moonlight epiphanies

moonlight epiphanies

maybe i cursed myself
not the moon
not a man
but me
i brought down
my mojo
locked it away
safe inside
keeping love
as a thing
i’ll never
meet.

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valentine’s heart

my heart
turned black
again
it waxes & wanes
the moon inside me
today it is a dark dark place
where neither
man nor beast
is welcome
it is heavy & cold
but also burning like
a demon’s fire
a storm no one will
survive.

yay! valentine’s day. shiny happy people and all that.
in my high school you used to be able to buy tissue paper flowers to be given to people you cared about. the color reflected the sentiment.
every year i thought, sure, i might get a flower this year.
nevery year did i get a flower. nevery.

but i still had hope.
i still waited for a valentine.
fucking charlie brown i was.

in my twenties i would make valentines and take them to the bar and hand them out to people i loved.
in my twenties my heart was broken into a million pieces…shortly after valentine’s day. broken in a way that a person like me doesn’t recover from.
it took me years
years
to realize how damaged i was
how damaged i had been
how much damage there was in my heart…
i am still learning about the damage that is me. twenty-two years later. twenty-two valentine’s days later.
figuring it out.

fuck.

the battle rages inside me

it’s okay
to let go
just let go
you can listen to that song
on the radio
you can sing
along
you can remember him
& the good times
you can let go of the hurt
of the pain
it does not serve you
anymore
it does not suit you
it shadows your smile
(& you have
such a beautiful
smile)
so sing along
remember your sorrows
if you must
but let them fly
into the night
sparks
from the fire
of your soul.

ugg. i wrote this yesterday in a moment of so-called clarity when i could smell hope in a sunbeam & hear the unicorns whispering good things….
i illustrated it today after my soul crumpled & broke, spilling out onto the kitchen floor.
me, as joan of arc.
battling on.
doomed to die in flames but under the illusion of the divine.

crap.

i was so trying to be more optimistic.

playing with demons

invoking one demon
to do battle
‘gainst another
inviting a demon in
to drive another
out
it’s a tricky thing
to do
& is oddly
entertaining
appealing
to see them tear
at each other
blood & gristle
claw & horn
pain that would
otherwise
be yours
your demons share
with one another
but…
when the smoke has cleared
you are still left
with one more demon
to banish.

aw crap. i called dusty to help. he came, & he helped. and my mom doted on him and said i never should have divorced him and she praised him while she defiled me. and he never stood up for me. he never confronted her until she spoke badly of him? of the minions? until he was grumpy & she was an inconvenience?

then they clashed. and battled. and i should not have enjoyed it…but i did.

in 2010, when i divorced him, my mom took him aside and told him, “it’s not your fault. she is difficult to live with” and he didn’t say anything. this past visit, there were multiple days of her talking about what an awful daughter i am.
and he said nothing.

so, yeah, a sad, sick part of me liked watching them scream at each other.

but now my parents are gone. we are left with no common enemy…just each other. and he has already projected that i am rejecting him.
now i am walking on eggshells not around my volatile parents but around my volatile ex-husband.

unicorn me

i realized today
that it is a bit
redundant
for me to call
myself
unconventional….

it’s like if a unicorn was all like,
“hello! i’m a unicorn!”
(yes, i’m comparing myself to a unicorn & if you are all like, “as if!” you can just suck it. i am a shiny happy unicorn!)

i wrote this epiphany while hiding in my room on new year’s day after i screamed at my parents about the murder of my cat in the late 1970s.

they left on saturday. my mom was all, “thank you so much! you must visit us in texas!” whereas just two days before she was saying how she was going to spend the rest of her life drunk because of my being such an ungrateful daughter.

dusty suggested she has borderline personality disorder. i just feel sad. because if there actually is something wrong with her and maybe it could have been treated and maybe she could have been a good mom to me instead of always hating me for not being what she thought i should be….

sigh.

life goes on.

after they left, i felt like i did after my brother died. listless…unfocused…traumatized.
then it switched.
i started feeling free. like i had a second chance at life. like i had dodged a bullet and now i had the chance to turn everything around.

i need to start taking notes and putting thoughts in order and creating the comic that will exorcise this demon for good.

frankenstein’s monster

i thought my soul
was calloused over.
that they could do
no more
to hurt me.
i guess a mother’s
love
or lack
thereof
is
something
you
never
grow too old
to be affected by.

no, wait, this is my favorite self-portrait. it’s me, as frankenstein’s monster. i am really happy about this.
the motivation, not so much.

my parents plane takes off in 25 hours and 30 minutes. i have barely survived. my anxiety has developed its own anxiety.

but i have not killed them nor myself.
there is nothing like having the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally
the ONE person who is supposed to love you
no matter what
there is nothing like hearing her say to you
“you are a bad person”
or her calling you an “asshole”
& a “stupid-ass”
& an “interloper.”

it has been eye-opening. and healing in its own weird way to realize where all this low-self esteem comes from.
and, of course, tons of material for an upcoming tell-all memoir.

dodo dreaming

when i was a kid
i coped by mentally packing
planning
what will i take?
where will i go?
what will i do?
when i was in an abusive
relationship
i coped
by mentally packing
what will i take?
where will i go?
what will i do?
somehow
circumstances
have led me back
to my childhood
home
& the precarious situation
of having my parents
as my
landlords.
if things
should
turn
ugly
my brain is already
always
packing….

look at dodo bird me.
i wish i could say things with my folks were magically healing and wonderful. that my mom gave me a hug and said, “sorry i was such a crap-ass mom.” and then dad would apologize for being an asshole. and then unicorns would dance across rainbows.

my mom is not talking to me. my dad is avoiding me.
mom only talks to complain about me and to sing dusty’s praises–loudly in front of me. apparently he is a better daughter than i have ever been. for the life of me, i cannot think of anything i have done to her.
whatever it was it must have been super awful.
i had dusty come down. he has the super powers of a sociopath where he can be in the trenches and not be effected.
not mentally & emotionally
shut down.
dusty is literally a life-saver in this situation.
literally.