What a lonely place it is when the grace of a pause is not given.

Between patients and rationality- all the filters that each data point wiggles through. To calculate how to disarm the bomb, without sacrificing myself.

What a waste, all this energy spent to go unrealized, and not truly appreciated.
A thousand apologies nor gratitude wishes can equate to the power a single breath, a pause, can make.

Look forward to seeing you there!
Aiming for a post every weekday.

"Your discomfort is better than mine"
They speak without words.

Slowly roasting from the inside out
is a hard thing to hide;
smiling with lava in your chest.
Persist, persevere, push onward;
put a pin in it.

Pin the feelings that are inconvenient.
Note and move past the ignorance and injustice, impulsivity and disrespect.

"Shut up and melt"

Curious, the time we waste
being upset over perceived wasted time.
Regardless of the accuracy.
The ever repeating self-fulfilling prophecy
rages on expecting constant perfection.

Caught up in mirrors,
not caring for what I see.
The reflection creeps
and crawls deep inside of me.

Ignition of the core, or soul,
or whatever - doesn't matter.
As long as I can manifest
A perfect reflection of everything you'd like to see.

Never take for granted
The energy it takes
To subdue the knee **** reaction of
"Go **** yourself"

It only took me two and a half years
To feel like checking the mail
Wasn't a burden

I want to craft something unique and timeless.
Unfortunately the words do not present themselves organically.
So I look to my wandering thoughts for a sense of purpose;
to discover a catalyst and explode in a burst of creativity.

With fizzles echoing from the hollowness within me;
the empty space where hobbies and passions live.
Sought time and again, to give meaning and purpose to a life as a cog in society's machine.
Perhaps I am wasting the very time I am trying to enrich seeking a dream.

When it comes to finite resources, our concept of time is fickle and dubious.
As it often will, perception steps to the top of the hierarchy of attention.
Time management is a killer sound byte, though an illusive skill, and not often thought of outside of the office.  
Grasping at the moment I cannot help but find myself wondering through the fog of the future.

I fear sitting back when I am older and looking upon a life not lived.
That the time needed to discover what I want will slip through my fingers, and the void will remain indefinitely.
Dreams are hard to fathom in a shroud of controlling darkness beyond your control.
The ever looming need to survive suffocates every orifice without mercy.

The rock and hard place of playing victim and being one by consequence of existing may as well go by “my humble abode.”
Pressure mounts with each tick, and tok - still I throw words at the page.
Waiting for the catharsis to cast itself out of my chest, violently;
for the words to fall into place like sand counting seconds encased in glass.

I am somewhat of a ticking time bomb.
I can feel the internal pressure increasing daily.
Reminding me time and energy are finite,
and that bitterness lingers like a bad smell.

Having little practice managing anger
it slips away from me like sand through my fingers.
Sand gets everywhere, leaving nasty texture only I can sense.
The dominos are falling; an unstoppable force.

The fire has been lit in me to discover authenticity.
Inherently, growing aware of every violation against my core values.
The sand allowed for lines to be drawn,
and I am not crossing them; an immovable object.

Static, stuck, still, yet not stable or sustainable.
Understanding that life comes with sacrifices,
I will no longer give away so easily.
Assimilation is removed from my vocabulary.

Hello all!

I am in the process of creating my own blog/ poetry website. I will still be posting here for a while as I continue development on the site. But feel free to come check it out in it's most basic form!

Updates to come in the coming weeks.

https://spacepuppybarks.com/


Thanks all.
-Alaina

I am running in sand.

I am drying off in the river.

I am free in chains.

I am lost surrounded by directions.

I dance around these moving goal posts
With poise and grace

While it eats away at my mental health
And my stability with it.

Hope you enjoy the lie.

Sometimes the path forward is obvious
But is hard to swallow
So we choose to choke on ignorance
Until one day we remind ourselves we know the right path
All we must do is choose to walk forward.

In an instant
My words overflowed
From their mouth
Taken out of context
Without conscious consideration
Without control of emotion

Perspectives are locked in
And I am the root source
Of all of this tension
Simply because I was seeking release
Of tension - ironic

In an instant
The door was closed
And I, locked inside
I can't ignore this
I can't change it
So I am left with rehashes
And fake smiles.

I am fake smiles personified
In a hollow existence
With goal posts, always moving
I am in a head spin
Trying to figure out
Where the **** to aim

I like to frolic in fields
Laced with landmines.

I like to take bubble baths
With curling irons, plugged in.  

I like to walk alleys
Naked at night.

I like to fast.
Indefinitely.

I like look in the mirror
And see someone else.

I like to think about these things
As if they were true.

I am the settler
The assimilated puppet.

I am the beacon
To avoid, not follow.

I am the lost soul
Who can't articulate how the feelings manifest.

I am the child
Who can't express what they need.

