We've grown claws instead of nails,
and now they're tearing at our throats
leaving feral cuts.
Like a single atom that impossibly wants to split,
we're digging our claws into each others' skin.
Exposing wounds,
spilling guts.
"Careful, you might slip on 'em," she smiled,
not human like;
teeth sharp and menacing.
I did.
And now she lathers her hair with my blood.
A shiny red prize as she rises to the top;
a red supernova,
preaching about what is right and wrong.
Two atoms.
A miracle.
I sit down on the earth,
watching you rise, tending to my wounds.
And I tend, and I tend.
And I tend.
Heal.
Claws; I'm ready.
One day you'll dim and fall,
And I'll just walk away.
Not a supernova,
not an angel,
not a monster.
I'm a human;
body and soul,
and I won't let you waste my energy
no more.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 8:45 AM UTC
So here's the scene:
11:30p.m. on New Year's Eve;
A bedroom, dimmed lights,
And me—in bright pink pyjamas
Which looked completely ridiculous
With my hair and skin.
Life tip: Gingers and bright pink?
Best avoid.
In fact; I don't know why
I was wearing it in the first place—
I don't even like bright pink.
Anyway;
Whatever.
*This is not the point.*
The point is me;
Sitting at my desk
And writing in my journal
About how emotionally crippling
The past year had been;
Hoping I’d wake up to a better tomorrow—
Only to find the same harsh reality,
Over and over.
And God! What a toll it took on me:
Mentally, physically and spiritually—
When it happened.
It, like a large invisible hand,
Slapping me hard across the face and shouting:
Are you done being miserable?
And maybe that was all I needed to hear.
Once I read that perhaps
You couldn't decide to be happy,
But you sure as hell could decide to be miserable.
And maybe that was one of the truest things I have ever read—
Because that was exactly what was happening.
There is only so much that medications can do,
And only so much that a person could advise,
When your mind is set on:
*I don't want to get better.
I don't deserve to get better.*
And that’s when I saw it:
A tiny spark,
That was always there but for some reason
I had decided not to see.
And in that moment,
It filled my eyes with blind hope
And I decided:
I am going to let it happen.
I deserve to be happy.
I went to bed that night;
A small smile on my face
And this tiny spark still glowing so bright inside of me.
And that’s when I heard it.
When all was still, except for
The air that filled my lungs,
And the beating of my heart
In synch with the rhythm of the universe:
I heard it.
It was a purpose.
My purpose.
It has only been a few days now,
But I know I was right.
Positive.
Because I’m doing okay.
It’s not that I have gained immunity to pain,
Or that some magic has been endowed upon me:
It’s just that I’m not afraid of hurting any more.
And that's just it—
The simple story of how I’ve come to learn,
The most important lesson I have ever learnt, to date.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
J,
I painted a picture of the deep blue sea today.
Mrs. A said she loved how I put the sea in the shape of a sphere
Going from a deep sapphire, to a light cerulean,
Until it reaches an inky blackness in the middle.
Such art.
I said thank you.
I didn't tell her about your blue eyes,
And how they reminded me of the sea.
And the air and the heat,
And the earth and life.
I didn't tell her how it feels,
When your eyes glaze over me
Like my soul carries no body.
E asked me this week
If I still collected sharpeners,
Before she whispered about how you got engaged.
I'm so happy for you.
Honestly:
I'm so happy for you it hurts.
I think she wished I hadn't heard her.
I bought more sharpeners that day.
I saw Dr. O yesterday.
She asked me if I still heard your voice
When everything's dead at night.
I know you're not wondering:
But I do.
She asked me if I'm taking my meds,
And sometimes I don't want to,
And sometimes I just want to take them all at once,
But I said I did.
She asked me about the letters.
I told her I filled my fifth box that day.
She told me to stop,
Because they weren't doing me any good.
That's why I wrote you a poem today.
I hope you don't mind.
I saw you with her this evening,
And your family,
And her family.
That's a lovely ring.
I know you're doing well,
And I know you're loved.
I hope you will always stay golden.
Really. I mean it.
Happy Holidays.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC