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Patrick Austin Sep 2018
Our Backgrounds before we met...

I'm an only child born in Montana in 1983, from a divided home. Parents divorced at seven, Mom was unstable and unfaithful. Dad obtained custody of me and we moved to Oregon Coast to live with my Grandma. I had unhealthy visits and relationship with Mom thereafter. My Grandma died at 12 and at 13 my Dad remarried an alcoholic woman, I had a strained relationship with them until adulthood when she stopped drinking. I had exposure to trauma; alcoholism, mental illness, verbal abuse and juvenile troubles. I rebelled by using drugs in my late teens and early twenties, I lived on my own for a few years after high school but had little direction.

My bride is the eldest with two little brothers, parents stayed in same area of Portland during childhood with lots of family support and her parents stayed married. They had Christian values but some anger and anxiety issues at home. She was sexually assaulted at 17 and never had good closure with this. She told me her parents didn't provide her enough help with things like this growing up. Status quo was the backbone of the family dynamic, challenging emotions were discouraged. She rebelled by being reckless with herself, financially and sexually. She decided to join the Navy at 19. She lived alone briefly, but mostly with Grandparents & Parents before our marriage.

I loved how we both grew up reading Archie comics. No other girl I had ever met had that in common with me. I think we wanted a surreal life like the one in Riverdale.

2002

She and I were 19 when we first met in my home town on the coast at an arcade. We became friends and secretly liked each other. I was too nervous to ever make a move on her. We traveled together, she stayed with me, we used drugs together and drank at times. One night she drank too much and had *** with a guy I knew at a party. I was devastated by this. She was Navy bound and I didn't see a real future for us. The next morning she left and I didn't talk to her again for two years. I figured she would be gone with the Navy soon and that she must not have been interested in a relationship with me despite the time we spent together.

2003

I was depressed about this rejection. I dated an older woman who was interested in me but was no substitute. I eventually moved to the Portland area to work and live. I still had few plans and was lonely, in or out of the few brief relationships I attempted. I never found someone that I felt safe with or had a true connection, let alone true love. She ended up not following through with the Navy and continued working her way up in her job at the call center. She attended community college and dated a few guys. She dated one guy for a couple of years who was not a good match for her but stayed with him off and on despite issues. His family was wealthy and treated her well. He slept around on her as did she. At one point he gave her an STD. She also had an ongoing affair with a married man in the military that she went to high school with. He had a child and a wife with mental health issues. She was still hurting a lot at times and not always doing well.

2004

She reached out to me via email after two years of no contact. We emailed back and forth a couple times over the next few months. We talked about meeting up. We spoke on the phone and eventually met up in Portland. We had an amazing night getting to know each other again and work past the confusion of our earlier days of friendship. I realized that she did in fact like me before but since I was timid and trying to be proper and take things slowly she didn't understand my motives. She apologized for her actions at the party as well. She claimed she was in a really messed up place and was making bad choices at that time. Getting our feelings out in the open was good and she appreciated my attitude towards being slow to make moves on her when we first met. I was worried about falling for her based on our history but eventually I was determined to give it a shot. We soon after starting dating and being intimate. Our love was extremely powerful and beyond all others we had both experienced. She broke ties with other suitors and shortly after we talked about marriage and started planning a wedding for the next year.

I remember when we first held hands. We were so shakey and she was quivering on my couch as I had my arm around her. We felt so safe with each other. We could finally be ourselves and do what our hearts desired. We knew we were on to something new and so amazing. We were so patient with each other as we navigated our new love and emotional thresholds.

I remember when we saw Matisyahu in concert together. That was a once in a lifetime experience and a life-changing moment for us. I feel it set the tone for things to come in our future.

I remember how creative my proposal to her was, in the Arcade where we first met. I hid the ring in a prize container from one of those claw machines. Pretending I got the ring from inside by reaching into the machine on one knee I was so nervous and wasn't sure if I could pull it off before she caught on. She looked so shocked and surprised. I was so excited she said yes! We took pictures in the photo machine and had burgers afterwards, I'd do all of it all over again just to see her face in that moment.

2005

We found an apartment for us in Portland. I moved in while she was still living back with her parents until the wedding. She had to change her number because the married man she was previously involved with kept calling her about changing her mind about marriage and continuing their relationship. She was offered a job in Denver and we decided to move away together after our sandy wedding in Cannon Beach. I still had a very hard time and was embarrassed with my past history with her. Many of my friends knew what had happened at 19 and how much it hurt me but I was so crazy about her I think I tried to pretend it didn't happen or that it was not a big deal because we were younger. We got married and moved to Colorado soon after. We made friends at a church, I became more active as a Christian and really loved being married. We were very involved in keeping spirituality in our marriage. I began to notice her poor financial decisions and practices more. This caused conflict but we always tried to communicate and work on things.

I remember when we went down to my folks for New Year's in 2005. We sipped tea in my Datsun as we drove to the coast over the snowy mountain pass. We told them of our engagement. We were all so blissful and excited. We never knew what was to come. We didn't even know about the opportunity in Denver yet. Our story is amazing!

I remember when I wanted to go see her in Portland and the roads were iced over. I left my car at a park and ride before I caused a wreck. I took the light rail across town then rode a bus to the Eastside shopping mall. The bus to her house was not running because it wasn't safe so I walked the rest of the 4 Miles sometimes having to crawl on my hands and knees to make it up hills in the ice and then I finally made it only to just spend a couple hours with her and fall asleep on her parents couch. Her Dad drove us back the next morning to my car so I could get to work. It was all worth it just to see her for that little extra time. I would have done anything for her.

I remember when she was interviewing for the new position in Denver? I drove all over Portland trying to find little toy cars to help with her illustration about how a team is like a car having all four wheels and how they work together to accomplish a goal. I was so proud of her for giving it her all and succeeding at earning that position. Now that I think of it, that car analogy applies to our family and us. We all need each other to be better and keep on track and be a team. I am so motivated by that and our boys. I lose my way without that and I want to be her reflection and motivation as she has been that for me. I truly thought we brought out the best in each other when we were together.

I remember when we were given tickets to see Fiona Apple. That was so spontaneous and a great way to kick off our time in Denver together. We always used to watch our same movies over and over again. Like the Friends DVDs and White Christmas every winter break and The Wedding Singer. We walked everywhere and lived simply. "I wanna be the guy, who grows old with you"

I remember in our first Denver apartment when we took baths together in our claw foot tub in the big bathroom. We put a board over the top and played cards. I liked playing Uno with her in bed too. She was so funny being slightly color blind and in the dark, mixing up the greens and blues. We played Uno in Breckenridge too at that cool bed and breakfast in the fall.

2006

We had continued fun and adventure in our new home of Denver. She was doing well as a trainer for the bank and I started working in health foods. We went camping in New Mexico a couple times with friends and we both took individual trips to Oregon as well as one together for her uncle's wedding. We had marital spats on occasion but always bounced back. The issues we had seemed like part of a normal marriage and were far better than what I had grown up around. I realized that marriage was a lot of work but I was up for the task. She occasionally became aggressive throwing things at me or breaking things during conflict.  I believed I was the problem and tried to change for her in many ways. With two incomes we still had trouble making our bills at times. She had debts that I never knew about that started to catch up with us but I took care of getting them settled and we paid off her car and traded it for an older Volvo Wagon that we both loved, I even had it repainted her favorite color for a birthday gift. Overall things seemed like they were progressing in a positive way.

I remember when we saw Midnight in concert in Boulder. That was the peak of our hippy days. We were alive with pleasure in our healthy vegetarian diets and practices living in a time and place like no other. I want to be like that again. Reggae was our music. We had much in common.

2007

We really fell into our roles in our marriage and the community; church and culture, friends etc. Things seemed very balanced and appropriate for us at that time and that age (24-25). We had separate bank accounts and jobs. I had money in savings. We started the process of buying a house so we could invest in something. She became pregnant shortly after. I embraced the challenge with positive energy but we were both in for a big change. We started having more fights. I didn't have many friends and would write to old friends via social media just so I could to catch up and tell them things were going great with being married to make myself feel better than I actually did. She hated the dawn of social media and also felt isolated I'm sure. She felt I should be doing more for her and I didn't know how to do what she needed but I failed to ask a lot of the time. After one argument, she left the house. My instinct told me to look at ******* and ******* as a retaliation. I had not done this much once we were married because she always met my needs but when things were difficult between us I felt more emotionally isolated. She walked in and realized what I had been doing. She was very upset, and because she was pregnant, thought I was not attracted to her. The truth is I found her even more beautiful and in fact when I looked at ******* I tried to look at women I found less attractive than her so that I feel good about what I have. I mostly fantasized about how these women were more submissive and loving than her. That is the part I needed to feel good about and feel better about myself with because I felt very dominated and controlled. She has never forgiven me for this and I will never stop feeling sorry to her for my brokenness. During one particular argument that year she was getting close to being violent towards me again and I pushed her away on the chest with my fingertips. She got very mad and said I hurt her. I immediately felt terrible and apologized. I never let something like that happen again. I have always avoided violence towards others especially women and of course her. I was defenseless against physical and emotional abuse.

2008

Our eldest son was born at the beginning of the year, it was a traumatic birth for everyone. We wanted a natural birth with a midwife but we were transferred to a hospital and she ended up having an emergency C-section, nothing went as planned. We had a really hard time coping with the emotions of this experience. A lot of buried feelings and trauma from both of us started coming out. We moved a month later into our new home outside of town. No more walking or biking to places, we had to drive everywhere. This house was next to our friends from church. We thought this would make us feel less isolated but we didn’t really have the community with them that we had hoped for. They were upset that they didn't have a child of their own yet and being around us might have been hard for them. My wife stopped working and stayed home with our son. All these changes made for a very difficult time. I did my best to support them but this was the first time we shared a bank account and needed to follow a budget more than ever before. We had no debt at the beginning of the year with money in savings but then the hospital bills put us down about $7,000 and rising with new home and moving expenses and baby needs. My job could barely keep up. She and I had a hard time adjusting. We could not afford to travel home to Oregon and visit family as much and we felt more and more isolated. She started showing me more signs of instability, locking herself in the bathroom with kitchen knives and scraping her legs which continued off and on for years to come. Talks of divorce and suicide threats seemed to happen more than before. I felt responsible and tried to fix her ever changing issues with me.

I remember when herr ******* were full and swollen with milk. It is so beautiful the way she could feed our babies. I wanted her in every way, our bodies belonged to each other. I was there for her and our shared pleasure. I loved it when she told me that she was mine in the heat of passion. This spark could only be a bandage for so long but I didn't know that yet.

2009

I tried to promote within my company but was not selected, they were cutting budgets and employment all around me. I felt worried about our future. I had always thought the military might be a good opportunity and could move us closer to family back home. My father-in-law encouraged me to look into the Coast Guard. I felt this would be a good way to get moved closer to Oregon.  I ended up joining the Navy because we found out we were pregnant again with our second son and that was the only way I could join a military branch. She worked off and on as a nanny and later in the year at a coffee house working nights. We barely spent time together and when we did it was a lot of hard conversations or arguments about finances with making up intimately in the middle of the night between times of caring for the baby. She once scratched my neck with her fingernails during an argument. People I worked with noticed. It was a hard time and we knew change was on the horizon with jobs and moving. We did visit Oregon that summer though and had a great vacation at the beach with a borrowed 4x4 and staying at a hotel and picnicking out of a cooler as well as going to her brothers wedding. I was 26 and about to join the Navy to provide better for my family at all costs sacrificing myself for their benefit because I would have rather died than look like I didn't try my best for them.

I remember when our babies would kick and move around inside her belly. I loved laying by her and feeling her tummy. I would hum to the baby and hear them move and squirm. I loved giving our boys baths when they were babies too. We had our little bundles of our love, wrapped in a towel in our hands, so tiny and vulnerable. I miss those days and want to remember them with her, aside from this state of melancholy.

2010

The Navy recruiters would only take me if we rented out our home and had her stay with family during boot camp and training. We moved to a furnished apartment in Denver and put our things in storage. She was 5 months pregnant and our eldest was two. I shortly after was let go from my job. Our second son was born in April. I got a contract with the Navy at the last minute but didn't leave until August. We sold our beloved vehicles and lived off retirement funds for six months and moved down to Florida where her parents had just moved out of the blue for work, to stay with them until I left for boot camp. I applied for temporary work in Florida at a dozen places but had no luck in my three months there. I took care of our eldest a lot while she took care of the new baby. Being in Florida was a culture shock for us but we had our moments of romance and made the best of it. Eventually I left for boot camp in August. It was really hard and sad to be gone. She stayed in Florida and came to visit me with the baby at boot camp graduation in October. I then went to Connecticut for five months of training. It was also hard but at least I could call home every day and be in the same time zone. I visited Florida during the winter break and saw my boys and her. We went to Disney world and had a great time on her parents. We also made a romantic home movie I could enjoy while away from her. I flew back to Connecticut and tried to make the best of things. My roommate was very abusive of substances and I resisted the temptation for a long time but the threat of being submarine service bound and missing my family pushed me to drinking every weekend and getting messed up to escape before I left.

