October 15, 2018

I pray this is the last time I have to break my mothers heart… I can’t think of anything… What is the way? I’m trying to make a relationship work, everything in me tells me it’s wrong, but something is telling me not to give up.

The most difficult part of healing is the era right before the climax when the voices begin to sound the same and you must learn discernment. It becomes a strain to hear the truth; to know right from wrong.

This baby inside me is right, right?

What am I going to do?

Prepare for either and decide later I suppose.

I really need to show up for myself now. I have to prove to myself that I can do it, that I will be a successful mother. That I can be me. Whoever that is.

I pray to find myself.

Iridescent flesh

Oh iridescent flesh

what reveal you of me

oh moon eyes you never cast a blink

so nodding

accepting

the picture so loving

the picture of bristle fingertips

how high will you go to count

those of others those of mother’s

Oh patches of wild

you may never be read but all passes

all too soon starts anew

One day

One day see the fruits of my labor
Miracle after miracle
How lightly I’ll float by
I’m sure I wouldn’t even recognize
How slow my mind processes
I’ve been keeping my eyes to myself
Can’t see me
Refuse to see
One day I’ll be a shooting star and won’t be able to help but notice.
I won’t even be able to stop; catch a glance or nothing
The collisions will simply be an after thought as I’m smoking a winter spliff

I often find myself

surrounded by

books and papers

lovers expansion