Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member

She is hiding behind her projected frumpiness..
but when my young lovely takes off her glasses;

   Ah,    ****..

Those eyes are the reason men were given theirs.

Group facilitator is Christ incarnate..
                                      I am sure of it.

     "How well do you want to get, Paul"

I look over at her--
curled up on a chair pad..
hiding,  wondering
Looking down.. and then looking up at me
wondering if I'm gonna answer him;

      "Paul?  Are you there?"

I stare at her--  all alone,
biting the back of her fingers
fighting tears few in this world
would understand


There is roll-playing  in the group
using both action and Word
   to climb all over me
   and uncover me from where I hide.


He (my Jesus with an MA)
is staring at me,  inviting
I look back over at her
"I'm not leaving it, Dave"

              "Leaving what. Paul?"

"My brokenness..
its shattering of my soul"


He is staring at me, but begins to smile.
I look over at her,  and just know

  I will be with her forever

there is a healing
within the choice to not fully heal

      ..I'm going to Wichita

https://youtu.be/WM5W5y9zb1A?si=qlW3TxqbLetoGUNh

beautiful broken girl  is me
M Vogel Jan 28

You need the kind of real that in its utter realness..
becomes a living form of fantasy

Something so real that it spells out  the word

    "Unreal"
     in everything that it does and says..

A reality  that is in  perpetuality,
               a forever-living fantasy


There is a condition of the heart, mind and spirit,
that is truly able to do that.
Nothing is lost within the process;

   And everything there ever was within it..
   becomes its own beautiful form of Gain


xox
Jeremy Betts Jan 26
Don't tell me you love me if you can't say it publicly
Why put THOSE words in THAT order only for them to ring empty?
Ahh, sneaky, sneaky
You didn't think I noticed but I did, walked through the door with it on your right pinky
How'd you let the value you placed on the ring I placed on your finger drop below a hay penny?
Ignored on the ground with hardly a glance cause you "have plenty"
Was that the plan from the start, to pull the shoot early?
We were side by side, we said for all eternity, and you didn't think I'd see?
I know the words needed for that phrase are still in your vocabulary
But they're now spoken differently
Just another thoughtless thought runnin' through a smooth brain, produced automatically
Not calling you dumb, 'cause you've played me for a fool expertly
To speak it comes easy, literally learned at the tail end of infancy
Follow through is a entirely different story
It slips through those lose lips sporadically but it doesn't feel like they're actually for me
Just kinda, sorta vaguely directed in my general vicinity
Even still, to get even that takes a little prompting...unfortunately
They no longer spring forth and sooth this broken heart organically
I can no longer consider it a deep rooted feeling, it's just reactionary
Forget accuracy, this isn't satisfactory
Meanings mean nothing to you and, honestly, I find no truth in your "honesty"
I really wanted my theory on your true feelings for me to be phony
I've never wanted to be wrong so badly
But you prove me right daily and twice nightly
I no longer trigger any desire for intimacy
Fine, I guess, can't force that, it's gotta come around naturally or it doesn't do it for me
But your rejection of literally every attempt and advance from me I'm finding to be too costly
Bye bye confidence, so long ****** identity
Couple years before 40 and I already have to accept there'll be no ****** activity
Haven't been rejected this much through the entirety of my journey to ****** maturity
Feels like a search and destroy mission focused on my psyche
Absolutely crushed mentally and emotionally
And here I was thinking it was I that had an unlovable personality
You forced me to think that about me
Like I'm not even good company
I wish this would have worked out differently
And yet still, what I want even more is for you to agree
How pathetic of me

©2024
Do you think of me when you look at the moon
When you marvel at it's fullness and beauty,
Do you feel my absence?
Is my memory etched into your soul like you promised it would be?
For eternity?
preston Jan 3

She's gone

And all the years
of holding in
Of denying  my truth
in order to protect her
from-

     the truth ..

Of the horrors that she has done
Of the horrors
they both have done.

