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we are all
distributed transmissions
of the same
fundamental rhythm
I thought you said you would stay out of my life, Erich Morse.
*****, gin, wine or ***
Anything will do
A girl needs something strong
Just to get her through
In this utter crap & solitude
To which I find I'm living
My friends are Henny's cider
Or any other sin
Tobacco and not eating
Are helping me lose weight
And perhaps a line of coke will do
To deaden all the hate
I really should take more care
Especially for the child
But I still can't quite remember
The last time that I smiled
To self destruct is what I know
From years of selfish pain
But I will pull through
I will be strong
I will return again

(C) Pixievic 2016
I actually wrote this last year at the beginning of my divorce - I am getting stronger - & I believe I have returned!!
the ***** of your chin is
nothing will numb you more
than the epitome of nothingness
soft collared shirts and grey-scale jeans
I feel music in you
like water
abounding with reluctance
here I stand
gently begging you to
be deafening.

chanting silently
we are here we were here

with pale long dancing fingers I am
certain that the end is not near
nor will it ever be
for you
this is not what ur thinking
if you can't feel love
you are only breathing*

not living

to live
to love
this word alone
can't hurt you
what makes it painful
are the people
that surrounds it*

society will always
pull you down and label you
but don't listen to them
stand at the middle
between feeling
and thinking
don't mind them
be who you are
and what you will be
is all about
making sense
out of all

try to make sense
to be the light,
carry with you
a heart filled with
fiery burning passion
to help

and seek no reward
for thyself

lesson #3 from firefly

you may be small but you can be big as you can be through your light

Note: the italic last line is from "R k"

tap or click the #igmslessonsfromanimals tag button to read the other lessons
Our ember burned brighter than any known,
But thee's departure dispossessed my soul.
Impure affection like an eager thorn,
Tore at my heart and broke me nearly whole.

T'was cold and dark when our flame burned too dim;
Why couldn't I be your little princess?
Your fathership was nothing but a whim.  
Through the tears and hardship I became a mess.

My breath seized to exist the day you left.
Distressed.  Alone.  Worthless.  Hollowed.  Depressed.  
Daddy committed the worst kind of theft,
And left me on my own lamenting quest.

My anger carried me beyond the grief.
Now stands a warrior beyond belief.
In a society, image is everything. You are judged from the people you hang out with, the things you do, the clothes you wear.  People shout out that the boy sitting in the corner of gym class is too fat or whisper about how that girl down the hall is far too skinny.  The head of the dance team is told she has one too many curves and should not be “poppin’ and lockin’” with so much confidence, yet the cheerleader is criticized for her petite stature and flat chest.  The boy with the glasses?  He gets bullied daily for his lack of social activity, meanwhile the football **** is faking his confidence and putting on a persona simply to hold up his high school reputation.

Children grow up with the assurance that beauty is on the inside, and that what is on the outside doesn’t matter, yet this statement has proven itself to be false time and time again.  These children were lied to.  You were lied to.  I was lied to. The world is cruel.  It is judgmental and ignorant.  People are turned down their dream jobs over the most miniscule stupidities, such as the fact that they have a tattoo on their arm or because their hair is purple.  You are judged at every corner of your journey, and your world will always revolve around the physicality of how you look.  

No matter how many people believe that appearance is of little importance, there is always a whole world behind them willing to prove them wrong.  But that doesn’t mean we cannot dream.  Dream.  That’s all it is.  That promise that who you are on the inside is enough? It’s all a dreamful desire to look past the image your body presents.  And if dreaming is the only hope we have at being seen as our true self, than you better believe I’m going to keep on dreaming.

Because of the picture society has set out for me, I’ve constantly looked in the mirror seeing nothing but a disappointment.  Every day I find a new flaw, and every day, I realize I am even further from perfection.  But if I can dream that who I am on the inside is enough, than maybe I can become one of the first perfect imperfections out there.

You see, I have never wanted to be perfect, nor do I want to now.  Quite honestly, I don’t believe that perfection exists.  It is a myth.  And yet, everyone seems to be reaching to the stars, going out of their way to attain even the smallest ounce of this so called perfectionism.  Whatever you are reaching for, stop.  Stop and hear me out.  

Beauty is neither from within nor without.  Right is neither in this way nor in that way.  And perfection is neither in your world or mine.  Because we are one in the same.  And the only way to be what our society is calling perfect is to be as imperfect as possible.  Be yourself, because no matter what you do, I can promise you that you will be judged. With every step you take, expect a shadow to crawl up behind you and tell you are doing it wrong.  Expect to be an outcast and to not fit in “perfectly.” Expect to be criticized and ridiculed, because it will happen anyways.  Why are you going to strive to be perfect and risk losing yourself, when you can simply embrace each and every flaw to create the most beautiful imperfection possible?  Don’t live to please others.  Don’t strive to be perfect when perfection is nonexistent.  Embrace what your mamma gave you and rock each imperfection like it is no one else’s business. Because in the end, this is your dream, and being the captain of your own voyage is the only way to make it worth it.  It is the only way to become perfectly imperfect.
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