I remember when we drove to Key Largo, Florida and stopped at a crazy bird wildlife center. I remember our oldest was so amazed hearing a bird say hello back to us. It was so foreign and fun there. I am glad we all shared that experience together.

I remember our trip to the citrus grove in Florida. That was such a great day for our family. I always look back on that with really fond sentiment. I felt like I was in a beautiful family music video with them.

2011

I finished Submarine Training and got orders back to the Northwest. The plan was all coming together. I arrived first and bought a car and got our items moved from storage in Denver to our townhouse rental in Washington. She and the boys joined me a month later. I didn't report to my Sub for another month as they were at sea. She became pregnant again with our third son right after arriving. We had just bought a small car and were not planning on another child. Towards the end of the year I was working a lot and having a really hard time, being bullied and treated poorly at work plus our financial situation was still very difficult. Adjusting to the military was hard among younger men being 28. I dreaded each day in that environment but I tried to endure it for my family. I went to sea for a couple months at the end of the year stopping in Hawaii and California. During this time She reached out to her ex married affair partner after six years of no contact. She didn't tell me until later. She said she needed closure with him, we were not in counseling yet but she decided this was appropriate. I flew home early from sea and wanted to surprise her. The stress and trauma of this quick transition home after being to sea for the first time (which was also traumatic) made me want to drink and get messed up before flying. I arrived home and surprised her but I seemed off to her which I was but didn’t explain why, I have never done that since. I got to be home for two months almost work free while we celebrated the holidays and prepared for the new baby to be born. She started getting more involved with a church and building a community for us which was great. Our financial struggles almost led us to foreclosure of our home back in Colorado but by the grace of God we got it sold with a short sale just in time.

I remember when I came back from Hawaii and brought her a beaded necklace and she wore it naked with her big beautiful pregnant goddess belly and we made passionate hippy love together. I want to grow out my beard again and spend my life making hippy love and feeling free again.

2012

Our third son was born in January. It was a very positive birth experience and much less stressful than the other two. Shortly after I flew out to finish the other half of the deployment I had missed. I really focused on being positive and spiritually connected by reading my Bible at sea which was helpful. I called her when I arrived in Japan halfway through being gone. She was upset because she tested positive for an STD while trying to get on birth control. I became suspicious of her yet she was suspicious of me. We both got tested again and I was clean, she told me she had a false positive after all. This put a big strain on our trust, especially being so far away. This forced us to be honest with each other about some things such as her contact with her ex lover and my drinking to cope. We were both very upset until I returned home and we could start some counseling to work through things. Forgiveness seemed to be difficult for us. It brought up hurts of the past when we were 19. She also had severe postpartum depression that became worse after each birth. I was still having a hard time with work and the submarine environment. Our church friends tried to counsel us but it was not the most helpful. My submarine was scheduled for extended repairs and not going to sea for three years, I would be transferred before the end of that period. I used this time to bond with her and my boys. I wanted to get better involved in our community and do volunteer work and side jobs to earn extra money. Our boys were all given diagnosis's for autism which begun to fill our lives with appointments and challenges for years to come but we were a good team in dealing with all of it. It gave us something to work together on but took our focus away from working on our own personal issues and relationship with each other as much as we should have.

2013

We had new years with both sides of our family in a snowy mountain setting in Oregon. It looked like it was going to be a great year until her Grandpa passed away suddenly. It ripped our entire family apart but especially her. He kept the family grounded and she was very close to him, he really loved all of us. She and I started going on dates again because we had Navy sponsored child care. It was the beginning of a really good thing for us. Tragically one night after a date we were dancing with the boys on the patio and I tried to pick her up and I lost my balance and fell on her, breaking her collar bone severely. She needed surgery and was very mad at me for years to come. She has a scar, a metal plate and numbness in her chest. We worked through it with our community from church but she still is very mad at me. I feel more terrible about this incident than she could ever know. I would lose a finger in place of that incident if I could. I continued having a really hard time in the Navy and I didn't want to stay in but She insisted our boys needed care only the Navy could offer. She also said she would divorce me if I ever left the Navy. I took this threat seriously even though she assured me later that she would never actually do that. Against my own convictions I reenlisted because I wanted to do the best thing for my family. We moved into base housing at the end of summer and didn’t go out to do things as much anymore. The house was nice but it ****** us in, we also had less community with people around our home. I started volunteering at church more and doing work with special needs people. I felt like I was doing good things and that I had purpose all around. I think she appreciated this about me.

2014

We started seeing a professional counselor together and individually. It became a regular event. I worked on myself and she worked on herself. I had a lot of issues with my Mom and eventually broke off communication with her for my own well-being and the betterment of my family. I got past a lot of the bad feelings I had. She worked on her traumatic experiences and our relationship dynamics. Just when things were going well I got a new boss who made things hard for me and others at work and I started messing up more. I got in trouble for messing up a job at work and was given strike one on my record. She lost respect for me as a provider but I tried to stay strong showing her that I would continue to do my best.

I remember when we had an appointment in Tacoma and we had a brunch date together afterwards. She looked so beautiful that day, I took her picture and was so proud to enjoy  huevos rancheros and momosas with her. I remember going to the Tacoma Art Museum seeing the Georgia O’Keefe exhibit, we have a great time together doing new things and feeding each other's interests. I loved laughing with her too, sometimes we just bust up like nobody's around. I loved the sound of her laughter. I loved watching Portlandia with her, it is so funny to remember the funny place where we became close and be able to relate together.

2015

I kept working hard and being involved with family and appointments for my boys and her. I still maintained my volunteer work and part time side jobs. I got strike two with the Navy for messing up again... I had just gained orders to leave the sub for local shore duty. I could not get out of the extended repair situation soon enough. She was very disappointed in me and not so understanding. I worked through this situation with our counselor as did she. He always told her I am a good man and that I do a lot for her and the boys. It's true, I care more than anything about them, I made mistakes and I feel bad especially when I cause my family stress. I left for shore duty in April. It was a hard time adjusting to the new routine but eventually we seemed to make it work. That summer we took a trip to visit Texas where her parents had just moved from Florida. We spent a great night together for our 10th anniversary in a hotel in Texas and went dancing. We had a lot more time together as my work schedule was less. The more people we had in our home working with our kids on issues the less useful my input seemed. I was not included as much in making family decisions because they all seemed to happen while I was at work, despite my objections. We tried to get our budget under control but she still had anxiety discussing spending. She continued to struggle with depression and was put on medication because she had still been harming herself. She was put on Prozac daily and anti anxiety medication as needed. He family members were not very supportive of medication which upset her but I always tried to be supportive in seeking help and continued care for both of us.

2016

We had a busy routine of kids in school now and home school and preschool and appointments for all of us. She wanted to go to church less and less. I started drinking a couple beers at night almost every day. I tried to mask my stress from her mood swings. She decided not to go to church at all anymore and focused teaching the boys about Jewish traditions exclusively which was hard for me to adjust to and confusing for the boys. I loved her and wanted to be supportive. As usual I was submissive and removed myself from the Christian church and some friendships. I feel like we lost our community at that point. We searched for a good place to have a new community with Jewish people but it was like starting over. I felt like I converted to Christianity for her when we got together and now I had to convert again, either way I would have done it for her because I loved her that much. The kids were confused by this change. After trying and failing at many synagogues we finally found one that seemed right for us.

2017

We finally had some money in savings because I kept it a secret and ended up planning a trip to visit her parents in Texas but it fell through due to lack of military flights. Instead we spent three nights away in a nice hotel resort as a family in February. We had three days of pure family time. Playing Battleship and other games in our room as a family, watching movies and eating at all the different restaurants and getting room service. Going swimming everyday in the foggy pool. I love our family and how we can have a great time together doing nothing but at the same time so much. That was so peaceful and relaxing. I wanted to keep doing things like that together as a family before our boys got too old. Shortly after this vacation she wanted to go back to school, then we bought a third vehicle so she could. Shortly after this she changed her mind about school and wanted to buy another house instead. I went along with it to please her and we practically killed ourselves trying to get the move accomplished with not much help or money. We had a good year over all. We got away for a romantic anniversary together in the summer. Just before the boys were going to start public school in the fall, her parents moved back to the area. She had anxiety with this and cut off contact with her parents and brothers for a while. Her Dad called me very upset and I tried to keep the peace until they reconciled. I was doing better with work and made up for lost progress as well as making arrangements to change jobs in the Navy to something more fitting. Since the boys started public school, I planned on leaving for Navy training in my new position after the beginning of the new year when they would be at a more settled place in their routine.

I remember when we went to the Olympic Club for our anniversary and we stayed there for a night away. We drove the long way through the countryside talking about new music that she wanted to share with me and she made notes of it on my phone notepad. We brought our own cooler and picnic that included Session Lagers and chocolate. We checked in to our room and made noisy bohemian love on the edge of the creaky bed in our small European room inches from the door. Then we went to the theater downstairs and watched the late showing of a really interesting Sci-fi movie "Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets". We took showers and slept sweetly together. We made love again in the morning before we had a delicious brunch outside on the patio. We took the long way home and drove around on new roads and found our way out of cell phone reception. We figured out the road less traveled to get back to our home. We loved being alone and away together, just one night can make such a difference and mean so much.

I remember going to the Forest Theater to see Tarzan with our boys. That was such a great time. I would love to get our boys into theater and go see them someday. I wanted to keep our dreams and goals together alive and not lose opportunity and fall short by losing our partnership.

I loved going camping in Seabeck. Loading the truck with all our gear and getting away. Archer got sick from the cowboy caviar and I had to clean him and the tent up in the night. I was glad we had each other to be a team in our marriage in that situation as with all the other times. These sorts of things are what escape a person's mind when they are determined to get a divorce.

2018

We had a lot less money than the year before, again buying a house took its toll on finances as did the boys school and after school activities. I stayed very involved taking the boys to appointments and sporting practices. We stopped going to synagogue but tried to practice Judaism at home as much as possible, which I was very supportive of and involved with. She was still depressed and talking about suicide at times. I encouraged her to get help as I always had. Eventually she was diagnosed as Bipolar 2 and manic depressive by a new provider. She started taking new medicine for this and was worried I would want to leave her. I assured her I would never leave her and that I always wanted to work on things with her and help her. I left for training in Mississippi February 8th. It was going to be hard but I thought it might be good to have some time apart from each other to miss one another and reflect on things as well as prepare for times when I would be away at sea. I got in trouble in Mississippi for giving junior personnel a ride and being negligent of people who might be underage and possibly drinking, this became strike three. I never thought this could happen. I became recommend for separation from the Navy shortly after and was stuck in Mississippi for six months instead of six weeks. She was supportive through most of it but seemed to fall into hopelessness. Money was spent by her that we didn't have without discussion. She quietly leased appliances and tires and purchased a vehicle as well as having a secret bank account and email address. I discovered through our insurance company that she wanted to leave our policy for divorce. I didn't know this and she had even told the boys she wanted a divorce before I even knew. I was caught off guard and confused. I kept trying to communicate and reason with her but she didn't want to talk. I refused to give up and wrote emails and a letter but it only seemed to push her away further. By the time I left Mississippi she had filed for divorce and a restraining order against me saying I was unstable and a threat. I couldn't return to my home. My whole life fell apart in just a couple months. I found out she had been talking to other men in the Navy and keeping more secrets. I assumed this was her way of taking control during a difficult situation. I really needed her support during this hard time of transition out of the military. I became homeless, jobless and without my family in a month. I prayed to God that given time things might change between us but it was of no use. Bipolar had consumed whatever was left of my bride and there was no turning back.

