Pain is a dangerous thing to be felt.

Hurt is a dangerous thing to be.

I hate being this way.
Bleeding over and over and over
For someone else's wound.
Someone else's pain.
An empathetic heart,
Feeling the hurt of those around me
Unwillingly
Unwarranted.

Internalizing
My pain
And yours.

And I'm stuck
Trying to sort out
Whose pain is whose
And what pain is mine.
And I'm shaking and cold
Because I can feel something
And it isn't mine
But the colors from it are much too familiar.

My mother always said
My empathy makes me a good person,
But I hate it.
I hurt too much.
My hear bleeds too much.
I cry too much,
Because it gets overwhelming.

Have you ever met a person who loves and feels too much?
I haven't, but I am one.
It's dangerous and annoying.
We get attached. We get angry at those who hurt you.
We become relentless in our quests to set things right.

Sometimes I feel like
My heart is going to bleed out,
And everything is
Red and violet and black.

Pain is a dangerous thing to be felt.

Hurt is a dangerous thing to be.

Wind me up
Bring me down
Feel like I'm spinning
Round and round

Stress is bunching
In my shoulders
Headache mounting
Like I'm crushed by a boulder

Aches and pains
My body's unhappy
Internalizing stress
Feeling ******

Days stand still as I slip into a tranquil state of mind. Time to deposit maybe even ***** this word I have compiled. Is it vile? Will it matter when the translucent wall shatter? After all it is only a word. A word long misplaced hidden away for a rainy day, maybe today…but you know some say a picture is worth a thousand words so maybe I can paint it instead of say it so you can see it in all its light… as it illuminates, intoxicates, incorporates everything you live for, breath for, word towards…love. As it permeates every inch of our being every molecule every atom internalizing the external force given to us  by source to allow in something greater than us something more powerful than we are, after all it is just a word…love

I wake up early sometimes
I sit in my small apartment shower
It’s almost meditation
I let the water hit me
Inside, with a glass door to my left and tile Installed in the 60’s to my right
I think about anything other than myself
Isolated from noise
Insulated from cold
I close my eyes for 15 minutes
Internalizing and trying to predict my day
It’s all about me
I realize.

I find myself desensitized
To every “it be like that sometimes” gesture
And passive-aggressive notion
That I’ve now chosen to reject
Instead of internalizing

I want nothing from you,
Because I expect nothing of  you

I just sit still, in my distant bubble

Patiently waiting for the day
That you have the ability  
To disappoint me again

i sought refuge in the back of a rundown playground. orange and purple monkey bars turning the insides of fingers soft red, and faces a delicate blue from hanging upside down for too long. 2017 was the year everything changed. following a confession down a busy street on dashain, you made me promise not to say anything. i learned then to keep secrets and guard them with shame; knowing that the day would come, when you’d blindside and lie. “it’s her fault,” you told my sister, as you carried all your **** out the door. my mother at the top of the staircase, overhearing your utterance–– it’s typical of you to place blame everywhere else besides yourself. you instilled a lie that would create 3 years worth of resentment, anger, and pointed fingers. the truth was you didn’t know how to talk, and while you told me you had done “all you could to make her happy, it just didn’t work out”–– there’s more that permeates below cryptic explanations. i learned how to villainize quickly, internalizing every detail you spewed out during friday night outings. when i walked beside you in silence, your body and voice strained with tension, “why don’t you ever say anything to me?”, maybe i have nothing to say. or maybe because deep down i knew that to speak truthfully to you would result in defensive explanations; “oh no you just don’t understand. you think you do, but you really don’t.” cool. i learned how to shut the **** up and disassociate. each time an email entered your mailbox, and the accusations began, so did you. dumping all your emotional baggage onto the table, my mozzarella sticks falling to the floor; and the pita bread and hummus shoved into my mouth to keep me from responding and providing comfort to you. i learned about repression, what it means to bite your tongue, and turn a blind eye. not because i wanted to, but to maintain the peace. what a load of *******. you condemned my tears; and it was then that i learned that pain and hurt are inconvenient. and when your amante came to stay for a month and a half, you opened arms and welcomed her tears willingly. i guess age warrants greater emotional respect and support. i learned quick that tender tongue does not run in your bloodline, so i looked elsewhere for verbal consultation.