And in an instant
The realization swept me
The weight of all these years

All the lies
Like an avalanche
That I've told myself

It's okay
It's fine
I'm okay

How buried am I
How forgetful
As if I haven't done this before  

It's harder this time
I am so lost
In myself

My favorite meal (apparently)
Is eating crow
****** every day
Devoured like ice cream
On a hot day
I'm a hot mess
Words equate land mines
Going off without warning
Disguised as words
Play me a fool
I thought I was helpful
But alas
Set the gasoline on fire
Let it light the way
Use me as a bridge
And light me aflame
And they say
You should talk more
What do I get from that
Besides explosions
And feathers in my teeth
But with lips sewn shut
I won't be eating anything
So crow is better than nothing
Only because starvation
Takes 45 days
I lack the patience

One of the most painful things
I have had to endure (so far)
Was watching you slip away.

There is so much to unpack.
So many threads that came together,
Becoming the quilt that is you now.

But patches were removed,
Replaced,
Repurposed.

The reflection remains unchanged.
Nothing else follows.
Nothing else remains.

I see old pictures of us.
A you with different eyes.
If only I could pull you from those images.

I miss who you were.
They are forever gone.
Yet we both remain.

I am ready to fly off the rails.
I am prepared for the fallout.
I am filled with rage.
I am awaiting the toxicity.
I am craving the release.
I am unable to let go.

So I'll stay here.
In the repetition of misery.

I am not.

Isn't it a bit hard
To find meaning
In what you're doing right now
When you know
That it isn't
Helping -- even remotely
Slow down the mass extinction
Your species created?

There are a million ways you can divy it up
Justify it, add perspective, be realistic about your impact.
Which ultimately IS minimal
But could be larger
Maybe
If we all did... something?
Together?

Stop the world and find a common focus
Like the world always does
... In action movies
Usually because... Aliens
Which pose an immediate threat

A threat our brain can understand
Not this delayed doom
That feels so far away
... far away...
Until it's here

Is it too late?

Worst thing is that we **** 99% of all life on the planet.
Maybe this is just the 1% at it again
Taking it all for themselves.

My favorite time of the day lately
Is when everyone else in the house is sleeping.
This is my alone time.
Laying in my cocoon of warm blankets
I take in the silence
My mantra ensues

This is my time
And no one can take it from me.

I get lost in daydreams that fade into real dreams.
And as I hit snooze on my alarm the mantra continues

These next 10 minutes are mine and mine alone.
I am safe in my cocoon and I am safe in this room.
Hold on to this feeling of calm.
The day will pass at times constant speed.
No one can change that no matter how it feels.
This is my time
No one can take it from me.

Trapped
Slave to money
Trapped
No time for fun
Trapped
Make that money
Trapped
At least 18 years
Trapped
Self sacrificed
Trapped
For the good of the family
Trapped
Don't know myself
Trapped
Can't feel anymore
Trapped
Can't eat anymore
Trapped
Like I'm in a zoo
Trapped
Can't speak my truth
Trapped
Can't escape my abuse
Trapped
Alone in a crowded room
Trapped
No energy to speak of
Trapped
Gave away all I am
Empty
All that's left.

All my self worth is carried on the backs of others.

What an idea to fathom

That I could carry it myself.

What a task I've burden others.

Would assume the weight if I knew how.

There is a war in me that rages.
To speak up or not speak up
Is always the point of contention.

I do not know when to ask for help
Or even how for that matter
But I'm so tired of feeling alone.

I wish I knew how to pull
The coiled wire from my chest
To alleviate pressure, any pressure.

So I can breath again.

I'm shooting the high horse
So step off
Or go down
Your choice.

2020 the year weather was borderline irrelevant in my world.

At times our conversations feel like they're in a tumble dryer.
Spinning into mindless repetition and progressively heating up.

For all these years I've been gifted
I'm just curious
When do I start to enjoy them?

They are somewhat like a smudge of coal dust
on a white wedding gown

He craves a feeling he cannot grasp
And so he spirals in the darkness
Into the womb of existence
Just wanting to prove himself
To declare "I'm worthy of life, see me!"
As he feels invisible, despite his best efforts
He is more a ghost than a man,
Even so, he lacks spirit.

She wants to be happy
A feeling she cannot define
Gnashing teeth; molded smile
To blend into the crowd
She is an actress forever in the spotlight
Every street, train car, and public sphere
She assimilates to the point of amnesia  
She longs for something easier;
Some kind of relief she can't articulate nor manifest.
Imprisoned by illness of mind, of body -
Her façade shifts to reality as her reflection grows unfamiliar
She tries so hard to differentiate authentic self from the other
But the lies all blend together, leaving her dizzy

Ground in the blinder of life
Their hearts poured through a strainer
She grasps the strings
He weaves them into ropes that hold them together.
Be it kindness or cruelty, the act carries the stench of survival

They are one, and
They are magnets facing
Opposite direction
Jaded jigsaw pieces forced together.
Then called a pretty picture.
They crave singularity
Balance of both body and mind.
A work in progress, they ride the wave
Hoping to wash ashore more whole than before.