I felt that our love was not one to be cast away. Other people might not understand or agree but what we had was truly special. We may have surely needed some time and space to get counseling as well as reconfigure and repair our marriage but I didn't feel like our relationship was irretrievably broken. She was so important to me and I thought she was the love of my life and would always have my heart. I wanted to be her partner in love and life, watching our boys grow up and being there to support each other. Being that she is Bipolar I knew she will need a lot of help and I was more than willing to assist her in making sure she was taking care of herself and not throwing herself into harm's way, ensuring she sticks with a plan we agree to for consistency. I cared about her deeply and had much compassion for her. I didn't believe she was thinking this through or thinking about the future. I really wanted to look at the long and short game with her, neither seemed appealing to me if we progressed but here we are. Things are not going to be easier. She will still have to face her problems and deal with me on a regular basis for the rest of our lives no matter what happens. She can believe her lawyer when they promise she'll get the moon and stars out of this in the end but they only see half of the story. Above all they want our money. It would have been good for her to face me in person and tell me she wanted to divorce and we could have started talking about it with a counselor to figure out how that could even work. Instead she chose to avoid as much responsibility for her actions as possible by doing everything in my absence as if I am not a real person. I had to find out about it from our insurance company and was last to know.

Immediately after I hear the word divorce I looked into her cell usage history and find she has a new military boyfriend that she talks to 20-30 times a day. She felt she owed me no explanation for this and it was none of my business. A mature person would have let me know about this months before and I would have seen it coming but there was no sign until it was seemingly too late. She strayed down a dark path and never turned back.

Her proposed parenting plan was cruel and had no thought put into it. Two hours a week with supervision, no holidays but father's day? She said she’s not trying to keep me from the kids but this is the exact opposite of what she’s saying with the paperwork she filed. She seems very mixed up and still you continues to make rash and sudden choices. Like a completely bogus restraining order against me that contradicts so many facts she has stated herself on record during my Navy retention process. She was so bold as to want to change her identity and even put it in ink on the divorce paperwork as well to a whole new name. That is not the actions of a stable person. She has since changed her mind again on that just as quickly as everything else in her recent life choices. I can't trust that any decisions she is making right now are for the right reasons or that she is of sound mind. I have never seen her so conflicted and confused, grasping at straws and running scared from herself.

Using the legal system so carelessly and going back and forth makes me feel like she is not ready to be making big choices and changes for her and our family. It is very unfair that she can’t consider my feelings on things and what I wish for the boys as well. Very reckless behavior. She can’t anticipate that the day would come where she has to face me and talk to me like an adult. She wants to hide behind the legal system which only leaves much to be unresolved. Ghosting me is not really an option in a marriage of 13 years with children.

Having relationship conversations is too difficult for her at this time and she would rather avoid it and skip to divorce because she thinks that will somehow be easier. I suspect she knows she is making poor choices, possibly out of fear and lust for something new and less painful than the reality of things right now. Our marriage was nowhere close to divorce when I left. She was sad to see me leave and woke with me at 3:30 am to say goodbye, making me coffee and cookies for me to take with.

Our community and accountability seems to be gone due to the continued trend of isolation that she is drawn to. The God fearing loving committed wife I thought I had is gone or trapped inside a terrified shell of herself. She cut me off from her family members and I can't discuss my concerns about her with them either. She only seems to have community with those who are not going to discourage her from these destructive choices.

I understand we have had issues and struggles but we are no worse off than other couples during challenging times. I think that because we loved each other so much it just hurt more when things got hard. I can't accept or believe this is justified or the right choice based on the positive trend we were on before I left. This was the longest break we have ever had from each other and I think she just needed someone to be there more for her, no matter who it was. Time can heal all wounds and I hope that is true for our relationship as co-parents.

She still refuses to tell me about why she wanted a divorce or talk about anything beyond caring for the kids. I have fought the restraining and I can see my boys again but I am still not allowed to my home without her permission.

I have risen from the ashes in just a couple months. I rent a room from a nice couple from our old church and obtained a good paying job while I continue paying the household bills.

This is a really hard time, this difficult spell could have been a tool to better our relationship. I wanted to experience more beautiful memories with her. We had so many more beautiful memories and dreams left to create. This is what marriage looks like to me now as I lower the casket.
This is a timeline of the major events during my 13 year marriage. Amidst the reality, I injected all the lovely memories that refuse to leave my mind.
matt Oct 2014
they say that eyes are the window to the soul and if thats so why do we hide them as to not let them show we dip are head and dont make contact. souls connect contract and become compact smoothing and soothing windows to the soul. the eye is beautiful true but to few its a weapon bent on harming you. some eyes attack at your mind tricking you over time into keeping a calm peace of mind until its time to strike you. these eyes can leave you battered and bruised all kinds of abused and feeling used. if i look at the soul and see something artificial in those holes that are the so called souls we need to see not with are eyes but are minds or we will be blind and leave are hearts behind.
Diversity of motivation among self-harming individuals

An estimated one in twelve teenagers has committed self-harm. Of those many will continue self-injuring into young adult hood. Yet older adults are not immune to committing this act. In 2003-2004 adults age 25-44 were responsible for nearly fifty percent of reported/discovered self-harm cases.  There are many reasons that people self-harm. These reasons may include self-harming as a survival mechanism, self-harm as an outer expression of inner emotional turmoil, and self-harm as a means to exercise control over one’s environment.
Contrary to popular thought, only one in ten people who make the decision to self-harm are suicidal. The majority of people who cause injury to themselves willfully have a wish to avoid killing themselves. The act of self-harm is developed as a “technique” to cope and survive the afflictions of life. How can we know that this is the reasoning or thought behind the action of self-harm? “Cutters” typically reason out the least amount of damage that will “remedy” the stress intensive situation that they find themselves in, and exercise an enormous amount of restraint in inflicting only a measured amount of damage. Cutters’ common logic is that through this expression of injury, further damage to their selves may be headed off. --------, a former cutter, attests to the reality of this when he says, “Every time that I touched a blade to my skin, I would resist making a larger cut, a deeper wound. Every time that I hurt myself, I did so only in response to what drove me over the edge; Each time the amount of physical damage that I did was the very least that I could muster. I fought to do the least damage I could, no matter how intense the pain that I felt became.” He sums it up rather nicely.
Secondly, self-harm is used as an outward expression of deeper, more complex emotional and psychological phenomena. It is not a diagnosis; it is a symptom. It is a symptom of a struggle that is inherited by victims of abuse, those who lose a loved one, or experience other traumatic events during their childhood. These groups are far more likely to indulge in self-harm. One study conducted by Boudewyn and Liem found that of those college students that reported a history of self-harm, fifty two percent had been sexually abused as a child. Those that self-harm do not simply cut to cut, burn to burn, or mutilate to mutilate. There is a deeper motivation. This motivation is commonly emotional. These motivational emotions are often the results of tragic or traumatic life experiences. It is seldom that a cutter’s motivation is a want for attention.  In fact, most cutters are chameleons.
Self- harm is used as a tool to exercise control in a chaotic environment over which one would not otherwise have any means to control. Among chaos and turmoil such as the loss of a parent or close friend, relational betrayal, divorce of one’s parents, or consistent, one time, or sporadic physical, emotional, or ****** abuse an individual is radically more likely to engage in self-harm. Outside reasoning on this is only speculative. For this reason it is valuable to look at the action from the perspective of those who commit it. Cody, the same individual mentioned earlier says something else that lines up with this common scholarly opinion. He says “I remember the very first time I cut myself intentionally. I was in the ninth grade, in the school bathroom. I had just experienced what I saw as betrayal by my best friend of about ten years. I felt like I lost him. I felt like things were spinning out of control, and I couldn’t control the way I felt about it all. The only way I could feel that control was with something sharp in my hand.” This is characteristic not only of ----- but also of many other cutters.
Cutters are not (necessarily) crazy. On the surface it may appear that cutting goes against the ingrained survival and self-preservation instincts in human beings. This is actually the opposite of the truth. Many who cut feel that if they don’t inflict smaller harm to themselves that they may indeed fall to suicide. They feel that by letting out their pain in increments, and escaping in fragments, that they can slay the thoughts of suicide and urges to escape that they carry. When at the edges of rational, some instincts may take different forms. What may seem counter intuitive – an act of self-harm – becomes the definition of an instinct that it seems to defy. The desire to survive becomes so strong that it is necessary to inflict pain. This is not uncommon to survival situations. For example, the movie 127 Hours reenacts the experience of a man trapped under a boulder in a beautiful and secluded gorge. He cut off his own arm with a dull multi-tool in order to escape death. That act is the epitome of self-harm as a survival instinct.
Cutting could lead to a series of events that tailspin out of control. Loss of control could take the form of the spiral of therapies and prescriptions that would follow if it were discovered that one were cutting , or it could be the accidental slip of a blade gone too far. It could end in hospitalization. It could even end in death. However, those individuals who choose to cut, as long as sober, take precautions to avoid discovery or more injury than is intended. They are meticulous, careful even. They reason out how, where, and when they can cut “safely”. They are very much in control over the act, when they feel they cannot be in control of anything else.
It may rationally appear that pain is pain. That it would make no difference whether out or inward, because whatever its state, the pain is still owned by the individual. However, emotions are often harder to process than physical events. A burning rage, hate or guilt may well be harder to cope with than a burn to one’s arm, leg, or hand. An emotional cut to the bone may be less painful than a physical one. It may be said that the act does not transform the pain, but multiplies it. This in essence may be true, but one form of pain allows a man to ignore another. A pinch may allow a man to ignore the emotional pain of a nightmare. A small cut may allow ignorance of the bigger cut on one’s spirit or psyche.
There are widely varying and increasingly complex variations of motivation and cause of self-harm. They may include, but are absolutely and in no way limited to: self-harm as a coping or survival mechanism, self-harm as a tool to exercise control over one’s increasingly chaotic environment, and self-harm as an outer expression of inner emotional turmoil. To believe that cutting is simple is to nearly deny it altogether. Its essence is complicated. Stereotyping self-harm or self-harmers may well lead to opinions that will ostracize or further encourage the occurrence of self-harm.  Since the motivation and causes of self-harm are undeniably complex, to attempt to brush this under a rock would be to diminish its importance, and to deny healing to those who need to understand it.
Earl Jane Jul 2015


You are a really good fisherman,



And I am just but a foolish fish,




                                                       ­                      Preposterously bitten your hook,
                                                    With your bait of feigned love attached to it,

  



                                   Piercing it all the way to my heart,


                  Leaving me wounded with all of those prevaricates I've fell for,


But I don't know why,

                            I still love the feeling,

                                         That you've been jumping in gladness,

                                             That you've finally caught me,



Even though I was hardly breathing,

               'Cause you've taken  me away from the place,

                                  That makes me breathe and gives me joy.


                                 It somehow gives me relief,

                 Seeing the auspicious sun,

Brightly gleaming into my beautiful scales,

Not knowing it was just a start of a baleful Gehenna!




                    I should've known all along that it's just an entice!




                              But I am still blessed,


           'Cause I have manage to escape,

                                While damaging and harming myself in the process,


From the jailhouse that you've locked me in.




                                                      ­From then on,


              You've learned a lesson,


  

And use NET instead.



                       © Earl Jane
                         ♥ E.J.C.S.
Craig Harrison Sep 2015
In the shadows he waits
watching
looking down upon the world
judging
giving us everything
but taking it away

We **** and keep on killing
we harm and keep on harming
we destroy and keep on destroying
never changing

We were not made in Gods image
we were made in the Devils
the species never changed
never will
So in the shadows he waits
watching
looking down upon the world
judging
giving us everything
but taking it away
all the time
We **** and keep on killing
we harm and keep on harming
we destroy and keep on destroying
never changing
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
. she was 19, i was 21, and i guess i was the first boy who treated her decently, allowed her to slap me in the face and stood like a copper statue before her... she wouldn't have made it at university among all the English yuppies, being pregnant... turns out, she might have opted for the Juno (the movie) route... all i know is that she graduated with a masters in anthropology... she was up in Edinburgh, i was back in London, roofing with my father doing the Scottish Widows HQ and then some other project, trying to weave myself into a managerial position in some roofing company... but then? the psychosis spiral... oddly enough - no hammers, no hearing voices wielding a hammer running down the street naked... contained... walked into a church near King's Cross st., lay on beside a the side altar, pulled the cloth from the altar, and wrapped myself in it... then heard singing, had my iPod with me... turned it off... turned it on again, turned it off... the singing still echoed the church... got up, put the cloth back onto the altar and started running around the church aisles... then a great wind dispersed the singing... what kept my sanity? well... given that i was smoking marijuana and fasting? one word... sátān... the whole 40 days in the desert? cut short... in a concrete desert... i phoned my then ex-girlfriend to meet me at this spot outside the church - right across from a royal mail HQ - and i remember the words: can you bring me bread, and water? nothing... on my own then... no... that sort of experience is no cause for jubilation, there is no ******* euphoria: you're talking about ******* it - in my case? thankfully that's only metaphorical... and i'm not buying the psychiatric *******, the easy way out answer: ooh... but youz ver in a church... what?! what the **** are these people talking about? sober people are allowed to have these experiences? well, really?! so why so many of them are negating or doubting intellectuals?! negation is the new doubt... somehow i managed to fend off the atypical munchies routine while smoking marijuana while walking in public... never bothered me... i was a reggae ***** at the time... notably Israel Vibration, Stephen Marley, Damian & Culture... & ***** and the Maytals... cliche, i know... but **** and rap?! seriously? gangster whatever the hell that means... i've just read an article about cultural appropriation... so what has the Jamaican Rastafarian culture have to do with Old Testament prophets?! JAH... they're always singing about JAH... it's a ******* yak! yah! a german YA! cultural appropriation my ***! it's Jamie Oliver's **** sauce! ****'s sake! yeah, right, Bambi on Jamaica smoking a silly one doing the reinvention of king David's psalms... no cultural appropriation there... nope... none... nothing... nothing wrong with Alpha Blondy singing about Yerushalem... nope... no cultural appropriation.... nope... none... nothing! i mentioned these bands to my Jamaican **** seller... big on the Illuminati conspiracy theories, i liked to listen to him ramble... hardly a Charlie Temple paranoid... loved his ox tail broth, his grandma made it for him... and a pretty daughter, but no mother... eh? his Thai ****? i'd prefer the shorter span of a tobacco high... where? near my old high school, Canon Palmer R.C. - now a ******* academy! whoop! whoop! sound the klaxon! you don't experience what i've experienced and start a cult with *** ****** in mind... like **** if you think you do... you... lay low... you puncture the existentialist exodus from Cartesian doubt - namely outright negation - and you wait for the revitalization of doubt, namely the pop culture variant of belief... doubt is, oddly enough, a variant of belief... and belief? be a leaf... just remember you were once attached to a branch of a tree.

yeah...

        a catholic school isn't
exactly a Jesuit school...

but being asked questions
about abortion
and euthanasia

   aged 15 or 16?

in real life?
  you short-circuit, glitch,
become ronin -

    the personal life, details?
too messy...
   she tells you she's taking
contraceptives,
   she's ends up self-harming...
she says she was abducted
and held for ransom,
she's a russian citizen,
her ex-boyfriend is still
hanging around,
  a son of some Russian oligarch...
you've only dated for a
bunch of months that do not
even make it half a year...
you don't mind condoms,
because... hell...
you'd love to see her wearing
latex...

     you know, the usual bits & bobs...

voodoo...
    for some strange reason i woke
up, and the ring finger blister
on my left hand, made by burning
out a cigarette on it
started bleeding:
  close to the bone -
and look! you get a slot motion
of your body recovering!
  no disclaimer concerning
the pros to what sharp objects
women do, by cutting...

but you know...
      asking a 15 / 16 year old
about his opinion
  about either abortion
or euthanasia?
  bad ******* move...
           at this point i'm thinking:
thank ****...

what does it even mean,
when a woman says it,
she's not exactly point-break
on Cartesian logic...

'matt, i think i'm pregnant'
'well, you know what you should
do, get an abortion.'

mind you... i am a citizen of a country
where abortion is legal...
hell, it might have worked,
*** was good, she could
reciprocate that sentiment...

oh, but if there is a kid at the end
of the tunnel?
i **** sure hope he doesn't
contact me, like a kid from
a ***** donor clinic...
      there's something malicious
waiting for him for me
to add about his mamma -

   aligned?
oh you know... *****, Henny,
  Diana and the Egyptian...
   go Charlie go!

                  please please keep
your name... we need a Charles trinity!

so yeah... Roman Catholic school...
****! oh right, outer east end of London...
Paddy central...
               i wonder...
                  but i'll never know...
the Polish Catholics are leaving...
               good on 'em...
          (yadda yadda, yeah yeah, for them)...

i'll never know...
   am i angry?
               i listen to Byzantine and Templar
chants and drink to a well earned
excess...
               sometimes the odd Bulgarian
******* to hug...
    
oh right... that one last time?
i didn't forget my genitals...
   i did an uncourteous lax of etiquette...
****!
           now it makes sense!
i forgot to trim my ***** hair!
(mumbling out) ******* eureka.
Amy I Hughes Oct 2012
It can't hurt us
Or harm us
To harmlessly flirt
But they see us
And warn us
And harmfully assert
The grass isn't greener
It's grayer
Than dirt


You want me
Curiously
I'm bitter to the taste
You make me laugh
Addictively
Addiction here laced
If we were there
If we weren't
Spill of the chase



Acting coy
Just acting
For everyone's eyes
Ours lock
And look
Internally decide
What harm
We seek
To whom do we lie?



Just friends
Friends playing
With poison in cups
If you drink
The venom
From your veins I will ****
The scars
Won't move
There is no luck



Raw fantasy
Fresh meat
My mind wanders mud
Play cheat
Cheat the joker
Roses in bud
Come closer
Look at me
Feel the heat of my blood

*

It can't harm us
Or hurt us
To flirt harmlessly
They'll watch us
So we must
Chase silently
In our heads
It shall stay
That question 'If we...'
I loved her.

Before I even gazed upon her

I loved her

Before I was even dazed by her words of splendour

I loved her

Not for her ability to
charm others
as even though she just as often harmed others

Not for her straightforward intelligence
for she shared a forward thinking
dissidence

And not for her beauty & majesty did I love her

Because not far from often, did she bring cruelty and calamity too others that I did love

And when I loved her, it wasn’t because of her bountiful spirit

For when one drove responsibility towards her
she was both accountable and idyllic
her innate strength insurmountable & prolific

And my love did not come from her humble yet dominating origins

Hunters and gatherers roaming in forests

Nor her families evolution, amongst changing nations
into cultural irrigation, harvesting & cultivation

Yet my love was neither superficial

wrought by a feverish desire for atypical minerals

As it is evident she grew up to live lavishly, as if she were a daughter of kings and pharaohs, emperors and regents

Far from superficial
it went beyond my own existence
‘tis was it deep

And watching her grow up
yet older and slowly darker
it flooded me with a sense of grief

For that was the only side she showed me, and allowed others to see

But beyond the seas and ravines, ridges & fjords, she beamed

And that is how it felt for a time
her happiness distant and far gone

Looking back it’s blatant she was far from dormant

But I believe during that time she was merely misled

It took time to connect her heart with her head

And for a time it seemed she was finally ready to proceed

And that was all but my dream
for her

But in my heart, I knew she would waver and ultimately capitulate towards the darker times

I think, even though she was mature and grown

not enough time separated her from her home

a family always wanting to dominate and roam

The precedence was set
The credulous to fret

And even though it’s in her nature to align with basic instincts

I awaited,
like those in scriptures
for a sign
that leads her to brighter precincts.

Of this hope

it was something I dreamt about
until I was left awoke

It was a scathing cycle, hopes festered
with a heart broke

And in the depth of my despair
I was still convinced,
that behind her “politics” & warring nature with others,

that the woman I loved & dreamt, was still there

And you know what?

She convinced me

Not deceitfully nor schemingly
but seemingly
through action

She was on a phase of exploration
visiting foreign nations
and establishing relations

Truth was
All of it was a ruse
corrupting & enslaving
it was just another way of experssing her roots

Since then, I’ve never been lead astray, I knew it was just one big game

Even though I never believed that’s who she wholly
was and is

I can’t help but fell this is the way it is

Her being at an unbeknownst
war with herself

One that expresses all she can be
charming, beautiful, full of majesty

That she is the most complex & admiring existence in this universe

And another of opposite birth

One that can be harming, full of cruelty and calamity

And of this side I fear brings the other to her knees

And it ladens me with tears

But of this side of her
I fail to recognise,
as the woman I loved,
and it’s the only failure
I won’t rectify

The woman I loved,
the beautiful glimpses of allure,
that sparks through the impure and demeaning

Is the only meaning I can find within myself to breathe

But I’m lost
Lost in her mystery
Lost in the past

Because, I don’t see her anymore
giving rise to my love in the past tense

For I don’t know where she lives or with whom she spend her time
with

But of the worst fear I hold within my heart
is that the woman I loved never existed to begin with

That the idea of her was just a figment
of my idealistic mind

That all these years,
I conjured a fallacy of this supposed
“Benevolent”
side of her
so I could forgive what she had
imposed

And that I believed & fought so fervently  
in her
because in hope
it would bring life to her

Whatever the reality
I will never put cease
to my belief
that I will see her

Why?

Because the person
of whom I am talking about
is

Humanity

And she is the most beautiful thing I’ve known, regardless of her flaws
My take on personifying history X
Mermaid Sep 2013
In this entry, I would like to underline the big importance of the "body", and why we have to accept it as an element of the material sacred being.

Body has very long history of acceptance and "rejection", specially concerning religions and different sects in many cults. Since the history, the living body is accepted as equal to the living being (means soul) and the dead body is accepted as the dead being - in materialistic point of view. In all religions though, we can see totally different view. The Body is not eternal, but it doesn't contain the limits of the being, as long as we believe in eternal soul. In course of religion understanding and history of religious practices, no one could accept the person as equal to the body, and only body. We can see some elements in the this direction, which are significant for the term body :

1.... it is not eternal - it's subjected to the changes of time;
2.... it's growing and developing in time;
3.... it has specific needs, in order to keep it alive (water, oxygen, food)
4.... it has inner instinct of survival;
5.... it has inner instinct of reproduction (****** desire)
6.... it has unique characteristics in every individual ,special genetic code;
7.... it has system of accepting, and system of "cleaning" products;

I'm sure there is a lot more to be said, but as I want to be short, I will continue. Now from all we can't come to the conclusion, which is one of the most important in aspect of God and religion : namely- the Body is Sacred and It's gift from God.
If we assume that the spirit and soul is center of the being  and life does not finish with the death, we have to take in mind the special role of the body -as a sacred ark, or unique box, which is made to preserve the inside. In this respect, Body is sacred and all actions made to harm the body is equal to committing a great sin. The actions, which we have to absolutely claim as Sinful and against God, as well as against the essence of being are also sinful in all religions:

1. Killing someone (which is act of taking his freedom and his essence forever)
2. Act of conscious suicide (which is also the same as "killing" but you don't have right on it)
3. Act of harming or "punishing" anybody with aggressiveness, beating or any other way.
4. Act of cruelty (which is the special list of sins) of harming parts of body by cutting it.
5. Act of any cruelty to human and animal.
6. Act of forceful ****** ******* to any human being;

As we can recognize, all possible black sins are connected with the body. The kind of some punishments in some religions (as stoning in Islam, flogging, cutting a head of and others, very close to the Medieval times of tortures) are also equal to black sins and provoke Inevitably bad Karma on anyone who is involved in them. Take care, that the act of suicide, no matter what the reason is - is also sinful, as this means total disgrace of God's will.
There was one case (or rather many cases in my country) in XXI century : a woman, depressed from the poor and miserable life throw herself under the metro, but she didn't succeed to die. Instead her both legs were cut off. As we ca think, this act of cruelty against herself is sinful and will bring for her even worse karma. That means, the suicide is egoistical - except from some special cases, connected with strong unbearable pain or illness, which is out of recovery). This woman should have children and husband, or any relative, who would need her help. Now she makes them not only suffer with her action, but also burden of herself and her body. It may sound cruel too, but it's the fact. Here we come to the next important conclusion:

We don't won our body! The same as we don't "own" anything connected with material things around, so we don't own our body too, as we don't own our destiny. It's very easy to think that: as in first place we born not in the place we choose to, we born not from the parents we choose to, and not in society we choose to! All that facts are enough (plus we don't die also in moment we choose to.) to be certain, that we don't own our body. First of all, the force, which create it own it only - God. Here is time to say also : nothing and totally nothing is our property, except what this Sacred body contains! (spirit, soul, thoughts, aura) that is only what we really own. If we think deeply, we could see that's the truth. We don't own our children, no matter that we are responsible for them all the time! We are also not property of our parents, or anyone else. The wife is not a property of her husband, as well as the opposite, but she belongs to him in the way of heart and love.