in the back of a rundown playground is where you’d find me, across a pubescent girl with thick, black frames, soft eyes, and verbal delicacy. we exchanged stories spoken through runny noses and silent tears, dreading to take the 4pm bus home knowing what would await. the eight hour school day offered an array of distractions far from the shitshow that permeated our homes. we interlocked hands and vowed to be there for another; at the time you were enraged by a pain that gripped at your throat most days. i felt selfish to speak out, so i didn’t. instead i made room for you each weekend, anxiety in my stomach, bracing myself for whatever revelation or frustration you contained all week to ooze out over a glass of whiskey. and as i write this, years after these unfolding events, i wince, at your reaction, as you negate these observations and feelings of mine. i’m learning to claim entitlement over my pain, you nor anyone else can spell it out for me. and like all the rest, you will sit in discomfort and swallow each moment with me. you will feel what it feels to walk through the past five years, and feel every emotion that kept us interconnected and separated. for the first time, you will learn how to listen openly. i don’t write to antagonize, but to recount the years you missed of me; with the hopes you’ll understand me more than you did before.

i hope you make it through to the very end.

-c.alejandra

poet is a poignant being,
thrives with self internalizing.
with intellect can communicate,
expresses sentiments quite innate.

romance is a poet's gateway,
depicts gist to every inspired essay.
the lingering urge to inscribe obsession,
instinctively drive a poet blazing passion.

talent is a poet's skill,
enthuses his artistic will.
indulge in prolific compositions,
his candid sentimental imaginations.
inspired to create magical masterpieces,
of poetry that comfort the hearts with graces.

Yours truly an aging baby boomer
long haired pencil necked geek
trademark disheveled characteristics
whipsawed ever faster around sun.

He (best buddy and alter ego of mine)
snapped, popped, and crackled
firstly his crown out ******
subsequently skinny arms and legs
(I'll spare ye the ****** graphics),
whence obstetrician able, eager, and
ready underscored with italics

to pronounce hosannas  
regarding garden variety
generic wrinkled newborn
emerging out birth canal
asthma noggin heralded
scrawny newborn, now celebrating lxiii
plus deux orbits around nearest star,
which birth sported an ordinary

uneventful, nonetheless miraculous
biological secrete heave reproductive tricks
immediately screaming
without assistance courtesy
Gran Prix (now pronounced as ******)

also envision Dolby surround sound
nsync with spastic kicks
'o mine straggly mostly
gangly lovely bones mox nix.

Within some nondescript building
named The Christ Hospital
location Mount Auburn
Cincinnati, Ohio
(the buckeye state)
record number C57587
gingerly handled courtesy
Doctor James Mackay McCord
(ushering none other than me
into the wide webbed world)
bestowed upon ***** of Harriet Harris,
thy young mother of prolonged labor
as his bony *** easily
slipped out uterine crypt,

whereby with Vernix
caseosa, the waxy or cheese
he appeared made rather dipped
in tallow, thence unexpectedly whipped
minuscule fist ready to bump.

Once placenta and fetal membranes
(unnecessary as wing ding)
discharged out ******
after birth of offspring,
and thar weren't no more
major contractions in the offing
ma mommy lovingly did cling
to her bundle of joy and bring

maternal breast I ravenously
did suckle fortunately toothless
against her tender ***** trickling
(if mammary serves me correctly)
I presently recall no iota of inkling
what events transpired, nope
no recollection about me circumcising.