They are both gone now
No longer inhabitants
of this earth
No longer here
to bring the risk
of making little
what it was
that was not so very little

Even if they owned it
who could find the words?
There are not words
to describe the horrors

Are there left  enough years
to make up for the ones
the locusts have eaten?


    There  are no words
    to ever be able  to describe

    just  how  much  
    the locusts have eaten



🖕 ❤xo

https://youtu.be/GjAdjzsrEBQsi=HQdfY1cjlm8aOWq5
.
CarolineSD Dec 2023
She ran until she felt only the deep burn of harshly inhaled and exhaled air raking across the exhausted pathways of her throat and lungs; until she started to see dark spots flitting in and out of her vision and her legs felt like numb pillars of concrete.

She ran on and on with small branches and sharp thistle grabbing at her arms, legs and face, leaving a sense of rubbed sand across her exposed skin.

She pummeled forward, ignoring the death of all feeling in her body, ignoring her heart’s desperate thudding, ignoring the throbbing of blood in her temples screaming, “STOP!” She deafened her ears to her own body and ran on and on, ignoring the dank, putrid mud that kicked up onto her calves and thighs.

She ran and ran and ran until, like a figure underwater, her legs ceased to yield any force against the ground and she sank, floating down, down, down to the black forest floor, first knees, then hands that could not hold her, and finally, her head thudding against the ground with an explosion of stars and the undeniable sense of giving up.

It found her soon enough. Breaking through the thick branches by the old river’s edge, it stood on four trembling legs, panting and salivating. Blood, it smelled blood. The scent was overpowering and beautiful beneath the thin skin of the gaunt little girl. She would be a meager meal, but it was desperate.

Its eyes shone yellow and ravenous through the falling dusk. The others soon followed in a rough pack of visible ribs and gray fur falling out in clumps and eyes dulled from starvation; whimpering and sniffling, too weak to gather their voices in song. The cold night reeked of the memory of wolves once strong enough to howl across the valley, a rising and falling chorus, breaking from the forest to the stars.

Alas, it was all but gone now, along with the morning birds and the great bodies of bears, motionless and decaying like ancient boulders within the belly of the woodlands and the rock-strewn foothills.

The girl was still conscious as the pack began its desperate feasting on barely more than bones.  Everything was barely more than bones, and feeble breath now, and the light that dimmed in the girl’s eyes was barely more than the snuffing of a weak candle. Everything was giving up.

All that remained on earth was red. The red. The RED. Across newsfeeds, and newspapers, and on people’s lips and endless posts on Facebook and Twitter: The RED. By the time it flew across the web, across the world, in people’s questions and conversations, it was already inextricable; already incurable. It came bit by bit. It came like venom, or repressed rage, or revenge, or justice, or Holy War. It came barely perceptible or visible, until it was everywhere and in everything, and by then, it was too late. By then, we were unredeemable.

It began with genocide and our blindness to it; the tipping point of humanity, when the sun-clad holy spirit, the Great Spirit in all things, bowed Her head and wept vast galaxies of tears, tears like falling stars, like the sound of space and time collapsing, because She saw. SHE SAW.

She saw little children with broken limbs, with bones jutting from knees, and skulls crushed like shattered, fragile flowers; little children in the arms of screaming mothers, little bodies piled upon bodies, bloodied and battered, and held up for the world to see, as if broadcast across a slideshow in the sky, and SHE SAW,

She saw the Leaders of Great Wealth and Great Power, turn their heads away and feign blindness, and from their lips SHE HEARD THEM SAY, over and over, “collateral damage.”

And She watched as the Great Leaders learned that they could horrifically, indiscriminately, and brutally slaughter the masses of little wealth and little power, as easy as culling stray dogs.

She saw that there would be no CONSEQUENCES, only “consequences;” consequences like the protests of hundreds of thousands of powerless people, or the boycotting of corporations, corporations owned by the Leaders of Great Power and Great Wealth who sat on their fat offshore bank accounts and outlasted the masses.