As anything in the world is changing, developing and degrading by the time, so the human body has it's own changes. Even so, we need to know : we don't own our body, but we are it "caretakers", guardians, and take our responsibilities on our body. And that is without a doubt Obligatory. It means the following: if my body is in bad health, or I suffer from something, no matter of that I didn't choose it, but I choose if I can change that condition or not. If I smoke for example, and feel something is not well in me, and I have cough- just that- I'm obliged to stop smoking, as that harms my body, Any other act - of not taking care -will be a mistake - if we don't use here the strong word-sin. Body- mine or of others- is a sacred gift. We have to cherish it all the time, since birth. Most of all the children are vulnerable to anything, so we have to create in them love to their bodies, and not opposite. We have to protect them, as we want later on they to protect themselves and their children. but most of societies are too ignorant about that.

Examples of alcohol and aggression in the family are millions. Examples of **** and abuse in any country - specially of more poor and ignorant societies - are millions. Example of slaughter, cruelty and anti-humanity actions, extreme movements, covered by religious /Devils masks- are millions and growing.

As the world is going wild, without to have any idea of sacred things, what about sacred body and life, we become so little responsible for our actions, as we forget the law of karma in the nature.

We are much behind, than we were some centuries ago. And the reason is the change of living order and what is "priority" for all human societies. We are much behind, going backwards. and just a few individuals could see the light, even less- to touch it.

:: In conclusion I would like to say: as the whole body is sacred, it's a precious box, containing unique code for us. We have to take care - and it's a real obligation, not to possess, but take care of our bodies, the same as our soul. Each part of our body is sacred, means if I have pain in an part and I don't take care of it, the fault and punishment will be only mine, and the suffer too. By taking care of body means very simple things : live in natural way, take care of the foods you eat, as that is substantial for the body. Take care of each part of our body, and if you notice any sign of illness, take measures to prevent it. Do some simple exercises and rules for having the good shape of the body you want. Purity of the body reflects on all your being. (the same for ****** life).

Be familiar with needs of your body and provide them in any moment! Be aware of pains and the week points, don't accept harmful ingredients (drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, strong medicines, chemicals), and try to live as close to the nature as possible. That is the only way.
As many Chinese wise men say, "Healthy spirit in a healthy body" and that is part of the purpose.


:: mermaid  ::
:: September-08-013
:: 3.36 pm ::
{not a poem} Sorry about mistakes, I appreciate any help!
Brian Miller Oct 2011
I'm a democrat and republicans want this war to continue. People needs to wake up!

I'm a republican and democrats want to keep spending despite our failing economy. People needs to wake up!

I'm a Christian and Jesus will be coming soon. The Non-Christians and non-religious need to wake up!

I'm a  radical Muslim and the west is going to take over. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm a atheist and the religious radicals are trying to take over the country. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm a bigot and gays, Jews and blacks are taking over. People need to wake up!

I'm an optimist and the world will recover. Pessimists need to wake up!

I'm a pessimists and the world is messed up. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm a teacher and school is necessary for society to function. Kids need to wake up!

I'm a vegan, because eating of and torturing of animals is inhumane. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm not a vegan because animals are needed for our survival. Vegans need to wake up!

I'm anti-school and school is a prison. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm a racist and other races will take over. My people need to wake up!

I'm an anarchist and the government is robbing us of our rights. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm pro-government and society needs order. Anarchists need to wake up!

I'm an environmentalist and we are harming the planet. Mankind needs to wake up!

I'm anti-environmentalism and the earth is fine. Environmentalists needs to wake up!

People, wake up!! I'm a 9/11 truther and 9/11 was created by the government.

I'm against truthers and 9/11 was caused by terrorists. Truthers need to wake up!

I'm a conspiracy theorist and the government is hiding things from us. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm against animal testing because its unethical. People need to wake up!

I'm for animal testing because we need to make sure our inventions work. Everyone needs to wake  up!

I'm a sexist and the opposite gender is taking over. My gender needs to wake up!

I'm a creationist and evolution is a lie. Everyone needs to wake up!!

I'm a scientist and creationism is a lie. Creationists need to wake up!

I'm anti-capitalism because it robs people of  their money. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm pro-capitalism because most wealthy nations are capitalists. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm pro-death penalty because some people need to die. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm anti-death penalty because criminals are people too. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm a militant and everyone is an enemy. We need to wake up!!

I'm against war because war is ******. Everyone needs to wake up!!

I'm a climate change denier and global warming is a scam. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm a climatologist and global warming is real. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm pro-life and abortion is ******. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm pro-choice and its the woman's choice. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm anti-gun law and people are crazy. Everyone needs to wake up!

I'm pro-gun law and people are crazy with guns. Everyone needs to wake up!





Wake up, Its a brand new day.....
Mermaid Jul 2013
In the second part of my thoughts about Purity,  would like to observe the different stages and levels of Purity. I accept the statement, that here "in this world" we can't be "perfectly pure", but also we should clarify what to understand under term "pure". We can't aim something impossible to achieve, but we can observe simple rules and make definition of "pure". Of course anyone can be "pure" person, if he want that, and it's not hard to be achieved.  Purity does not mean to be "perfect". The fact that we are all in our human body and "here" means automatically that we are not perfect. It doesn't mean we can't be pure. Now I'll determine what i mean with that. First of all, all people are born "pure" or as some kind of "tabula raza" (clear table) and the different circumstances, the different social level and the different connection with God/ or with self-consciousness make them go to a different path. We know very well that children are "innocent" and pure, they are not guilty as far as they are not able to show and express their real "self". they are in stage of innocence, but not of wisdom - which is the choice of will. (Swedenborg *). They are example of purity of heart - they talk and act from inside without any hidden intentions, or if they seem to have any, it's just by "outside" character. They have strong intuition an ability to feel the others heart. That all qualities of children we try to achieve again in our parts of life. What we have to learn and achieve is "how" to be pure. Even it's easy, it requires qualities and patience, and on the first place "will".

I. - Purity of heart :
How to achieve purity of heart? There are several rules you should observe, if you want to have pure heart. First of all the heart is center of the body, it's connected with our emotions, feelings and provides blood to all body. The heart represents actually:
1. truth (to be connected to the truth. Try to always speak out your real mind, show your real self)
2. love (have pure love to others - as first christian principle!) love others and love God
3. believe (when you believe without to want proof, that is the true faith) Believe in yourself and others.
4. God (connection with God, represented by prayer)
5. forgiveness (learn how to forgive and do not seek for revenge! that makes your heart pure of evil feelings) We can conclude the 5 principles inside the understanding of "purity of heart". They are well known and widely spread in all religious principles of Christianity, Islam, Buddhism. First of all, never conceal the truth, which you know, means do not tell lies, no matter if that will harm others or not. Truth is the first step to purity. If you feel very hard to say the truth, as you feel you are harming another, you should first heal your heart, and see that truth never can harm. You should say the truth about others too, if anyone has their "own truth", be aware that the truth of God is one, and he can see any moment your spiritual body. If you know something, which is harmful for anyone, so you don't want to say it, that will cause problems later in your life, for your health -your heart or your throat will suffer, or to the same person you wanted to "protect". In all religions the truth is one of the basis for good life. Do not hide your real face, as that is also equal to lie.
2. Love to others means - do not harm others, do not ****, do not make suicide, do not harm anyone's body or soul -by words or physically. Any human has right and it's here because of God's willing! If you take life for anyone on the planet -no matter the reasons, you play like "God", and that will send you to the bad end and out of spirit. It will remove from you all power. That is one of the biggest sin. You can not play to be God, and all his power will return to you, as there is justice but in "Spiritual" world. Don't seek complete justice on earth. There is not how it works - as all we are in the test, while we live. Can the teacher give all answers for the students, while they are in exam? of course no, but teacher can help for some willing students with clues. So the second principle for pure heart is "love the other - your fellow as yourself. - (as Jesus said) It's really hard to achieve, but if you do, you will be rewarded , because that is the real love. and not egoistic love. When you love your fellow, you allow all negative feelings to "him" and connected to world to flow away from your heart, do not allow anger to possess you, or any negative feeling, as they make your heart "unclean" for a long time. Also it's not good to hide your bad feelings inside, as they will harm you again and again. Release them forever.
3. Believe in God, trust others, and don't be very doubtful, because that will also harm your heart only. The one who really believe- as the most simple and ignorant people - so he is really pure in heart. So try to not be suspicious too much, and doubt in case that is the normal reaction. Of course it doesnt mean to believe in "any craziness' or fantasy, it means simply to choose to "believe" if you have this choice! for example there are many stories of jealousy, burning the heart of someone, when he reach to this point to **** or harm his beloved, and after that the truth reveal he didn't have reason to doubt. But so he lost all!
4. God = faith in God. that is a basis in any religion, and that is how people, who believe get strength from the source. Prayer is the most beneficial and fast way to God, and the only practice to purify your heart. If you do not believe in any God, that doesnt mean you can't pray inside yourself, or to find way to heal your heart. Anyone can find the way for himself. The prayer is the most intimate relation of human with God. - and also with the higher-self and with his pure heart. that how the prayer makes you pure. (if you want to achieve results pray at least 3 times a day, it maybe short prayers inside you, but from heart.)
5. Forgiveness - it includes all above elements of the "pure heart" - truth, love, believe, faith, but also allow your heart to pour out the bad feeling of "revenge", anger, sorrow, impatience, egoism. We should avoid all this feelings and claim them as source of bad energy. If you are "in fire" or in argument with someone, if you have different views, opinions and directions in life, dont allow anger to possess you, as then you are the one who fall in trap. If you are sad from anything, dont allow your heart to be fully in sorrow ,as that is harming you. If you need something fast and your desire is good, dont allow yourself to be impatient, as that will harm your heart. All these feelings are mentioned because of forgiveness. No matter what, you have to forgive others, if they ask for that! if they dont ask, so forgive them inside yourself, because that how your heart will be clean from the evil. If they don't want to forgive you, then their heart will suffer, and it's unfortunate.

observe all this principles, and you'll have the first basic step for "pure heart". Speak always the truth, that will make you happy and confident, don't hide your real face, will release you from the fear, Love your fellow, will make you more open-minded, believe and have faith in God, the prayer will strengthen your heart connection and make you free of bad feelings, be forgiving, don't keep the bad emotions inside you, pour out of your heart anything not necessary for it. In this way you will be very near to be pure!

-nour-
July-013

Copyright © Nina Nour
not a poem ~
Ralph Akintan Jan 2019
Harmless showery harming
Drove of peddling mongers.
Harmless harming torrent
Harming horde of hucksters.
Humming a melody of venting
      distraction.

Pouring brimful harmless rain
      like glacier racing across the
      cliff of rocks.
Shutting doors of coop out of
      the sphere of ataraxis.

Watching helplessly from the
      refuge of dislocation for
      receding arms of a
      tyrannical torrent.

But spitting fire produced no
      venom of fire.
Heralding floods of occupation
Colonising footway of the bloc.
Emissaries of fertility from the
      sky hoarding tranquillity.
Marking time out of attention.

Rain no more !
Edward Coles Jul 2014
“You know the worst thing I ever saw?” He asked.

I sighed to myself, took another gulp of beer and fixed him with a look of half-interest. He was drunk. A complete ****-up and a bore when he's drunk. I don't know why I drink with him. That said, he probably thinks the same.

“What's that?”
“Bedsheets over the benches in the church yard.”
“Ye-what?”
“Bedsheets over the benches in the church yard. For the homeless.”
“The homeless. Right.”
“I'll get us another drink.” he says, “then I'll start where I left off.”
“Oh, good.”

He comes back with two bottles. We drink and we start talking about football. We're just about getting by before he raises his palm to his face.
“Aw, ****. I forgot, yeah. The worst thing I ever saw. I never told you.”
“You did. Bedsheets over the benches in the church yard. For the homeless.”
“Yeah yeah, but that doesn't really say much, does it? You're probably wondering to yourself why that would **** me off so much?”

Not really. He's the type of no-action, all-caring, bleeding heart that sits on his fattening **** every day, 'liking' rhetorical captions over pictures, and signing petitions to axe some ***** politician or other.
“I guess. Shoot.”

He shoots.
“I wanna burn down the churches. Seriously. Stupid ******* religious folk. I bet they go home and post pictures up of themselves, all busy in the soup kitchen, ladling minestrone into some poor *******'s styrofoam bowl.
“They'll never touch them. Always at arm's length. You don't wanna breathe in the pathogens of the anti-people...”
He slurred a little, went to carry on, but took another gulp of beer instead.
“What does that have to do with bedsheets over the benches in the church yard?” I took a gulp myself, this time watching him with a little more interest. Probably just because he looks like he could spew at any moment.
“You're not letting me finish...”
He finishes his beer, gets up, almost bumping into his piano-***-keyboard. He's off to the fridge again. I have a look around while he's out of the room. I can hear him ******* in the kitchen sink.

