Close enough

I cried out mercy and an added hour
I sought out fairytales and provoked hallucinations to deter
Please reflect, deflect, respect my ignorance
I’ll never name it by bliss; terror neither though close enough

October 7, 2021

More trauma, more anger. You’d always ask if I was mad at you. Was it not what you wanted when we repeated “No”. You had to go and get yourself killed. Well now you have it. I am so f****** mad at you, and I hope you know it. I’m so angry at you, and I feel at the core I always have been. I’m pissed off at this soulless body. Explain the voices or rather the voice of you that haunts my mind attempting to console me after destroying me. I’m not enough, and nothing I ever do for anybody will ever be. 

How could you not stay here for me, for X. My sun adored you and you left him. That same day I texted you a picture of him and told you about how I see you in him. How could you abandon us in this way. We saw each other all summer, you pulled up to my house whenever you wanted. I gave you allcolades told you I was proud. You were doing better, wanted to be a father, a grandpa, and you did your best. So why didn’t you fight for us, why didn’t you protect yourself, why didn’t you open your eyes and count your blessings. 

Right now I sit beside you and you are unresponsive and I swear you’re here because your vessels reflexes are acting up. The way you continue to see right on through all the love that surrounds you is nothing different than how you denied it our whole lives. Maybe we were truly your problem, maybe I. Never good enough.

Honestly f*** you. Though I still wish you peace, just know I won’t have it.

I’m sorry too. You said you’d be here, that if I needed anything… My whole life, you just keep breaking my heart

May 18, 2017

I watched the Nina Simone documentary yesterday and I have never felt more reflected. She is the most beautiful woman. Her rawness and vulnerable ways I admire. I feel myself. Pieces of myself I don’t recognize. I see that it’s okay to embrace the darkness. I’ve been living in a fantasy. Paired with the article I read about how unhealthy it can be to live a life in which one strives for positive thinking while ignoring and not accepting negative emotions. I need that rawness, but I’m scared I’ll go back to that dark sad space. So I bury that emotion and pretend to be positive. I’m finding all these emotions blowing up in my face. I need to learn that it’s okay to be sad, mad, and even angry. And to feel it. Feel it all. I need to feel it. Maybe that’s my lesson, to be honest about the way I feel.

I feel I’ve lied to myself in a sense. Using phrases like “everything happens for a reason” and “wabi Sabi” and Buddhist philosophy to transform my thoughts. Although wise; in my case, I find myself on auto pilot on the other side of the spectrum, lying about how I truly feel, coping with addictions. I think I’m ready to embrace ALL of my feelings. Come out the dark side, Mama wants to play. I want to get to know my dark side.

August 12, 2015

I need a soul to look at. No stimulation stems from rocks. I enjoy my shadows. We dance together in dead streets. We like to hold hands and create tornadoes. In the hands of relation and this chaotic lifeless shapeless home.

Natural disaster

After the storm
He cries
Having no honor in his display

So she lays around lighting sage like it’s a cigarette
He sweats now not understanding
He likes to talk
She likes to walk
She pretends she doesn’t feel his stutters
And he denies she knows where he comes from
Not knowing himself from the outside
He is

A natural disaster