the abundance of possibilities
is making my stomach upset.
i feel like i forgot something,
i feel like i'm always catching up.
the ceiling is getting closer,
i think i'm about to throw up.
everyone's asking who i am
while i dream of a factory reset.

the sun's bleeding into the horizon,
the sun's taking its time to settle and set.
the infinite number of possibilities
is making my stomach upset.

when you were close
your voice would drown me
your hurtful words
the silence crowns me
i stayed quite because i knew
thats the only way i would keep you
i wept
i barely slept
i stayed awake
every stupid decision id make
i did it for you
for your praise
your time
i wish youd stayed
called us "mine"

Are you scared? Do you share the same curiosities?  

I do wonder... and I wonder if you wonder.... 

Quite often, you flick through my mind like a lighter being lit. 

The flame serving it's purpose until it's put down. 

Sparking cigarettes, cones, spots, incense. 

We joke a lot and they're over the boundary jokes. But I do catch myself hoping that you don't joke quite the same way... with anyone else. I'd call it close friends... and it could ALMOST pass as flirting. But I'm scared to make assumptions... 

I sit here at home and you flick across my thoughts, not quite daily... but where it used to be the day I seen you and the day after... now it's at random intervals. I don't sit here assuming I cross yours. But I wonder if I do at all... well not wonder really... it's more a hope.
At times, when I find your flame lighting, I like to watch how long it burns before it goes out. So far it's lasted this time for 7 hours. That's a record. 
Last week and all the previous ones, the once a fortnight get together (visit) was only affecting me the day of and after. the longer the gap in seeing or hearing from you... the better for me to focus on other things. 
I don't  know how your life has worked for you. Regarding relationships.... or friendships of the opposite ***. Have you ever lost anyone that you kind of devoted your soul to?  
To understand the heaviness of loss for me, I'd have to take you wayyyyyy back. Back to a place of vulnerability. The problem with doing that, is: not that I don't trust you.... it's a little bit of pre-concieved notions that people just don't care enough to delve right back into how someone's life was shaped... and even if you were different (like one in a thousand) (like me) there's a problem where you could not remain impartial to the people involved... and there's the problem of shaking like a 5 year old...as I begin to unravel who I am, for the sake f you... only for you to give up on me like everyone does. 

I get it, people come and go... it's easier not to love, open up or fall... and each flick of the lighter will eventually burn me. Playing with fire hurts... even though flames warm a cold room... 

and then there's C-PTSD to boot.... which consists of intrusive emotions when recounting a life shifting trauma...there's too much buried inside of me, I dont think we should dig. 

I get my flashbacks... but instead of images (which I sometimes get) every time I recount an event or try to explain a behaviour that stems from that. Emotions attached to it,  swarm me... and I'm feeling the fear, pain and damages all over again, like I'm right back there... and all of a sudden if I'm trying to explain something like the weight of loss, abandonment, etc... I go back to the first time I  was lost and abandoned... then I'm feeling the emotions again like I'm a little kid (vulnerability, fear, loneliness, alienation)

it's like a vault full of suppressed emotions gets unlocked and they start running rampant in my mind and heart... and only if I feel 100% safe, secure, sure and absolutely completely trust the other person I'm about to invest any given event in... would I then subject myself to the torment and feelings of being 4 again...

That's where the feelings begin though and not where they end. History does have a way of haunting us, following us... like a predisposed possession. Like our own personal ghost, trying to live the life it never got. Trying to experience love, but not knowing what it is. Destined to repeat the pattern in some desperate attempt at acceptance, but asking for it in all the wrong places. 

 Then there's all the other life lessons and losses I've experienced along the way that (for a normal person, are part of day to day life) attach themselves like a leech to some particular emotion... reminding you how it feels to love someone that doesn't love you... or punching you in the chest with a fist full of memories, attached to how it feels to be abandoned by someone you put your faith in... Thinking you were finally important to someone... something you've needed since you were born. 

C-PTSD as you know... stems from a situation where you were traumatised repeatedly, over an extended period of time... to which there was no hope of escape for the victim. 

My earliest remembered trauma starts at the age of 5. My latest trauma was 5 feb 2017



Emotions are my enemy. You can love me, but don't let me LOVE YOU.

I arch my shoulder

in fright, and zoom, away flies --


my guardian angel.

Sometimes I am scared to write those words
I hear in dark clouds hiding
Fear and restlessness are blinding
Stuck within my heart a universe
Of thoughts, a truth, a curse,
A worry and 1001 catastrophic stories,
Images of events that have never taken place,
Fake but seem real, I believe it still...
Once again I gave in,
Drowning I found myself in painful thoughts,
Scratching my chest under my skin,
Heaviness spreads it's poisonous roots...
What does surrender even mean
If not to write a poem?
I keep on observing the within,
I hope to find answers therein...

Now I understand how relationships oftentimes made me stop progressing and growing. I tried to stay the same deliberately because I was afraid they would stop loving me if I changed.

I push my fear behind my eyes
Further back than I can see
My dream has been eaten by lies
But I am no fig tree

I'm an orange watching my brethren
Ants chewing on their rotting skin
Their future, I was supposed to share in
Their peel, greenish of sin

I'm watching a rotting fig tree
That I know someone must've seen before
I mouth her, she mouths me
Is this all I'm waiting for?

My future may be determined
A rotting orange is all it may be
I thought it was self-determined
But I am no fig tree.

I won't fear men whose hands cause pain
Or those that hunt the young like wolves,
For beneath the wings of my Lord is my shelter,
And He serves His justice a hundredfold.
I won't fear men whose abandon the weak
Or those that tear this body apart,
For my Savior promised He'd always be with me,
And someday, life in my new form will start.

I look up at the clock,
Ticking endlessly,
To the mistress of time,
I write in sprawling cursive,
You have brought great pain,
Great love,
And horribly incredible emotions,
You are so scary yet so beautiful,
I look deep into your fathomless eyes,
As you stare into mine,
Piercing my very soul in a hypnotizing way,
Those who fear death,
in the frosty air let from your lips,
Shivers are sent down their spines as the cold sets in,
Blinking slowly,
Frost sets on their eyelashes,
as you lead their souls,
To the white sandy shores of death