At times, it sounds like crowds are cheering, when I'm sitting in a silent room.

With my lower jaw working on a merger with my upper. I take a deep breath and sigh.

Until I hear the silence.

The inconvenienced patron always arrived late. 
They always had a glass to fill, and not a minute to wait. 
Their emotions were like landmines, and their problems all your own. 
The inconvenienced patron was always picking a bone. 
They tell you how they were mistreated, how others are so unkind. 
Then rant and rave about how how if they’d had just been patient with them everything would be fine. 
The inconvenienced patron never seemed to give a second glance 
To the glazed over patrons not holding their breath 
For an ounce of positivity nor some selfless grace. No. 
The inconvenienced patron made them blue in the face.

I stumbled upon your linkedin yesterday,
and saw you frozen in time.
Read through an articulate and proud bio, and wished that that was still you embodied.  
Before all the pieces crumbled apart.
I didn't realize that it would haunt me.
What a feeling it is, to know you're alive, while mourning as if you're gone.
I would give you all my hope if it had a chance of saving you.

Spent countless days waiting and wishing for someone to come save me.

Until I stood up and realized the whole reason I am here is to save myself.

Though every joy that could be enhanced, and every misery that could be diluted.
Thoughts of escape dance like ballerinas in my mind.
Fluid in motion and undeniably enticing

I swoon for them - hypnotized.

They are really sirens seducing me, and pulling me toward oblivion.

I'm a moth to the flame.

Seeking a comfort zone that was never comfortable to begin with.
To inflict a suffering I do not deserve, yet so desperately long for at times.

Remember, remember the 5th of November, and remember the point of the plot.

That blind obedience and fear of others is what spoiled the ***.

Addicted to darkness
like millennials and 90s nostalgia.
Undeniable comfort found in misery.
Leads me to drive the sulking deeper; enhanced pity.
Consumed by temptation,
vivid thoughts and shallow promises.

The predictability of my self destruction.

Euphoric memories of crimson scars,
that flirted with inevitability.
Slick and blurred is the line between thoughts and actions.
I'm walking a tightrope; history breathing down my neck.
I sadistically want to lose my footing,
and masochistically suffer the consequences.

I grew up with God in the wind,
and didn't fit in with Christian friends.
They told me stories and begged me to repent.
Though doubtful, my anxiety sparked at the thought of sin.

I was once on a playdate and the mother told me.
She disowned her best friend when she confessed she was a lesbian.
She told me she could only take her back if she came to her senses.
It made me feel sad and sick, with little sympathy for the protagonist.

I was once told by a good friend that no one is bisexual, of course they're just confused.
I knew who I was but I didn't say anything in rebuttal.
I just nodded my head and took the bruise.

Once after jokingly seeing my boyfriend and another male friend hold hands, my mother told me "how dare those ******* disrespect you like that."
It was a moment that shattered glass and left scars.
I managed an apology after too much effort.

My stepfather once told me that gender fluidity was a confused phase, and a fad for attention.
Walls were put up and notes were taken.
Doors remained closed and silence  prevailed.

I am complicated.
I blend in to "normal"
I feel guilty at times and don't feel honest.

I undervalue, perhaps, the benefit of looping everyone in.
Or, perhaps, I'm just keeping the peace and heeding warning signals.

I can say for certain, it's not a fad nor phase.
I've always been who I am, I just had to grow up in order to phrase it.

The relief of sheet and blanket, nestled between hands and heart.

Floods my being with irrational safety and solace.

I never want to leave.

The amount of messages
I compose and then delete
would almost make you wonder
if I was just talking to myself.

I will not carry
any unnecessary weight,
because the world is heavy enough.

I will not compare myself to others,
and feel guilty about my shortcomings
because each experience is unique.

I will not let failure consume me
with guilt, but I will carry the anxiety
because I do want to be better.

I will no longer torture myself
because I feel I'm supposed too.

I will allow myself to experience forgiveness from myself.

Don't feel like a cog.


Don't feel like a bird either.

Thinking... "I should say I'm sorry"
Then saying nothing.
Because I'm not sorry.

Girl power.

What if I allow myself,
to be myself,
while still being happy?

What if I stop
being the bully,
and become cheerleader full time?

What happens when I just trust myself
as a default?

Well then I guess,
I'd be free.

Aim to be the person
you dreamed you'd be as a child
in spite of the world crushing your dreams.

It's not that music defines me,
It just helps me explain to myself how I feel.

I love you,
despite the many failures
The true and perceived.
I want to hear about it all
be here through it all.
I wish you'd respond.
I hope you know you're worth more than you're giving yourself.
This doesn't have to be the final chapter.

I could never own a gun,
I'm too much of a risk for that.

Seeking to thrive
despite status quo forces
pulling me to center.
I keep aiming for stars.

I keep pen to paper
As if these words will heal me

I keep lips together
As if no words will save me.