Begin to End 

They want you to do what’s best for you until that best excludes them, leaves them behind, or can’t be satisfied by just them. When you need more because everything you had is destroying you, so you have no option but to start over or die as more pieces of yourself are razored away into faux stretch marks. When your own hands need to be left behind because they leave marks of darkness across your “perfect skin”, and your mind needs to be left behind because it tells you everyday you’ll never make it without jumping off the edge, without burning everything around you to the ground, or without watching as everything melts like crayons under the Las Vegas Sun. 

Bleeding until it’s all mixed. Into something beautiful? Something abstract? Something that hardens and becomes twisted from the original rainbow of beauty? The most beautiful things can turn into something you don’t recognize when the damage becomes too much, when the paper holding it together weakens, the beauty leaks out, oils stain the paper, even when what made it beautiful is gone, it’s never forgotten. How can it be when that’s the only reason it was ever wanted. 

What is this twisted thing, feet dangling, hands gripping the rail, mind miles down searching the ground for answers never found. How long to hit rock bottom, to begin again or embrace the end. To rise again or leave the splatter of color trailing into the sea and soaking the fallen leaves. 

Don’t want the world to know I’m by myself…don’t want the world to know I’m on your shelf…There’s no coloring around us anymore

– Coloring by Kevin Garrett

Compulsion

I can feel you, right above my skin, the warmth

of your need makes me shake a spearmint

breeze, that hollow ache is there, in the pit

of my stomach, waiting to be filled by you over

and over again. I close my eyes, darkness giving way

to images of you caressing me. The smell of your

skin, the taste of the sheets, my hands reach out, wishing

you were within reach. I feel the tightness release and

tighten again, wanting something to hold onto. Imagining

the moan you would make, brings my own, it’s been torture.

Images of things I haven’t yet seen plague me, raise my

curiosity like the arch I want you to put in my back. A

few touches have me scorched. Any time I remember

where your hands met skin, it sweats, burns even. I

feel it like a trail of hard earned sweat running

between my breasts and into my navel. I feel it

like hands pressed against my hips to keep me

angled just right on the bed. My thighs

shake, remembering the sight of your

head between them, imagining the

feeling of what could have come

from those lips. My toes point

giving me more movement

to arch, to reach you, to

reach what I want to

feel; to release.

Disguise

Love is freedom, the real thing, right now just feels like barely flying with half clipped wings, made it through the storm, fought for my piece of quiet on an island of chaos and poor choice. Took off, hoping to soar, felt the circuit in the air, engorged on the wave. Yet the oil hit important things, pulled me to surface, below, sinking even as water tried to arrest it from me. Again, thought to be free, the promise of sunlight encouraged me. But it wasn’t sunlight, just the glint of a predators eyes, the flick of a weapon used to distract my true eyes, never seeing past its’ disguise. I grew gills. Who needs the sun, the air, who wants to fly when the flicker of different captures your soul. 

Like all constant lights, when there is no wane, no wax, there is no reality. It betrayed me. Attached to the fatty parts and slowly ate from me. When I realized I could barely swim, fins half eaten, belly trailing the ocean floor, whatever was left of the sinew, I remembered what it was to soar. Slowly, lifted, dragging him with me, hoping even still, instead of gills and fins, I could teach him to glide above the waves. The trickle of warmth sped my return, even though the weight was a burden. Harder he bit, my heart all that was left, I could feel the rays, knew I was almost safe. 

The surface welcomed me, sun asked where I had been, moon told me to never hide again. The rain kissed me repeatedly, it missed the flavor of my skin, the wind caressed me, filling holes retracing the pattern of who I had been. I left him. The waves pulled us apart. The elements knew, he had a piece of my heart. They knew gills would always tempt me, and my heart would falsely lead me, so his gills never changed, his focus stayed the same, before he was out of sight, he set his flicker to falsely set another aflame. 

Mistaken

All you wanted was for someone to love you for you, but you hid behind the make up of someone well put together, lied with your eyes, with secrets; the words unspoken. What you needed, you received, still not enough for you to leave the past to die, falling to your knees, you let the beast ride, tumbling from the path where you wanted to be, the blindness, blood loss, mental fatigue led you to crawl upon the brambles.

Her voice spoke softly, her hands caressed, attempted to pull you, wipe your eyes, allow your head to rest upon her breast. Just for you to wake, pull at her hair, enter her mouth and yoke her heart from it’s strings. Starved you feed, mind in a haze, knowing only that you wish to be full; that she makes you full.

Not enough, you take her eyes, even as she holds sight for the end of your journey, who you could be, would be if you changed course, let go of the beast, and walked on your own two feet. Not enough, your hands in her womb, the life she was ready to give, you pull until a tunnel of life sheds a skin. Like a rabid thing, you drink until there is no yoke.

Your 4 eyes, belly full of life, those feet you couldn’t stand on, gain strength. How could they not.

Relationships: 2

Communication.

Labels.

Ironic, how without labels, it seems the communication is where it needs to be. Equally more ironic, is how complicated communicating gets once a label is added to the equation. Often makes me wonder why even get into a relationship. Why not just stay friends.

The guessing games get old, the passive aggressive comments, posts, or attitudes get old. Everything that doesn’t actually HELP the situation, but adds more stress, is old. I’ve been down that route so many times with old relationships that I’ve realized, finally, I don’t have the tolerance for it. Never really have, yet I allowed myself to continue dealing with it. Among the many other things I allowed myself to deal with, after my last go around of lessons learned, I knew that communication and trust are literal BASICS.

Without those two things, what’s the point? And if you can’t be honest, if you can’t talk, if you can’t explore an issue with your partner, then why be with that person. Why not be with someone you can talk to, even when it’s hard, even when it’s frustrating? I mean, I get it. I honestly do. People assume that I love real communication. That I love handling things head on, but in all reality I HATE IT. I simply suck it up and DO IT because it is NECESSARY. I don’t LIKE conflict, I’m just good at working through it. People automatically assume that means you like it, and that you always want to deal with it.

I dislike it so much I don’t even know how to appropriately express it, but do you know what I dislike even more? Hard feelings, spitefulness, lack of communication, and passive aggressive bs that prolong simple issues (or even big issues). Just suck it up, say what needs to be said, and handle it. This is for dating relationships and other relationships, I just don’t get why people can’t see that clearly.

Bearing Fruit

I wandered into you, seeking a place to

lay my head, a harbor to dock my

soul, a ground, sturdy enough to

grow my roots, I felt my way through

weeds, traveled un-tarred roads, fell

into bramble patches that scarred the

depths of my soul. So much so, my

nomadic roots cannibalized tears to make

dew in starved lands.

 

You saw my journey, roots hanging by

fibers, some dried to bone, you took the

sheers and preened them off, made room for

new roots, spoke life, shed love, watched it gather,

and gave nourishment to many times refurbished

joints. Laid with me a porous sponge. Said you would

bury your doubts, and fears, pray for something new, more

fresh, clean, something to build you when you

eat.

 

Fears and doubts soaked into my roots, mixed

with the harshness created from the roaming

genes. Attacked by antibodies, wrapped and

swallowed whole, those fears lost, the doubts

were re-purposed into dreams, not deferred but

renewed. I waited for the first  bud, and lost

leaves, shaking, anxious, waiting for you to see

the expected fruit.

 

You ran your hands through, felt the smooth

skin, admired the shine and give, you plucked your

choice, said it resembled a lasting sin, took a bite, closed

your eyes, reminisced, and saw new beginnings. Fear to

hope, while thoughts of death spoke now to food for your

soul. Your thumb and forefinger met, separated by thin

cased fluid you gifted to flow, I watched the thought, saw

it grow, knew I would stay watered, you needed the fruit.

You needed to be whole.

Tired

How can any relationship, friendship, dating even family, function or have healthy longevity when one person thinks the other needs no one.

That’s how people seem to see me. I’m this statue that doesn’t need help, love, or other people to lean on. Just like a statue, people admire you, they wish they could be as “valued”, as “sought after”. They can appreciate your beauty, but they don’t really understand what made you that way. And we all know how things go when you have your favorite thing. You can’t put it down, and when you finally do, you never pick it back up.

But I’m not a statue. Me being a strong person has never negated my need for the same love, affection, or support that others receive. Me being strong is the result of not having those things, of being afraid, abused, mistreated, and told no one would ever love me. I’m strong because people were so unreliable and because I had to be; have to be.

I just don’t understand how people can look at that strength and use it as a reason to abandon me, treat me poorly, or constantly make me have to stand alone. Strength does not equate to heartless. It does not equate to not feeling pain or suffering. It just equates to me being able to ALWAYS make it through. That I ALWAYS fight.

Random Thoughts

I am a thinker, a chronic thinker.

I store comments like a squirrel and nuts. Like that one from Ice Age that just can’t let that one nut go.

It can be a bad thing, as it can prevent me from moving on from a situation, but it can also be a good thing.

Like an 🐘 I horde things in my mind. A pack 🐀 of unnecessary things. But then there are the treasures.

All the times he calls me sweetheart, opens up his heart and mind to me, compliments me, or special moments in general, those are what I call the highlight reel.

I sometimes get sad often. And I use these reels to help me. They calm me, give me things to look forward to, motivate me to conquer whatever is pulling me down.

Its important, positive reinforcement, telling someone you see the growth in them. My sister commented on one of my posts here, and whenever I need a boost, I go back and read her comment. I look at her sincerity and I meditate on her encouragement.

Or my daughter. A simple “i love you ma” changes the course of my emotional state. Its a reminder that not only am I cared for, but I have responsibilities. I have to work hard not just for me but for my friends and family so that we can get better collectively.

Be encouraged.
Find the little things.
Hold on to them.
Because when things get hard, the little things add up, a foundation is built, and before you know it, you’re elevated amd elated.

Wild Child

You speak to me, spirit to spirit, you
recognize yourself in my words, when
your spirit connects to mine we run free. You
allow me, I allow you, together, ride the waves,
let them pass, back to rest, we give space
to be, not too much, enough, with
time to grow, just not apart.

Your soul is the fire I’ve been looking for, lost
I was seeking, jumping, running from candle to
candle, when I needed a raging fire, a great typhoon, a
tranquil forest, somewhere I could burn, drown, and renew
my mind body soul. With no qualms you engulfed me,
tore me apart, planted seeds, and watered them.

Love and positivity, no nonsense
words spoken to ignite me, change
of mindset, you entice me. You are
my fresh air in the midst of sparkly pollution.
No greener the grass, give me that smile, those
lips, the depths of those eyes, that hide behind
the fear of me seeing the man beneath.

But I see you, with clarity that you grant
me, time and time again when you show
the root of my love, your heart, a man seeking,
diving for treasures left untouched.

https://open.spotify.com/track/1GWVyqmjhJkUfqaJwUk8Xi

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