

I am 

Not

Anxiety.

I am

Not

Meltdowns.

I am

Not

Tears.

I am

Getting back up.

I am

Pulling myself together.

I am 

Mending 

The broken tapestry

That is my soul.

I am.

I am

Woman.

Numb

I am numb.

I have nothing.

I am surrounded

In fog.


The moment

When you first wake

And the world isn't

Entirely

Clear.


That is my

Entire

Life.


Yes,

I take

Medication.


Yes,

I practice

Meditation.


Yes,

I take

Deep

Deep

Deep

Breaths.


But when

Your brain

Is your

Enemy,


How will anything

Ever help

You finally

Win?

Bomb

My mind is a bomb.

Laden with numbness,

Sadness,

And anger.

It ticks. 

I feel nothing.

My emotions wrapped

In a fog 

That only small

White

Capsules

Can penetrate.

They help.

And yet.

It ticks.

With each tock,

A new thought

Is spewed out

By anxiety.

You aren't good 

Enough.

You'll never be good

Enough.

You'll never be

Enough.

Tick.

I wait.

Knowing this is the calm 

Before

The storm.

Soon.

Tick.

Tock.

Soon,

My screams will rise as high

As mountains.

My tears will fill depths

Lower than oceans.

My tremors will

Shake the very core of

The earth.

Tick. 

Tock.

Tick.

I can't breathe,

The dreading anticipation.

It fills me,

To the point,

No oxygen can pierce my 

Lungs.

Enough.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

I can't.

I can't.

I can't.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

So much.

Too much. 

I can't.

My mind is a bomb.

And it waits.

He

He was a beautiful mistake.

He was Roman god carved

In human skin.


His lush hair,

So thick,

Grasped between my desperate fingers.


His spring leaf eyes,

Holding mine

The way a mother holds her newborn.


His tattered copy of Alice in Wonderland.

Prophetic of how

I would feel when it was all

Done.


His hands.

Strong.

Big.

Yet gentle,

As a hatchling.


His skin,

God, his skin,

Smooth and toned,

An olive brown,

Silky under my touch,

Strong under his effort.


His voice.

Deep, melodic,

And yet empty.

His voice.

The reason I left.


He wanted me to be his savior.


I wish I could've shown him

That the only one who can save you

Is

Yourself.


But

I

hadn't

learned

that

myself.


He broke.

I wept.

We yearned.


But he chose

White candy

Over me.


I offered space.


He chose seperation.


He chose.


I chose.


Loss.


He.