Ungodly Deep.

Trust and believe, the total and complete –
lack of any kind of silver lining,
in the fuck-of-a-mess that’s buried me,
is hardly lost on the cost of things;
it’s a game that runs perpetually –
it’s a death march to most certain defeat,
a defeat that will find me, inevitably;
a Speed Metal drummer keeps beat, accordingly,
that hammers my chest with anxiety,
welds to the ankle bones of both my tired feet:
anchors that will sink the likes of me quickly,
kicking and screaming until I’m sleeping peacefully,
a slow-motion fall to the trench of the sea –
like a feather pushed out of a high-speed Jet-stream,
like a bowed ballerina after tip-toed dancing,
a deep, dark blue silence that calls me from deep;
faces of creatures swim in, brimmed with curiosity,
to glimpse the resistance of my sinking body,
to the darkness of what’s unknown to me;
the end of my descent comes too finally –
the anchors have found me a permanent thing,
and so it goes that it may just very well be:
that all the hurt and guilt and all the years of misery,
brought me to a resting place so dark, it’s ungodly,
to counter in death the heights life has shown to me.

River.

I’ve got this thing,
attached to the feathers
of my tattered, right wing;
it’s tickling and itching…
causing me to careen;
through the air,
in disrepair;
everyone down there
watching me.
I’ve got this weight,
that drags my feet
in reverse, towards my fate;
it’s beckoning and ordering…
that I bow down, and subjugate;
kiss the toes,
belonging to those;
who refuse to let me go
and be free.
I’ve got these eyes,
tuned to a frequency
that perfectly filter the lies;
barreling and swooping…
along, at their’ sides;
so invisibly,
no one else can recognize
but I see.
I’ve got this shrapnel splinter,
burrowed deeply into my skin
through summer, spring, fall and winter;
humbling, digging deep,
all it takes to make a slice, is a sliver;
moon hanging,
above the raging river
bleeding all over me.

Hardwired.

“…love was as hardwired into the structure of the universe as gravity and matter.”
– Dan Simmons, The Rise of Endymion

 

Love is not knowing, but jumping in anyway.
Love is the feeling of stitches dissolving in your skin.
Love is the smile of an innocent child in the grips of wonder.
Love is a giant, canine bearing sea-lion being afraid of you.
Love is sunshine.
Love is an all-encompassing acceptance that changes your DNA.
Love is hoping against all logic or reason.
Love is being the first face to come into view, every time.
Love can be tangible.
Love can be fickle.
Love can bring us to our knees, in many different variances.
Love will NEVER leave us alone.
Love is darkness.
Love is light.
Love is the answer as well as the question in languages that humanity does not yet speak.
Love may be a language that humanity as we know it never learns.
Love was the mother of all Hatred.
Love is the force behind all of it, everything.
Love bore Mother Earth, the Sun, and every star.
Love is God. God is a Goddess. The Goddess falls back in Love.
Love can conquer all.
Love doesn’t necessarily want to conquer all.
And lastly,

When I didn’t love Love,

it loved Me, Anyway.

A Better Look.


Ask me if it means a thing,

the words, the time, the memories,

ask me how it seems to be,

that my gentle soul goes cold so easily,

ask me about who I used to be,

the one who was betrayed so thoroughly,

ask how much that continues to sting,

ask about a heart that bleeds perpetually,

ask me why it is that I can’t seem,

to understand the concept of fidelity,

ask how my heart came to be so mean,

when I’ve before, been treated cruelly,

ask why it is that I behave so quizzically,

the feelings, the actions, the ADHD,

ask how you’re supposed to perceive,

such things in the face of brutal honesty,

ask me about my isolated misery,

the trust issues and embedded insecurity,

ask me to be a “normal” human being,

and I’ll tell you to take a better look at me.

 

 

 

 

Sinking Me.

Have you ever felt its slice? …
Never seen the flash of light? …
Weren’t you there –?
a winding road up –
to absolutely nowhere…
indulge me with your disguise;
who is to say
stupid or wise? –
I’d made up my weary mind,
treading circles in square boxes
has been suiting you just fine;
I got up off my knees,
walked away
no goodbye –
I haven’t the energy, or time;
My darling, it’s gotten old,
tired and spent
like a tooth filled with gold;
soft enough to give with force,
and allow its form to shape new mold,
but too hardened at the edges,
scarred deeply
by tragedy –
carved in her skin in big bold;
the slice that you refuse to see,
the load you aren’t willing to pull
in turn with me,
You’re sinking me.