The masses needed food, the masses needed shelter, the masses needed healthcare, and the corporations controlled IT ALL.

Eventually, the masses would capitulate. Eventually, they would fall in line. Eventually, they did.

And that is how the Great Spirit in all things, the light of all lights, the wind through the stars, the essence of being, the sacred web of all things, began to tremble, to fall apart, to weep, to release the grief we should have ALL felt for our own cruelty, for our own capitulation to darkness.

She did it for us,

Weeping RED, a tinted light, a bitter water. Slowly, we felt it, tasted it, smelled it. We began to watch the slow dissolution of being. Leaves fell and never returned. Fat shrunk on our bodies and snow melted to rock, to pebbles, to sand, to sand in the wind, blowing away. We are called back to the beginning.

Dissolution in the red tears of God.

I watched the desperate wolf eat his very last meal. None of us had very long. He peered at me with hollowing, haunted, yellow eyes, but he had no more will to run, to fight, to ****.  The cruelty of his last hunt could not match our own cruelty to one another. One was born of desperation and hunger; the other of greed.

Greed ended our Great Dominion, and it will never return. Now, I lean my head against the giant body of a Ponderosa Pine; a pine that is yellowing and dying. I look out across the wild cliffs into the reddening sky. I have little energy left to stand. We are fading into nothingness. I ask a final question to the void below:

Grandmother, spirit of all things, heart of all hearts, the light of all lights, the wind through the stars, the essence of being, the sacred web of all things, after us, after we are all but a light and scattered dust, is there a bright dawning beyond this dissolution, this nothingness?

The wind carries a gentle voice:
"Yes."

A six month whirlwind
of friendship--
mixed with  an
impassioned.. unexplainable,
   I  don't  know

Hope against hope:
the dream, Unfolded
right before  my own
deeply-imbedded cynicism;
As the most  incredible
Lazarus  of all
came forth from the tomb

I am angry at things of the past
and tell God that he hates me..
But I know it is just a lie

Your very existence  tells me
that his  hatred  of me
  is just a lie


Your love for me  undoes
every lie I have ever known


Beautiful Maria of my soul~
A death  of me..
A rebirth  of me
https://youtu.be/bb0GfyPZRnw?si=Gg4lAE88ZhYqJKLQ

#Love❤
Casey Dec 2023
I want to live forever with you,
when our bones intertwine and turn to dust
I see the future with you
I trust myself in that

I can taste the red in the sunset we'll paint when we go
:3
FunSlower Dec 2023
You unreservedly trace the breadth of her nape.

Lightly running fingers along the softest hairline.

Easing pressure from ears unable to hear you.

Palms rolling cotton at the small of her back.

A spine you’d send shivers down, but only once.

Relieving tension in shoulders guarding a heart.

Hands Hurt from hard work. Feet unswept off.

A mind to release pressure from for an eternity.

A life you’re unworthy of living beside her.

A love you’re so willing, but ever unfitting.
Release
CarolineSD Nov 2023
You said you saw our baby last night,
The one we will never have;
Our dream baby.

I was holding her
Against my shoulder
Blanket pulled up around her little head
And I turned to you and said something banal,
Like grab the bottle from the fridge, darling.

And we have found each other beyond
The years of babies.
You have yours and I have mine, already,
And they have all reached the far side  
Of dog-tired  
Midnight dream feeds
In a cedar rocking chair.

You and I have both already been
There;

This continent we will never walk together.

But I feel her now,
Our dream baby,
In everything.

She rests there in the gentle way you caress my face
As starlight plays across the blankets.
She clings close to your laughter,
Curled inside your fervent and unrelenting
Belief in me.

And in the mirrored chambers of your hazel eyes,
When I am laid beside you and softly
Humming my mother’s
Oldest
Lullaby;
It is there, I can feel her smile,
Our dream baby,

A love beyond ages,
A sacred creation
Between your soul and mine.
A dream my husband had the other night. We won't have our baby, but we have created, so entirely, something sacred.
Next page