Moost likely I felt Jew bull lent
glad yours truly chose decent
mother and father, which opinion
subjected to radical change,
when as grown adult child
living nonsocial under

their roof forced to hire agent
provocateur to practice sparring,
when standoff event on horizon,
which eventually begat ultimatums
their red hot poker rage spent
belittling, cursing, damning...

quiet as Unitarian Church mouse content
internalizing later smoldering
anger I needed to vent
in retrospect diminutive little boy
tied to mama's apron strings
afflicted with mental

health issues inherent
of course hindsight gleaned
social, psychological, neurological...
healthy development got rent
asunder partly explaining
why I became indigent.

Internalizing anxiety can **** you, my dear
That's what they said
Over and over again
So much so the impact left a ripple
An echo throughout my entire headspace

So I'll have to throw it up
Reach between my ribs and take it out
There's a knot there
Or a stone, a tumor
Some tension I can't quite name
I can't tell where it came from

But I can
See, It's the feeling of fear
Fear of disappointing myself of others
So I work and I work and I work
But not well, no
I work from fear
I keep tension and it keeps me

I may have to disassemble myself to release it
But It's so painstaking
Like writing a message to
A colleague, a classmate, a friend, a lover
Does this sound brash, or cold, or needy, or...?
How can I speak to myself without creating further damage?

Note(s) to self:
Let it go, because once you do you will feel lighter.
Don't be afraid to enjoy life, don't take your demons too seriously.
Waiting for someone else to save you is
only wasting your potential,
And calm seas rarely make good sailors, anyway.
It's not your fault.
Just because you're imperfect doesn't mean you don't
Deserve to exist, or be loved.
People will misunderstand you and your intentions
Make peace with the fact that
It's inevitable, unless both of you are willing to change that later.

Flow like water, don't sink like the stones you carry.

Give yourself a chance.
Work on it.

A pale face in the moonlight
Eyes filled with dull starlight
A dreary trance in the moon's beam
Or so it would seem

Her long, silky brown hair
Flowing in the night breeze without a care
Bringing about scents of lavender fields
This yields
Memories of wonderful things
Which once gave her wings
Of which are now broken
Words unspoken

Still as a statue
Colors faded of their hue
Her eyes occasionally blink
Those soft cheeks no longer rosy and pink
The slow blink of those earthy eyes
Internalizing the agonizing cries

Said eyes are clouded
Poor mind crowded
Holding a burden only she could bear
How could this be fair?
Withholding her memories
Internal; singing broken melodies

Soft pale skin
Arms rather thin
Glowing softly with the moon's kiss
Things are amiss
Making her figure wraithlike
Some things look alike
If she were such, a beauty she'd be;

Not a blemish on her face
Some hairs out of place
But perfectly so
A simple flow
Skin as soft as silk
Her dress white as milk
Soft, elegant, flowing white
Almost bright
In the crisp nights breeze

Simple, is the dress,
Going to her ankles, not to stress
Over tripping on the smooth fabric
But still there's something wrong - almost sick
The sleeves just past her forearm
There is no cause for alarm

Then, a single tear begins to form
Against her cold cheeks it's almost warm
It rolls down her cheek
She did not once speak
It stopped at her chin
Before leaving her skin
Gently dropping to the ground
Making hardly a sound
As it crashed, splashing tiny beads
At her feet, which then leads
To a great deal more
Down they pour
Her face breaks emotion
As she crumbles to the ground
Not to be found

Seated, legs to the side
No longer can she hide
What she feels inside
Just going for the ride
With the rivers of tears
Letting go of her fears
From all those years
As it all appears
Finally coming forth after all this time
After such a long climb
This isn't a crime
Enough with the rhyme
It's a battle-cry
Showing how much she did try
How much she had to lie
How much she wanted to curl up and die
But not then, not now
She'll make it through somehow
She swore a vow
To be herself
Not to let that sit on a shelf
Sick and tired of being a delp
She will stand up for herself

Just as she always should
When she thought she never could
It's time to shine
That light of thine
That broadcasts your signal
Fire your words like bullets in a pistol.