I've seen the place a million times before but it always has a whole bunch of new **** tacked up on the wall or else bundled in the corner. He's no hoarder, just gets bored and throws out all the stuff he bought the year before.
There's a framed picture of himself on the wall, cradling his Fender as if he's a master of the arts. It's signed, too.
I've seen him play. Probably will tonight. Wouldn't be surprised if he's written a protest song called: bedsheets over the benches in the church yard. The old **** can't even hit an F major with regularity.
He'd decided to put up his vinyl sleeves on the wall like a 17 year old would with an array of **** pop-punk band posters.
Blink and you might think he's the new John Peel or Phil Spector. Stare, and you'll realise he's twice as crazy, yet half as talented and half as interesting to listen to.
His room is like a CV to show to interesting, young indie women. Shame he's hitting forty now,and hasn't been to a club in about 3 months.
Last time we went he just sulked in the corner and got too drunk. He cried in the smoking area about his job before going round and asking attractive girls whether they think he's too old to be out. Most didn't even bother to give an answer. Probably best.

He comes back in with more beer.
“A-anyway...” He says, groaning a little like an old man as he settles back into the chair. “As I was saying...” he sloshes beer on the carpet, rubs it in with the heel of his shoe. He spits on the mark and then rubs again.
“What I was saying was that the church would be a whole lot more useful to the homeless if it was burned down. A condemned building is a whole lot more useful than being looked down on by holier-than-thou, middle-class, white Christians.
“They go home after an hour, bolt the church doors, and then watch TV in their brand new conservatories that they spend several thousands on. Just give the losers a place to shoot up and sleep in safety. That makes sense, right?”
“I guess so.”
I couldn't think of a change of conversation. So I just drank some more and pulled out a cigarette. It's nice to smoke inside for a change.

“It's a ****** ******* awful thing. If people were actually religious, they'd throw open their ******* doors for everyone. It's what Jesus would do, right?”
“Right.”
“He'd have all the **** in his bedsit, piled in like sardines, spreading TB like wildfire.”
“And that's a good thing?”
“Well, it can't be any worse, right? Sleep's important. I learned that the hard way.”

He didn't learn it the hard way. Not really. He's a self-motivated, self-harming insomniac. He spent his teenage years listening to bad music and staying up too late ******* over his French teacher. I should know, I mostly did the same.
He hit the **** pretty hard during college. Never really looked back until recently. ****** him up worse than you'd reckon. He couldn't sleep without the stuff. Man, if you'd have seen the poor guy whenever he couldn't get hold of some for the night. Eesh.

“...you know what I mean though? I'm sick of charity. Those fun-runs you get. A load of women in pink pretending that they care about breast cancer, before posting a million and one pictures up of them in ankle warmers and a kooky hat...”
“**** of the Earth.”
“Yup. Right up there with the women who have 'mummy' as their middle name on Facebook.”
“Yeah.”
“Honestly though, it's the laziest form of charity. Throwing a couple old, mouldy bedsheets out on some bird-**** bench made of wood and ancient farts...”
“It is pretty lazy.” I drank some more.

It was getting late. We swallowed three temazepams each, moved onto the cheap shiraz once we ran out of beer. We leant back in our chairs, barely talking and letting Tame Impala supply the conversation for us.

“You know what?” I ask, pretty much out of nowhere. His eyes have narrowed. He's not sleepy, just ****** on ***** and tranquillizers. He takes a moment.
“Huh?”
“From what you were saying earlier... you know, about the bedsheets over the benches in the church yard. For the homeless.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, why don't you?”
“Why don't I what?”
“Burn it down.”
“The church?”
“Well, you go on about being lazy and ****. Here's your chance. Help the homeless. Break the locks, pour the petrol, take out a few bottles of wine if you find any...”
“Now?”
“I guess so. Homeless folk are dying of pneumonia out there. Not a second can be wasted.”
“I dunno. I didn't mean I had to do it. I was just saying...”
“I guess they were just saying too.” I felt like I was being a ****, so I changed the subject to women I haven't laid.

I stumbled home leaning on my bicycle all the way. Daylight was just about visible off in the distance. I passed two homeless guys on the way back, gave one of them a fiver, the other one my big mac and the last of my cigarettes (well, leaving a couple for myself).
They said thanks, god bless you, etc, etc. I carried on walking.

I woke up the next afternoon with a mouthful of sand and in desperate need of a hangover ****. I hadn't shaved in about two weeks and there were dark circles under my eyes. I thought about going out to the diner for a full breakfast, but strange people were beyond me.
I ordered a pizza full of meat and grease and garlic sauce instead. I text him to see if he wanted to come over and nurse the hangover with a little ****. Watch a film. Get drunk again. He still smokes it on special occasions, and this ******* of a hangover was pretty **** special.
No reply, and I end up rolling up a joint for myself, smoking it by the window and watching the magpies peck around the grass. It's nice out.

The pizza guy comes. He's holding the pizza up like a map, calls out in a bored sort of voice: “Hello sir. I've got a large Palermo Pizza here, with a side of chicken strips and a can of Dandelion and Burdock?”
I say yes and he hands it over.

I tip him with the coins still left in my wallet from the night before, and he sheepishly says he picked up my post for me as well.
I look down at the pizza I'm holding, and there's a few envelopes that look suspiciously like bills, rival takeaway leaflets, and the local paper. I say thanks, give him the best sort of smile I could, and then close the door.
I turn on the TV. I forgot the England match was on. I turn over to something more interesting. There's nothing, so I switch back over. Before I open up the pizza, I take the paper. A small-town existence, nothing ever happens, but I could do with a new job.

The front page is on fire. A church has been burned down in the early morning. A forty-something man has been arrested and then taken to hospital for severe burns to the face. A load of children's art has been lost, along with countless Bibles, prayer cushions, and vaults of cash.
“****.”
I read through the article. The whole place was gutted. Nothing could be salvaged. Nothing could be redeemed. In the corner of the picture, through the red, green, and blue dots, I could just make out some bedsheets over the benches in the church yard. For the homeless.
I apologise profusely for posting up a short story instead of a poem. I wrote this in one go tonight and haven't proofread it. I had no plan, I just wrote until there was -something- there. I just wanted to try something different.

C
Melodie McInnis May 2012
"It is better we should both perish than that my enemy should live"

the scorpion; lethal
the frog; delicate

1st times a accident
2nd times a mistake
3rd time shoud've never happened.

but you were right it was inevitable for it to happen again.
With your kindness so dear and delicate,
your genuineness so rare
and your heart so pure
and my nature so continuous,
it wasn't a mistake or an accident,
you cannot break the cycle of nature,
just like the changing  seasons.

it's like harming someone you care about,
and harming one at one's disadvantage,
with recklessness .

they aren't worth loving, or being affectionate towards,
pure as the moon on darkening nights
radiant as the stars and growing, growing
bright as sunshine, gold, gleeful
warm warm warm
crisp and fresh as a spring breeze
full of life, deep roots gaining strength
gentle, gentle
buoyant as a bird's wing, joyous
freedom freedom freedom

/

Messy as an unkempt room
scattered and complicated
desolate as the drying desert
burning burning burning
lost and mewling, blind as a cub
clumsy and careless
volatile as active volcanoes
destruction destruction destruction
cold as rain and tough as hail
harming, harming

Beyond the sun there is
*violence, violence
I want to be so bright
that people want to orbit around me
but i am a supernova
consuming all who stray too close
T Apr 2014
The scars will not go away.
They will itch.
Your scars will feel like someone is grinding glass in them.
The numb parts will stay numb.
They hurt to touch.
Shaving will never be the same.
Your fingers won't work properly.
The ones you didn’t take care of get worse. Skin sags.
The scars will not go away.
Deep cuts leak.
First-aid supplies are really expensive.
The scars will not go away.
Kids will ask what happened.
People will stare.
Employers will ask if you’re mentally stable enough to hold a job.
They will get sunburnt, and stand out more.
They define every outfit you choose to wear for the rest of your life.
They are the reason *** with the lights off is the only *** you’ll ever have.
The scars will not go away.
You never get used to seeing them,
But you never forget they are there.
People touch you and you flinch. Don’t touch me there, there, there or there.
You will feel disgusting, disgusting, disgusting for the rest of your life.
The scars do not go away.
They do not go away.
They will not go away.
i've destroyed my body don't do the same thing.
Heather Moon Feb 2014
Dad
So my father,
he goes into the store to buy his $10 a pack for cancer
while he still attempts to hide his addictions from my sister and I.
Now I don't think it would bother me oh so much
but his frugal attempts to sweep the dust under the rug is like using a mop instead of a broom...
We see the crumbs leading to your door from the cookie jar.
Yes, we all have flaws, but you,
you
weave shamefully through the under layers of darkness, devoid of any resemblance to a heavenly nature, you fall like a night creature weaseling through crooked creaky cement alleyways, your gremlin spirit set ablaze.

LIFE, I revel and roll within the taste of each second, I run the grain of life across my tongue until saliva fills the creases and far reached corners of my mouth. I tap my finger to my lips like a true virtuoso, a connoisseur of life. Life.

My father's addictions completely derail me,
not even so the notion itself, I mean yes, but his blatantly obvious ways of avoiding confrontation not only from us, but also from himself.
Like Pinocchio's nose, my fathers back gets hunched more and more, his breath quickens when we draw close.
Father you are not prey, in fact if there be a predator, it is you unto yourself. I can no longer help but to roll my eyes when you tell me for the fourth time in the day that you must take out the trash so as to have a smoke.
I am fed up, excuse me sir, the trash will still be there no matter how many times you take out the "trash" .
The only "thing" that won't be left after you're repeated offenses of the benign chore will be you're dignity because you are so naive and ignorant in the way you dodge truth. How can you live respectfully when you don't respect yourself? Nor do you value what you are spitting out to your own daughters.
I am addicted to life,
I breathe it in with passion,
I embrace the truth within me
and have an eagerness to expand my wisdom.
How come father you do something that you know is a betrayal to yourself? How come you hide away in that old bar, the one with the flashing(flickering) light on the outside, dingy worn out red leather(plastic)booths on the inside, the bar located in some musty  little hole in you're brain and a blind spot on you're heart.
You sit in the back in a lonesome booth slumped like some chump, stuck in a stump, you ooze and wheeze not even grasping for air, no fight left within, you are like mucus, a toad melting into the ground. Sinister and swindling in the greed of you're gut. Your ***** mopey yellow eyes and the shameful acceptance as you indulge in the baths of life's luxuries whilst you poison your body, trash what you hold dear and continue to block out that little annoying voice.
The voice with the cracks in it,
worn out from you're games, the voice that nags and pleads. The one that catches you before you order another round, take another smoke break, the one that pulls you, tantalizes you with it's simple sweet natural charm in hopes of distracting you from your self harming ways.
The voice that chimes in the second you raise your fist to punch me. The voice that is screaming at you when you lock eyes with mine and can see my fear.
Yeah that voice, the little punk one that returns even after the crime of your actions has been committed.
After the music stops and it's just you and the world.
but even then
I don't think you will hear it.
You're living on the edge of the pavement father.
No you wont hear that voice, not when you're twisted and contorted into the sideways way of things. You killed that voice long ago, when you wound yourself deeper and deeper like a clock in time,
when you twirled yourself into that little empty pub, with a quiet pool table, with no hope, a sanctum of greed.
Yes, you're guilty, yes it was you.
It was you who killed the voice inside of yourself.
You killed it when you traded
your dignity and your truth
for yet another
$10 dollar pack of
emptiness,
lies,
and forfiet.
NitaAnn Aug 2013
My heart is an ***** that pumps blood through my veins…it is NOT a room for my "inner child" to live in. And no, I cannot see, or hear "Little Nita" talking or sitting beside me, and no – I will not comfort her or let her sit on my lap. I will not do those things because she is not here. "Little Nita" does not exist – I cannot see her, or hear her – she used to exist, but she grew up and became ME, "BIG Nita", "Adult Nita" – and honestly, I like the "Adult Nita" much better….big improvement. And "Little Nita" doesn't live in my heart.

