we had the same conversations like it was yesterday
i wore blue for days and days straight
i wore all my fibers as you
i knew you were blue too
i fasted
i was corrupt
you wouldn’t let my burn touch a thing
you laughed in the face of it
Sacred Beauty, Silent Battles
I was taught to be beautiful, no matter what I was going through.
A sacred ritual passed down—lipstick, clean clothes, perfume. Even in despair, my outer world had to glow. I’ve mastered the art of seeming fine.
High-functioning depression means I show up glowing—
even when I’m collapsing on the inside.
Because I was taught: no matter how you feel, look good so no one would know.
People assume I’m okay because I look okay.
Because I’m pretty. Because I dress well. Because I smile. Because I post.
But that’s the mask. That’s the part I learned young:
if you look put together, maybe no one will ask too many questions.
My mother raised and instilled in me to always show up looking good—no matter what. And so I did. Even when I was quietly dealing with depression, eating disorders, suicidal thoughts/attempts, a bottomless abyss of self-hate etc. I never wanted anyone to know. I just wanted to survive.
And now that I’m older that’s backfired. Now when I say, “I’m not okay,” people respond with, “But you look so good.”
As if beauty is proof of wellness.
As if pain can’t wear lipstick.
Not all sadness screams.
Some of it moves quietly—wrapped in silk, masked with laughter, walking through the world unnoticed.
High-functioning depression is being praised for your strength, carrying sorrow with elegance. All the while drowning in silence.
It’s shining bright, yet being invisible because you’ve mastered the art of seeming fine.
It’s exhausting.
Funny
Laughing hyenas have misunderstandings and particular landings
As the way that I move
It’s too smooth you say
Much too runny
Masked in funny
An instrument for disaster
Their hidden laughter
Wades
Through the Carnivora
Beyond the many wishes
So I beg to land in forgiveness
To set in stone my sins to flesh and
Move from what’s told to win again
Thirsty
I’ve perished
They told me so
A few times
I’m tongue tied
A thing in the undercurrent
A hole in one
When I woke I was thirsty
An insatiable existence
I know I’ll be punished
I know it’s a sin
Out
Spread out
To disappear
I’m distracted
My mind’s not near
My mind’s tuned in
Tuned out
I’m not walking forward
Spaced out
I’m a broken clock
A broken record
And I’m upside-down
Fruit
He poured some passion
Plucked me as fruit
I was healthy; a milky way
His sweet comfort
His wild girl
A bud turned bloom in his hands
Winners war
I’m not sure of what I am feeling, my heart can break, my ego; callous
What keeps me asleep is a range to run
Emotional in wake I bake the sun
Holes of bittersweet spit up, you nuzzling my breast till numb
Turning in, on and off
Tuning off, out and in
I attempt to sing those sensitive songs, I pretend with oneself, playing once upon a time
There’s no where to go as my soul is magnetic to your salvation, even here the space of our bodies deafening
I don’t know exactly why this fight takes flight, ideal is a winners war; no casualties
December 16, 2019
X grounds me. Like black tourmaline, my protector. My heart can’t take it.
I can’t help to think that X is purposely trying to take my peace. Sabotage me. Maybe it’s intentional, maybe it’s not, but I’m going to explode. Trying to figure out how to leave this situation. Being grateful for the space, but also it’s unhealthy. I am uncomfortable, and it’s difficult to enforce my boundaries. I need space from him. Not that I have to explain myself.
Why am I still here, I’m trying hard to not be. He does nothing, no passion, motive, drive. I’ve been sad, beating myself up for ending up here. I’m not happy nor comfortable. And I feel like it’s cause I’m not aligned. Something off.
Remember healing isn’t linear…
I think it’s crazy how my rape…
I know I haven’t healed…
X ain’t shit…
I will not fall in love with someone who doesn’t…
The masculine have alot of work to do.
They are so broken, twisted, toxic.
I also have to recognize that this is my perception, my experience, my reflection.
Only thing I can do is continue to work on myself. I wanna beat myself up for ignoring the signs.
I have all the answer within me.
I think I just need to cry.
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.
Freegrandmaa 