- Jay M
March 5th, 2020

Red and white
spinning stripes

again your internalizing
when you should be externalizing

to say or express something
specific

the comb swirling in the icy blue
will I ever love again

I still remember telling my Dad
the night before my wedding

that I never thought I would
I love that Suavecito poster on the wall

a skull with a pompadour
maybe I could find the t-shirt on line

it could even make a great tattoo
but then

what would it look like ten years
from now

faded  probably
or smudged like ink

from a ball point
pen

Whit Howland © 2020

Hey, listen to your emotions:

Bitterness: shows you where you need to heal, when you are still holding judgements on others and yourself!
Resentment: shows you where you are living in the past and not allowing the present to be as it is!!
Discomfort: shows you that you need to pay attention right now to what’s happening, because you are being given the opportunity to change, to do something different than you typically do it!!
Anger: shows you what you are passionate about, where your boundaries are, and what you believe needs to change about the world!!
Disappointment: shows you that you tried for something, that you didn’t give in to apathy, that you will care!!
Guilt: shows you that you are still living life in other people’s expectations of what you should do!!
Shame: shows you that you are internalizing other people’s beliefs of how you should be(or who you are) and that you need to reconnect with yourself!!
Anxiety: shows you that you need to wake up right now, and that you need to be present, and that you are stuck in the past and living in the fear of the future!!
Sadness: shows you the depth of your feeling, and the depth of your care for others and this world!!

Poet is a poignant being
who thrives in self internalizing
with intellect that can communicate
expresses sentiments with an instinct

Romance is a poet's gateway
depicts a gist to every inspired essay
a lingering urge to inscribe an obsession
instinctively drives a poet's blazing passion

Talent is a poet's skill
enthuses his artistic will
indulge in prolific compositions
of his candid sentimental imaginations
that inspire to create magical masterpieces
of poetry that comfort the hearts with graces

They spin in circles freely without constraint.
Veracious or deluding in exuberance and despair?
Perchance a bit of both?
An ethereal reflective narrative.
Intangible substance.
Internalizing sensitivities.
Processing encounters.
Dramatic imaginings that breed creativity.
Fierce dejection feeds anxiety.
Exultant highs that reach the edge of space.
Traumatic rage to cauterize the soul.
A rollercoaster of words heard within.
Sensitivity.
And unregrettable struggle.
A prized element of this identity.

date of conception:?  ~ Late March – mid April 1958.
date of parturition: January xiii, mcmlix.
date of expiration:? January i, eminem,
where earth, wind, and fire doth usher
hootie and the blowfish
on a green day
and a three dog night
three doors down from foo fighters.

A gangly, horribly measly, and scraggly bundle
of lovely bones even as a lad
(way to skinny to appease wicked witch)
chee boo came out kicking and screaming
and he never stopped since
that's how I will get carried out.

Yours truly an aging married baby boomer
(orangutan missing link)
long haired pencil necked geek
(constantly clearing phlegm from his throat)
trademark disheveled characteristics
whipsawed ever faster around sun
quickly ratcheting and spiraling tornado like
nearly 30 kilometers per second,
or 67,000 miles per hour clip;
while sprawled atop earth,
he journeyed, jumpstarted, kickstarted,
launched countless planetary orbitz
quintessentially retracing trajectory
when Gaia linkedin courtesy gravity
maintaining invisible bond with Helios.

He (best nutty buddy
and alter ego of mine),
which birth sported an ordinary
uneventful, nevertheless miraculous
combination platter visited
*******, *******, secretion
nsync with erratic spastic seminal kicks
divine fertilization usually took place
in a fallopian youtube
playing mine unrehearsed debut appearance
after an ***** to the ******
wrought conception, which
begat biological reproductive process

fostered embryonic development
'o Boyce and Harriet straggly heir,
one male progeny mostly
gangly lovely bones mox nix
cellular division yes genesis
I rem:member being born
as an a door able beatle browed talking head
super tramping cheap tricks
immediately kickstarted and triggered
goo goo doll foo fighter enfant terrible
terrifically soulfully bellowing;
also envision Dolby surround sound
without assistance courtesy
Gran Prix (for poetic purpose
pronounceable *** pistols ******).