If someone asks ME, "Adult Nita", I have no problem telling you about how unfair life can be sometimes. People do bad things –and I accept that. I guess my life will be filled with a perpetual struggle to find my voice. In essence, it all comes down to that. And perhaps rather than face the struggle in defensive move, always poised, on guard, ready to fight, I should embrace that ideology as one of comfort, something to look forward to. Maybe the difference between living and a life is found, not in the degree to which one succeeds in finding her voice and making it heard, but in having a voice to find in the first place. Without that constant, continual fight – you are silenced, and a spirit silenced begins to die (I know this to be true). And once this happens, one becomes empty, numb- a shadow or a shell of one's former self, with nothing constant to hold on to. My cutting – that was my "constant", my "comrade" – when everyone else walked away – I knew that I could depend on this. But perhaps I've been wrong about this too. It's not the cutting that's been the constant, but rather, my struggle to be heard. That struggle has never gone away. When everything else is stripped away, what is real will still remain. When you take away my cutting, my restricting, my past….the one thing that remains is ME, Nita, still trying to make my voice heard in a world that has never listened, never cared. And rather than fight for it, my voice, rather than embrace that struggle as one that lets me know I'm still alive, I have spent all this time fighting against it, keeping it quiet, never saying what I needed to say. Never expressing my feelings, or allowing myself to just "BE". Here – now – right in this moment. Instead, I spent my time acting out, or looking back, trying to make sense of things, or looking forward trying to get everything figured out. And I've missed the little things – the seemingly unimportant things. The "everyday stuff" that makes life what it is. Without it, life would be nothing more than a series of empty moment. And that emptiness would in turn, only fuel the hunger, the drive, the need to find one's voice…a never-ending circle. How do you find your voice and "BE" heard. A search for meaning hidden inside photographs, poems, turning thoughts into "written words"…. Searching for meaning….It's a universal struggle, regardless of the art form, I suppose….

No one cared about the 4 year old brought to the hospital with recurrent bladder infections and vaginal tears. That wasn't their job, their job was to "fix" the symptoms, not understand why they were there in the first place. When my father went to prison for what he had done and I was placed in therapy where I was required to "participate" – all I ever heard was, "you're very angry" – but no one took the time to "ask" why I was angry – because no one wanted to get involved. No one wanted to take the time. Why do you think that is? Why is that?

And all the latest "DBT" mantra, ranting, training, teaching, talking….all treatment focused on making me stop self-harming. I want to feel less depressed, I want to feel less anxious and less distressed, I want the memories and the nightmares and the compulsive thoughts to stop. And until they stop – I have no desire to stop cutting – because cutting makes them stop (at least for awhile). And it seems to ME as though no one wanted to deal with the depression and why I was depressed and self-harming…the focus seemed to ME, to be much like Pavlov's approach when he trained the dogs……it seemed to ME that you thought, "if I say MINDFULNESS, or DBT, or MEANING-MAKING, she will make the connection that she must stop cutting." Or perhaps the experiment of the rat who received a shock each time he displayed an unacceptable "behavior" – eventually, the rat will no longer do it. There was no longer an interest, or a care, about ME, but only interest and care in stopping the unacceptable behavior….so that the patient can go back to work, and function as a normal human being, in society. I no longer existed- and that confused ME – because I cut myself – I bleed – I see the blood – I must exist.

But you insisted that DBT was the answer! You no longer saw ME, you saw only the behavior, the behavior that needed to stop. Suddenly I am lost in a sea of "symptoms". And I exist no more.
And yet, I do exist – because here I am. Not the "trauma patient" the "cutter" the "ED" the "CSA Victim"~ not "the stubborn child" "the willful child" "the angry child" – but ME. The ME that somehow got lost in this process – ME – the intelligent, successful, caring woman who succeeded in spite of her childhood. The woman with a heart of gold, the woman whose smile could light up a room.. ME! ME! Nita – my favorite color is green, my favorite flower is a violet – my favorite food is tacos– I love the smell of clean laundry and rain when it just starts falling, I love the feel of a newborn baby’s head. I love to watch the sun set. I love to drink coffee out of the cup my daughters gave me 5 years ago that says, "Happy Mother's Day”. I love to make my husband dance to Air Supply even though he pretends he doesn't like it.

ME…Nita ~ I’ve known you for 3 years, but I don’t think we’ve ‘met’.
Chloe London Jul 2013
Whether its because of your body,
your weight,
your "friends",
the way you dress,
your sexuality,
your family ,
or your surroundings...
You've asked to read this poem for a reason and that one reason is suicidal thoughts.
Well let me ask and tell you a few things before you lift up that blade, before you go searching through the strongest pills you can find, and before you tie a knot in that rope.
Don't.
You have so much to live for!
Think of at least one special person in your mind.
Got one?
Okay.
They mean a lot to you, right? 
Imagine how they would feel.
Imagine if one day they thought
"hey why don't I check up on him/her?"
Then walked into your house and seen you lying there, pulseless with a note laid next to you.
Maybe that would make them do the same, maybe it would make them follow in your footsteps and go straight after you, just so they don't have to go through the misery of knowing they will never see you again for as long as they live. 
Maybe they won't take there lives,
but maybe they could be close.
Maybe they could start off self harming,
then stop eating and then start to have sleepless nights,
and if they did sleep,
they'd cry for hours beforehand,
draining themselves out in order to sleep. 
What would your parents think?
What if they weren't the reason you did it and they thought they were the main cause. 
What if they couldn't take it and they split up and messed up the whole family?
What if your friends and family were still alive but their lives were filled with nothing but despair and each and every one of them felt like their souls were ripped from them the moment you left, like they weren't really alive at all?
That would make you sad, right?
Well what if you had a boyfriend/girlfriend?
Maybe for some people they're the only person there for you through this rough patch,
am I right?
Well how do you think they would feel?
After fighting with you through all of these deep and dark days and then all of a sudden you gave up without warning. Not only giving up on yourself but on them too. Maybe they don't feel exactly what you feel, or have the same depressing thoughts as you, but it's sure as hell just as soul destroying i'm sure.

Look at your body.
You think it's disgusting don't you?
Well it's not.
I'm positive that it's not.
Because male or female,
you're all beautiful in your own way.
I'm pretty sure I know at least one person who would **** to have your body and would be more than happy to show it to the world :)

See those scars?
Of course you do.
You look at them every day and it makes you want to cut more and more every time you look.
But you don't need to feel that way.
All those scars mean is that you're a tiger who has earned their stripes,
it shows that's you're strong and even though you may have wanted to burst that vein yesterday, you're still here
And those scars you made yesterday are an applause. An applause from us all that you never made it up there and you're still with us.
You may not be happy,
but that will change.

No this isn't in a style of a poem,
it's more of a cry for help.
Little do you know that reading all of your posts and for some people,
reading your thoughts and looking through pictures you've sent me hurts me so bad.
And I'm begging for it all to stop for you all.
I'm not going to say "I'm begging for you to stop", because I know how hard that is for you and you can't just you know...
Stop.
I know that.
So I'm going to help you.
For whoever feels like they're alone in this you're wrong,
that's all going to stop here.
I may only seem like some girl that just wants to help.
And maybe I am to a lot of you,
but some of you know that not only do I WANT to help,
but I CAN help.
Believe it or not, to some people I have made a difference in their lives and the things I have said to them have made an impact on them.
No matter how big or small...
I'm here for you.
You don't have to feel scared or alone anymore.

This is one of the many poems I will be writing,
this one,
as you will know,
covers body issues, scars and the affects on others due to suicide. 
Before you take your life,
Just stop,
Just think,
If this really worth it?
Am I going to let this monster take over me and win?

.......


That was a trick question, of course you're not. You're not giving in that easily.
You're worth so much more than that.
To at least someone,
you mean everything.
Don't let go, it's too soon. 
Listen here,
Im not judging you.
Im not judging on your past or present and i'm not planning on judging you in your future either (yes, you will have a future)
Just remember,
I care.
There is a light at the end of every tunnel and i'm willing to help each and every one of you find it.
I love you all, never forget.
If anyone seeks help and wants to talk, message me privately and we can talk on there or I will give you my "Kik" name.
Kaye B Anderson Aug 2014
Did you know that there is a world out there,
full of evil, jealousy and sin?

Were you aware that you may be sitting there,
innocently, not harming a soul in the world,
and someone, somewhere, will be wishing the worst for you.

Making spells, sending evil, cursing your very soul,
The person you may think is your closest friend,
Could be your biggest threat.
Wishing the worst for you -
hoping you were dead.

What ever happen to respect and be respected,
Love and be loved in return.
I was once a big believer in these things,
and then I was burnt.

Friendships lost, hearts broken - trust lost.
Now I walk a lonely road,
Trusting no-one,
Understanding nothing.

Not everything is what is seems.
Deadwood Jawn Jan 2019
You couldn't
Be
          T R U S T E D .
                                        Be
                    ­  You couldn't

Pain...
Anger...
Sweet crimson on my pages.
               Dead.
Dead, my rose.
My precious flower..
            How I mourn for you.
  
I wanna get ******.
Won't you  *******  me?         I'm tired.
Another state tonight.. AnOTheR SPlit. Maybe..
celey Jul 2015
even the mere idea
suggestion
of self harming bothers me
yes, it is selfish
ungrateful
ignorant
but also very sad
i cannot come to terms with the fact that people hurt other people
so much they resort to hurting themselves
as long as God exists, you are not alone
how could you hurt Him like that?
dennis gunsteen Dec 2010
poor soul of this world.

''to the men of this world'''
10,000 scorpions
bring to abyss hell ,
if you harm a women.
said the prophet.
as then  lord said to the  world
it end here  right now!!
never miss treat god seed bearer
in life


no have the right to control
women.
as his slave in life.
to gain money for sale of a women.
no have right hurt or harm women
no have right to **** a women
no have right to **** anyone in this world.
any man harming a women.
will goto abyss of hell.
for harming a women in any way.


these  are  god  laws

so never miss treat a women
in very bad way.
said the lord to prophet.

if any man should harm a women,
very badly.

10,000 scorpions  will harm you in your  sleep

that god  law
now!!
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
em...
  what's the difference between
refugees, economic migrants...
and ex-pats?
   not much...

    esp.with regards the latter...
who are ex-pats?
immigrants,
from a de- host nation...

English women sipping tea
with Mussolini...
  ex-pats:
  
   out of, what? patriotism?
maybe my latin prefixing is
a bit rusty...

                     ginger amy adams...
by god....
  if a rose... that...
that is a rose...
   strawberry blonde...
mmm mmm...
kentucky fried chicken...
          
         f'now i wish for an ***
i can ***** all day long in
Manhattan...
  and be like:
yummy and **** me three ways
sinister...
   because? why not?!

     ginger ninja...
             nunchucks up the ***
to replace the ****** or
the cucumbers...
                  bridegroom of
Bruce ******* Lee...
               makes up for a degenerate
market...
  

slurp an oyster...
bargain on clam economy...
  
  point being?
          self-harming of girls
replaces
   the tattoo industry...
of girls...
         and the world continues
its carousel "enterprise"...

       then the world dies...
   and then the world revives itself...

            self-harming text books...
and then comes along...
tattoo -
                         the spiral,
deficit woman -
    her due, her, own,
her: albatross swoon -
dive into the curtailed unknown -

     a woman hindered -
a woman governed by the hinterland -
a scrap of,
what became the scoop of
what later became -
the crown of Poseidon's
scavenger
                          ushering in...
the last, of what remained:
a peeled onion.

                       St. Basil -

                  came the crow,
came the cathedral,
   came the gauged out eyes..
came the croak...
         came...
the span of wings...
came...
               the labors -
        a mind, a lost digestion...
came...
             a vision of a future...
without the fiction
of an immovable past.
circus clown Jan 2015
don't talk to me about addiction
when you can still brush your teeth sober
act like you're too troubled to be a friend to me
when you're getting high, you just dont care

when you call, i get that feeling
like i just finished sobbing
choked up and dried out and exhausted
i get drunk and want to talk to you anyways

this is not about me being angry
this is not about how i used to see us
naked at the west end of humanity
the last two living souls, me and you,
naked in the wreckage of the world,
the opposite adam and eve

i should've understood sooner
that there's nothing romantic
about being the villian, no matter
how very much in love you are

this is about me, asking you to let me tell you
about the times i almost jumped off mountains
and then let me tell you why i didn't

there's more to being human
than embracing the mistakes you make
building a home out of apologies and
"i've been ****** up"s and
"you don't deserve this" -
when they tell you that it's okay
because you're only human,
they're reminding you to embrace
not only the bad, but the good too
you can't always laugh and despite the fact
that nothing truly funny ever happens in life
maybe even in spite of that,
laugh as often as you can
leena Dec 2014
cant go a day without self harming,
please tell me why do i find it so charming ?
although blood gives me an alarming
that i might not be there next morning
Jesica Nov 2015
Our earth is turning from green to gray,
Just because it can't say,
"Stop vulgarly harming me
Or you will soon see
Barren wastelands and dried seas."
Nature's beauty is fast eroding,
'Cause we are still enjoying.
Wise humans, don't you see,
We'll soon be left without a tree.
Be a little eco-friendly,
And treat nature more gently.
Plant a tree every month and soon you will be falling in love with nature. Global warming levels are skyrocketing and we are the only ones who will be able to save the little of what is left.
Crushed Fairy Sep 2015
She harms her insides
Does it show on the outside?
No, only a few people know how bad the harming got.
She yearns for more poison
Her eyes get a little wider
FEEL SOMETHING FEEL SOMETHING
Love love love! how do i get that feeling You cannot so she searches for more poison. Her eyes once got too wide and she was scared for her life! No more no more! But its never enough. I AM NOT WIERD BECAUSE YOU DONT UNDERSTAND ME. Snort some more babe feel hard feel whole again its the only way on the coast driving along and all i feel is free. someone turns and says they are getting a little concerned for her then someone quickly changes the subject. She is fine! She poisons herself for fun! her eyes continue to bulge? Is she Alive? Is she Alive? She needs an Alieve.
Step one:
Admit that you have a problem.

