Drying Drops of Love.

Such articulated truths,
Much anticipated moves,
Beneath the sky,
I wonder why,
What’s the fucking use?


To know you pondered aloud,
The wonder of something you found,
In the wake of,
Drying drops of my love,
You cast your chance around.


How could it surprise you?
When none of it was really new,
No profound sensations,
To feed such ruminations,
As the shit that you cyber-spew.


Wow…but it’s nothing new,
Now your choices strike back at you?
Fool me twice,
Against all advice,
The venom in my veins courses blue.


You’ve cloned and cookie cut my dreams,
You’ve proven nothing is ever what it seems,
Fists up to you,
Untried and untrue,
The likes of you can’t fuck with me.

Today’s Beautiful Discovery

3rd member announcementI’d like to drag an index finger across my fully recovered throat for the most recently discovered Diamond in the Rough, and very celebrated newest member of the growing Cut-Throat Club Online – a place where the spirit of the struggling Survivor is acknowledged in full.

The following is an excerpt is from her blog; in my opinion, this small piece of her written thoughts – this snapshot of her brave struggle – bleeds the essence of the survivor for whom I hold the utmost appreciation and respect. This excerpt is a testament to her status of what I consider to be the epitome of a truly “cut-throat” soldier of the survivor clan – and I’m proud to welcome her talented presence into the club.

The first thing that caught my eye on her blog:

“I have borderline personality disorder, but I am not my diagnosis. I am a loving, sweet and kind person. I want to help others, I want to explore the world and make people happy.”

The piece that sealed her fate as a “Cut-Throat”:

 

“….The few months following her death were a blur, I guess I went to classes, I have the degree to prove I did. My heart wasn’t in it, my head wasn’t in it. I isolated myself, angry at every one. What’s the point of even leaving this bed if every one I love will leave me? I longed to lay down in the dirt where she was left, for two weeks, I longed to somehow drift away into a peaceful death where I could be with her. 

It’s been a little over six months and it’s not easier, but it is different. I ache for her every morning when I wake up. I dream she’s still with me, before my rational brain screams “she’s dead” in my ear and I’m woken up with a jolt. The abandonment is real, there is only loss, but I’m learning to love and cherish the good. I’m learning to use my grief to motivate my own life….”

 

I’m so very glad to welcome:

Miss “Inconsistently Yours”

Surviving like a Soldier over at:

http://inconsistentlyyours.wordpress.com/