Upon due date when water broke
vaguely analogous to how rice krispies
snapped, popped, and crackled;
firstly his crown emerged out ******
ain't got pushed by no
heavy duty contractions out birth canal
no siree but propelled seven plus pounds
courtesy infantile flatulence
asthma noggin heralded
scrawny declaration, now celebrating lx
plus four ellipses around nearest star,
subsequently skinny arms and legs
(I'll spare ye the ****** graphics
with the afterbirth regarding
  
placenta and fetal membranes
discharged from the ******
after the birth of offspring),
whence obstetrician able, eager,
ready, and willing to secure newborn
in swaddling raiment
affirming  proud parents
their healthy baby boy
underscored with italics
readied to receive pronounced hosannas  
regarding garden variety
generic wrinkled likened
to an old manikin newborn.

Within some now nondescript building
then named The Christ Hospital
location Mount Auburn
Cincinnati, Ohio
(the Buckeye state)
record number C57587
gingerly handled courtesy
Doctor James Mackay McCord
(ushering none other than me
into the webbed wide world)

bestowed upon *****
of Harriet Harris (maternal parent),
after thy young mother
experienced brief labor
as his bonny head and bony derrière easily
slipped out uterine crypt,
whereby with Vernix
caseosa, the waxy or cheese substance,
he appeared er made
rather wicked, matted, and dipped
in tallow, thence unexpectedly whipped
minuscule fist ready to bump.

Once placenta and fetal membranes
(unnecessary as wing ding)
discharged out ******
after birth of offspring,
and thar weren't no more
major contractions in the offing
ma mommy lovingly did cling
to her bundle of joy and bring

maternal breast I ravenously
did suckle fortunately toothless
against her tender ***** trickling
(if mammary serves me correctly),
I presently recall no iota of inkling
what events transpired, nope
no recollection
about me being circumcised.

Traditionally a mohel is a rabbi,
cantor or another religious leader
who performs brit milah,
or bris, a circumcision ceremony,
on an 8-day-old.

Moost likely I felt Jew bull lent
glad yours truly chose decent
mother and father, which opinion
subjected to radical change,
when as grown adult child
living nonsocial under
their roof housing forced to hire agent
provocateur to practice sparring,
when standoff event on horizon,
which eventually begat ultimatums,
where mutual quiet riot revulsion
swallowed me into a black hole

their red hot poker rage spent
belittling, cursing, damning...
quiet as Unitarian Church mouse content
internalizing later smoldering
anger I needed to vent
in retrospect diminutive little boy
tied to mama's apron strings
afflicted with mental
health issues inherent
of course hindsight gleaned

social, psychological, neurological...
healthy development got rent
asunder partly explaining
why I became indigent
cuz absolute zero ambition
to hustle and convince
prospective employers to hire me
an astute candidate with
deaf fin knit muted confidence.

Back approximately half my life ago
dissociative disorder
if qualified to self diagnose
mein kampf psychological state...

I lacked emotions where others concerned.

That refrain replayed itself,
when wife picked up
(like a broken record),
where parents left off
before they entered
another dimension
(maybe the fifth)
of space and time
(hosted courtesy Rod Serling),
where yours truly (me)
repeated until blue in the face
don't hock my chinik
to the missus lest
a potential crime scene
draws The Mod Squad.

Though she ceased reiterating
magnum opus of colorful epithets
towards me, daunting effort
well nigh impossible to ignore
daily USDA over dosage
stinging derogatory, heavily re: tar did
psyche stunted, wrathful
verbal artillery fire remains with me
to this moment in tandem,
and keep lock step company with malicious
noxious obloquy pilloried,
quotidian rate sundering unsung
vitality within zealous
aspiring bookish chap.