Hi, I'm so and so,
and I am anorexic.
Wait, am I supposed
to state one problem
or all of them?

Let me start over.

Hi, I'm so and so,
and I am anorexic.
I am a self harming,
drug abusing, attention
seeking, anorexic with
a penchant for seeking
out love in all the wrong places.
I'm an occasional smoker,
a complete *****,
and a highly trained klepto.

I'm also a procrastinator,
does that count?

I'm self-consumed, suicidal,
and sometimes I let water boil over on the stove without cleaning up the mess.
I blame things on other people as often as possible, and never tell the
cashier when they've given me too much change back.

I know that's not all,
but it's awfully hard to remember everything
that's wrong with me right now.

Oh yeah, I'm forgetful. And terrible under pressure.
And at public speaking. I lie...a lot, and actually,
I made some of these problems up.

So I came here to get help.
By the way, when exactly does that start?
Don't ask... No clue where this came from. Just, yeah.
Georgia Grace Jan 2016
Why do you fiercely stare ?
Why  do you mock me so?
why is the mirror there?
Picking out every minor detail.
My effort isn't amounting to much
but leave me be please.
These critics are harming my progress,
Because I'm only as good as I let myself be.
So why is the enemy Me!?
Auroleus Aug 2012
Jesus Christ, 15 AD

Today was a good day. I sneaked away to the cave and lit a bush on fire so I could communicate with my father. I’m not sure why I even bother telling Him things because He already knows them… I guess I just like hearing his voice. Today I asked Him if it would be alright for me to start practicing my miracles… AND HE SAID YES!!! XD He says I need a lot of practice before I go taking it public because nobody would believe I’m the son of God if I ******* one up. Also, I’m pretty sure he wants to preserve his reputation… so I started practicing on sheep. It’s a good thing shepherds are already so far away from towns because if people witnessed what I was doing to these sheep PETA would be at my doorstep in a matter of days. For those of you who don’t know, PETA is an organization created by Satan for animals because he thinks it hilarious that they should have a place in heaven, too. HA HA SATAN, very funny…

So my first miracles were simple. I was to heal all of the injured sheep in my flock. This went over fairly well, until I came to the blind sheep. I tried healing her and her eyeballs melted right out her skull! REVERSE MIRACLE! REVERSE MIRACLE! I shouted as I waved my staff in a panic. Then in the background a bush lit ablaze, “Son, you know waving that staff around won’t cause anything to happen. Magic wands and staffs are pagan nonsense. Since your birth I’ve disabled all of their so-called magical instruments, so now they’re nothing but a bunch of ritualistic heathens.” Anyway, Father fixed the poor sheep’s eyes and I was scolded for harming the animal. He sometimes makes me flog myself…

Lunch: Stale bread and glass of water.

After lunch is training time. My father had me build a crucifix inside a cave hidden deep in the desert hills so that I can practice for the big day! I spend 2 hours a day roped to that cross, and another hour or so doing self-mutilation. More flogging. I keep asking Father if he’ll send me down a practice angel so that I don’t have to keep beating myself, but he said all the angels who were into that sort of thing migrated south… So here I am… alone… in a cave… fists full of blood and rope burned wrists. Heading home to watch my parents argue and maybe I’ll turn their water into laudanum so that I may have a decent night’s sleep.
might not be a poem... **** it.
Becky Littmann Nov 2014
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Or at least that's what is said
But what if your vision is unclear
& your own image is not beauty in your eye
& your self-esteem declines as you get older
You're still ugly in your head
No matter what compliments you hear
& you don't know how to explain your reasons why

Society is to blame
Overly  advertising "skinny" pills or another new diet fad
magazine covers displaying frail & gauntly figures sharing their dieting habit
& there's an unofficial showdown on social media trying to one up your peers
It's become so stupid & lame
People going completely mad
Nothing is being achieved is what I don't get
Unfortunately this will continue on for years

Enhancing your appearance is become quite extreme
Botox filled needles, toxic injections say good-bye wrinkles as well as ****** expression
Button nose or a pointed one, maybe a bump rhinoplasty will quickly fix
Broken, distorted & barely holding on, slowly losing self-esteem
Whatever it takes, anything they can do to receive some positive attention
Showered with empty compliments, their beauty is deceiving & they're covered in lies
**** pumped full of silicone, hard to the touch
Some implanted *** cheeks, now it's massive & anacondas all want to bite
Reality is becoming surreal, dream like hard to decipher the real & fake
A crazed addiction that's just too much
A corrupting epidemic destroying what's right
We need to figure out how to protect the years to come with prevention
Killing this trending fascination of a stupid mistake

We continue to change it, hide it, deny it, maintain it, lie to it, cry at it & accuse it
Everyone has got one, no one is exempt
Year after year it's a bigger obsession
Criticizing & judging what they view is their daily routine
With no plans to quit
Changing their thoughts & mind is something dangerously risky to attempt
Unable to change what they view on their screen
Drifting farther out of any reality
Claiming they're unaware how negativity can quickly poison
In denial that it does any harming
Oblivious to the unraveling image
No longer obtaining any slight speck of your originality
& got caught up in the deadly alluring fascination
For results that were nonexistent
Ridiculously absurd & quite alarming
Side effects include blurred vision, forever tainted thoughts & more unfixable damage

Lost souls, a pointless quest to change what was never wrong
Leaving all those confused & badly broken & a mind almost rotten
A spirit was just no longer there
Emotions shut off & an expressionless face remains
Failing to reach society's idea of "perfection"
Another one gone, that didn't take very long
The light in people's eyes faded & their smiles joined the forgotten
Beyond the looking glass we lost our stare
& our spirit it claims
Nothing is left now but an invisible reflection
st64 Apr 2014
Heaven and Hell: The Parable of the Long Spoons
Post written by Sofo


What is heaven? What is hell? The parable of the Long Spoons explains very well what heaven and hell truly are.
One day a man said to God, “God, I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like.”


God showed the man two doors. Inside the first one, in the middle of the room, was a large round table with a large *** of stew. It smelled delicious and made the man’s mouth water, but the people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with very long handles and each found it possible to reach into the *** of stew and take a spoonful, but because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths.
The man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering. God said, “You have seen Hell.”
Behind the second door, the room appeared exactly the same. There was the large round table with the large *** of wonderful stew that made the man’s mouth water. The people had the same long-handled spoons, but they were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking.
The man said, “I don’t understand.”

God smiled. It is simple, he said. Love only requires one skill.
These people learned early on to share and feed one another. While the greedy only think of themselves… [Author unknown]

Sometimes, thinking of our personal gratification, we tend to forget our interdependence with everyone and everything around us. Not to help our fellow human beings simply means harming our very selves, since we are all connected on a very deep level.
If you want others to be happy, practise compassion. If you want to be happy, practise compassion.
~Dalai Lama




               *by Sofo
sub-entry: no slime

if Dolores had to hang those sheets upon a sunny breeze
far on below, tracing treacherous steps to a lawn so green
your soles could find no slime deep enough to match

that patch of green where I'd sit
with my pipe blowing out clouds serene
for the sky to make friends with
and face that roar of waves
on the ocean my soul has dipped into
so many times..

st64, 28 April 2014
Ace Malarky Feb 2013
His teeth are crooked, bent and brown
   he grins with mirth, eyes pointing down
   his hollow head contains a thought
   friendly, yes but pleasant, not.

His whims, in fact, are quite alarming
   for what's on his mind is harming.

He wants to steal and take what's mine!

Alas! Why must Death be charming?
The death rate in America is still the same as every other country. One per person.

--Ace
Belle Victoria May 2016
I was living for the nights where I didn't cry myself to sleep
the days were my stomach wasn't filled with medication I didn't need

it was like you all stopped caring about me when my eyes went dark
you were afraid of me and I could understand why, I was afraid too

making fun of yourself in a non self harming way is one thing I couldn't
self harming in a way it was fun for the both of us, is what I always could

mama told you it was because of the friends you made outside
the truth is I don't have a clue about what she is talking, friends?

so there once was a girl and everyone thought she was special
a rare kind of special, you could look at her and forget all your misery

your daddy never loved you and thats why you are so ****** up
your family abandoned you and now you are here all alone, again

but don't you worry pretty thing, nobody will cry for you this time

always talking about trying to fix us, always talking, never actions

the people in her home town told her she was going to hell
and she always smiled because maybe hell is where she belonged

sick of hiding and always trying to fit into this messed up broken world
maybe this little thing was enough for her to go away for good..

because at this tiny magical moment where you stopped caring about me
so did I.
I dont write when I feel happy, expect a lot of writings from now on.
Andrew Rueter Dec 2017
They are the ones
That rule the world for fun
They disseminate the guns
And tell us to run
So we flee
From their disease
That will not cease

Power is control that money buys
Burying us in gold and petty lies
They tell us the well has run dry
While we watch them fly

Fences of barbed wire
For us to admire
Inferno funeral pyres
Burn our desires

When they rattle
We're the cattle
That goes to battle

They talk to us with false information
And real bullets
They say it is our fault for instigation
The trigger they pull it
When their saccharine voice
Offers a laughable choice
Forsake love and compassion
To adopt their fashion
Of society crashing
They used to use lashings
Now they use time
Punishing those who aren't complicit in their crimes
They put us in prison
If we don't agree with their decisions
Decimating Bedouin life
So they can profit from strife

People ask who "they" are
The easiest answer is not me
And the problems aren't too far
For anybody to see
That there is a "they"
Not intent on doomsday
But numb to the death of strangers
Which puts us all in danger
I could point to examples like Lockheed Martin and Shell
As two companies that put us in hell
Or a country like North Korea
That has violent ideas
Or a man like Donald Trump
Who is a parasitic lump

They convince us they don't exist
So we don't resist
While they insist
We enlist
In their army
Of harming
Starring
Them
We hem
And haw
While they write laws
That point out our flaws
That are minimal compared to theirs
Yet they are the fortunate heirs
Who decide the code of conduct
Which is whatever sells their product
From plastic to bombs
Killing dolphins and moms
They feel they can't be wrong
When might
Is right
The meek take flight
But there is poison in the air
And they don't even care
They **** the Earth
And ****** its inhabitants
What are we worth
When it's to the rich we gravitate?

There is an apostle
Who's turned into a fossil
That is converted into fuel
So they can keep their pull
And use us as tools
To unearth jewels
And hoard them
Because we can't afford them
We surrender our resources to a select few
To do what they choose
Until we all lose
And can't see the light of day
Who else to blame but "they"?
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
https://www.amazon.com/Icy-Andrew-Rueter-ebook/dp/B07VDLZT9Y/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Icy+Andrew+Rueter&qid=1572980151&sr=8-1
gothic mistress Sep 2010
like nausea comes in waves,



melancholy,misery enters,



it robs and depraves,



the mind,the soul,



destroying your being,



its ultimate goal.



dark demons writhe and chase,

hair pulling,self harming,



scratching at your face,



darkest deepest black,



dragging you back,



to a time you wish was alien.



ebony looms,



at the light within,



snuffing life out,



he shadows you,



the reaper,



with his deathly grin.



madness,delusions,



insanity,instability,



pandemoni­um,lunacy,



all real in the mind,



not deadly illusions.
copyright gothic mistress 2010

— The End —