Solo.

What is it that I am always doing so wrong?

Examples aplenty on a list far too long,

the Gods were at odds on the day I was born,

there’s no rhythm at all to such a raw theme song;

Who it is that I am always trying so hard to be?

Far too many deficits to cover up cosmetically,

existence has become a painful part of reality,

while persistence has cursed and forsaken me;

Where was I expecting to eventually find myself?

Lost inside of a pressurized ideal of someone else,

a multi-faceted turnstile to open the gates of Hell,

a revolving mirrored door that doesn’t work too well;

What is it that I am always trying to prove?

A stranger to the things that the normal people do,

anger and resentment, with deep abandonment issues,

keenly aware of the fact that I epitomize The Recluse.

A Strongly Opposing Inability.

It’s true:

I am a precariously teetering creature; fragile, on the edge between the ability to cope and survive, and a strongly opposing inability.

_

 

I’m good at allowing people to assume that I am “normal”;

I don’t know how to reach out to others for comfort or support;

I was born anti-social, and Life’s experiences have only hammered this trait irretrievably deep into my being, in turn;

I am honestly not sure how long anyone can make it in Life behind a facade before finally just coming undone;

I have realized that I am running on empty – and have been for some time now – and am puzzled in stomach-wrenching way by the fact that I haven’t sputtered and died out yet.

_

 

Here I was all this time, thinking I had things pretty much in order; in terms of the emotional handling of recent and life-altering circumstances and the associated outcomes, at least. My seasoned readers know about the struggle with my kid, how it’s been so long-standing and draining yadda yadda yadda. To the point where it is all just so incredibly bad and dark and regrettable that I have detached myself totally from it all out of sheer necessity. Do not get me wrong, it has been HELL; but it has been something that I have been “dealing with”, even if that means detaching myself (from a situation that I hold zero control over anyway). I have also written lots about my mother; about the lifelong boxing match (I mean this emotionally, more than physically, but she is a psychopath who likes to scrap, too) between us. I have also described the unfolding ugliness surrounding the relationships between my kid and my parents these days, as my daughter has pretty much taken over control of their household and rules with thievery, destruction and chaos; I have written about my need to break away from the never-ending toxicity and generalized unease that is naturally and unfailingly attached to any dealings with any of them.

I haven’t been in contact with my daughter at all; which has been surprisingly easier this time than ever before because she disgusts and shames me on a whole new level. I have been trying to maintain some semblance of a relationship with my mother throughout, however, which I have already admitted here as being a stupid idea, and one that is counterproductive to my emotional status. I love my mother, in spite of myself; and genuinely long for closeness with her – the one that she has dangled in periphery all my Life. I am willing to bend for her; I am open to trying, but she is just so seemingly set permanently in her unhealthy and dishonest ways that it has begun to feel futile. I have straight out told my mother that I desire “no-contact” with my kid; and she always puts on this song and dance about how she totally gets it and is proud of me for being able to take care of myself, to put my foot down, etcetera. She plays as if she is totally in my corner to my face every single time, without fail; but is totally being a Fatmouth.

She sings a different song to other people; many have said this to me over the course of the living nightmare with my kid for the last ten years or so. She thinks my own brother (who does not sit there and let her badmouth me without defending me in outright defiance, for the record) won’t be so angry that he won’t tell me about it afterward, which is just mind boggling to me. In such instances, there are typically other family members present to witness what will ultimately become argument between them; my mother doesn’t even consider that any of those people might foster any relationship with me strong enough to warrant a bite to her tongue, either. She vows secrecy over touchy issues and then turns around and tells the very secret thing to the very person who wasn’t meant to be told. When confronted by the secret teller, she plays the ol’ “oh, I wasn’t supposed to tell them….? I didn’t realize you didn’t want me to tell them…” o convincingly that the only options you’re left with is to bludgeon her to death with clawhammer or just suck it up and move on. I realize more and more daily how toxic she is, even when she isn’t trying to be. She is toxic to me, at least. And, the reason behind her seemingly “exceptional” relationship with my kid is suddenly blatantly clear to me as well:

Of course they share a closeness that neither one has with me…they are so similar and alike in personality and behavior that it could be no other way!!!

 

I know what I need to do, like…for real; doing it will be the part worth mentioning in the future.