Daily eruptions
from glowering Hercules
inundated, jack-knifed, linkedin
fin de sic cull nursing offal
personal quaking resentment stewing
toxic watershed unleashed veritable,
red hot wrath, undermining vivacity
within yawping seething, tormenting
uber vitality wreaking
yours truly x ***** she hating,
killing motives of papa querulously,
rabidly scathing, terrorizing

sole son, who for better
part of marriage underwent
lighter version of invectives
cutting me down to size,
asper zero self worth, though
calmer days prevailed between
 huzz-band and spouse, yet nonetheless
indelible imprimatur undeniably
etched overtop palimpsest
raw hide of self esteem.

Twas quite recently,
this heir indubitably coaxed sea legs,
more so regarding self acceptance
felt emboldened,
empowered, and emancipated
from invisible shackles
bounding (akin to Gulliver)
a dire straightened situation.

Thru auspices of divine help
(then Lower Merion counseling offices)
professional psychiatrists
psychologists quelled
retaliatory spiteful treatment
upon banshee hushed heads
(high school peers,
parents and fiendish ghoul-
lash humans) intently joyously kindled,
lamentable mean name calling
(though sticks and stones
ne’er hurled venality broke
lovely bones), the sheer redundancy
to remain passive
internalizing verbal cut throat,
villainous wicked yik yaks zapped
ambition to fight back,
and desire to live.

Characteristics against cross purposes
predated onset of bullies took delight
feigning Brutus Maccabeus
lashing at diminutive, harried,
and introverted Capricorn
incessantly lambasted, ostracized,
and repulsed from LivingSocial
hermetically sealing within bubble wrap,
could not thwart nor deflect
piercing poison tipped daggers
puncturing outermost covalent shell,
reminiscent pock marks from yesterday.

Though cessation of banal, devilish frothing
at mouth nastiness no longer prevails,
an inordinate number
of bumped ugly chronologically
bereft experiences, detached, estranged,
fostered knee-**** reactions
against socialization, brought
to light this moment
pregnant revelation no need
to discern what cauterized alienation.

Seeds of white lily
begot ordinary individual
(now middle aged male
lxv passages around black hole sun)
accepts schizoid personality disorder
born free and clear
within utero bolstered
by external forces
finds me aware essential core being
alive absent til death do me part.

I'm sorry
you feel broken.
I'm sorry
you feel bruised.

I encourage you
to forgive. But that
depends if you
are willing to
decipher your
darkened soul.

You see the world
as how it HAS
treated you.

Internalizing
such suffering; the
trauma consumes
your soul.


Are you willing
to forgive? Forgive
mother & father, who
coerced you into
a 4-year?

mother & father
who neglected to give
you the strength,
to overcome the scars
on your legs, arms?

mother & father
refused to see
that you wanted to voice
your future?

mother & father
struggled to understand
your input about college,
how you did not envision
a future in this life.

mother & father
sprung their divorce
on you, neglecting to
explain how will their decision
affect you, affect
your vision of the world?

mother & father
neglected to
coach you in this
strange, challenging
world.

mother & father
never disclosed that your
voice defines your sense of self.

mother & father
never granted
permission for you
to discover your
hopes,
dreams.

mother & father
embedded many thoughts, to
which has created
a non-believer out of
you.

mother & father
coerced you
to attend a birthday party,
which you
begged,
screamed,
cried,
refusing to go.


I am mesmerized
how your pain,
suffering, devours
your soul.

Leaving you hollow.
Leaving you narrow-minded.

I understand the
most important human
is yourself.

I know you, deeply,
passionately
love me. With all your
heart.

But my questions
to you are:
Have you taken the time
to understand my thoughts?
My feelings? My neglect?
My love to you?

But I'm struggling to grasp
that you refuse me
to glance into the
raw, blackness of your
soul.

I am not afraid,
fragile,
scared,
alarmed, as to
what you illustrate
to me.

I want you to
give me the chance
to understand;
not judge,
not criticize.  

Your pain,
Your suffering,
doesn't define you.

You, yourself
define how you
feel,
think,
see,
the world.

Trauma shouldn't defeat you.
Your resilience should,
empowering your soul.

Not your mother,
Not your father,
Not myself.

You define the power within
You.

I would like you to
believe in
yourself. But that
depends on what
you feel deep within.

I don't want
mother & father, the
coercion, neglect,
to allow you to feel
powerless. I wish you to
forgive your detrimental
past.

Because I know,
I believe,
You have the will,
might, strength,
resilience,
to change it. To what
You deserve.

Truly
deserve.


I love you.
With all my heart.
Always.

I’ve got an itch on my mind
Trying to scratch out all that ill intent,
Sickening words, and vomiting out my anger
Screaming in my head, bouncing echoes of a shallow mind

Though I’m always in deep thought,
Over internalizing, self sizing with the daily voices
Conspiring, in these confines of a usually trapped thought

A hand of ****; guilty pleasure, and ***** ideas
And always wanting to touch it all,
Still as someone who hasn’t been touched at all,
More or less of what you call a touch of love
When a so called love, has molested your mind;
Wondering if the way you act is ideal, or just you replaying
your abuser’s ideas

As I bought myself a licence to keep my drive
Sometimes I feel my dreams lead me in the wrong direction
As pride is a weapon; whether you it point at people or yourself
There’s always a direction to point your shots,
Make your point and leave your mark in the world
Just be careful of your mind; not to deep dive into too many
thoughts, and try your best to keep straight with your drive.

How do you say you're screaming internally when no one else seems to see that you're drowning?

How do you keep trying, trying to do the right thing, to follow the rules, to keep life fair,
keep watching, watching as everyone that cheats and lies gets everything while you still have
Nothing

How do you keep giving away your heart, over and over, smiling at strangers, held together with bandaids over gaping wounds, holding onto coping mechanisms like internalizing everything

How can you say you're burning, burning from the inside, your chest is too tight and your brain is too wound, and you're not sleeping again and it definitely shows...

How can you keep going, going, Energizer bunny this **** because you have to, you have a mouth to feed that isn't yours and you can't give up

But how can you fight for your life when it keeps kicking you back down?

Stopped internalizing everything something's are best forgotten. Let because all they do is distract you from everything. Everyone works or does things differently. Not sure how to work with use to working around the problem. Taking the problem on straight up could cause conflict but usually focused on what needs to be done in a timely manner.
Usually one to rush things but not in a hurry she said yes but don't want to miss or ruin the opportunity. Been hurt before thinking long term instead of short. Asking questions not just going in blind. Trying to get to know a person not learn by trial and error on the go. In denial over all the deceit this person has displayed. Working hard working to make a difference

A sanctum of denial,
Concealing my faults--
A cushion of half-truths;
How many layers have
Amassed over the darkness
Underneath?
Countless years of internalizing,
Clasping the faults close,
Hands like golem and his ring
In my chest, shaking with
The anxiety I knew I shouldn’t
Keep—but cherished anyway,
Secret, mine, a way for me
To feel in control.
How long will I delay
The inevitable breakdown

That comes with realizing
All my most incarcerated,
Ebony-black thoughts
And parts of myself
Are with Him, and He
Only loves me
no matter
how dark
they are.

I was liberated when I came
Into close contact with your
super strong pole of perpetual poetry,
soaring in the bright azure skies
of your majestic existence.
My eyes were watery
as I fell inside your captivating cave,
your energy rising through my bones,
internalizing it all,
feeling your tremendous power
as I devoured your dynasty.
My mouth was full of ecstasy,
my tongue twirling around your hung *****,
kissing your trembling thighs,
my mind mesmerized by you
as I swallowed your rapturous
oceans of immense experiences.