fallen IV

like the rest
of them
you crawled into this world
through a woman
fully expecting
to crawl out again
through grave
you knew you were
different
with your imaginings
of your
stolen
wings
with your hearing
divine
voices
with your little
epiphanies
but all kids do that
right?
angels are wonderful
things
but you always felt
more at home
playing with
demons…
you never expected
that this was a
tell-tale sign
of your
true
nature.

i recently learned about an artist named eveyln de morgan (which is an awesome name.) she did some amazing work. i realized i
actually used her work once before, when i did myself as helen of troy.
this one here is inspired by another one of her paintings, clytie.
she did a lot of religious style works.
i might be borrowing from her a bit more during this series.

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fallen III

you’ve always known
you were
different
you thought
maybe
an alien
or an angel
a changeling of some sort
surely
something
mythical
& you are
mythical
as fuck
a beast of many
faces
you are not who you
expected
you would
be
but!
with a grin
& a shrug
you accept this turn
of events.

i’ve always played around with my dark side. i’ve always recognized it & even celebrated it. but this is the first time i have embraced it by making it my identity.
it’s liberating in a way i did not expect.
i have always struggled to believe i was good after being raised by parents who were quick to let us know we were not–in their weird covert catholic way.
i try to be good, but the bad leaks out & terrorizes me, traumatizes me, presents itself as proof that i will never ever be a good person.
i think we all have a devil/demons/darkness inside.
& maybe the more we fight it…push it down…try to “control” it, the stronger it becomes. the more traumatizing to the part of us that believes in good.
but embracing it.
welcoming it
accepting it
this allows a person to be more complete and at peace with themselves.
a healing of sorts.

it’s a theory, and i’m testing it with my art journals.
buckle up, y’all
i have got pages & pages of this stuff.
i’m not sure what to call it…a serial free verse narrative? with pictures!

fallen II

so tired are you
of the
hearts
of men
awful
pitiful
mewling
things
you search
hoping one day
to find one up
for the task
you thought
you’d found him
once
or
twice
but so fragile
are the hearts
of men
broken
turned to
dust
they slip though
your fingers
into
nothing.

okay. maybe i am having too much fun writing art journal pages as a fallen angel.
but it is so much so much fun.
and as any catholic girl can tell you from her church’s teachings, women are the devil.

so i’m just embracing that and running with it.

divine intervention

maybe i should not have
but i drowned 
all the fairies
in a glass of beer
with a drip of 
soap
drunken little bastards
they never returned
the pen
they stole
 but now i find myself
crossing my fingers
& waiting 
for the little voices
to whisper
again
telling me
what to write
guiding
my pen
in stories
they pull
from somewhere
deep
dark
inside me
as i watch
& wonder
“where the fuck
did they find 
that?”

don’t worry

spirits
ghosts
whispers of things
i do not know
a flutter
at the corner of my eye
voices
bumps in the night
letting me know
i
am
never truly
alone…
if i don’t
answer the door
don’t worry
one of my other
personalities
will
i am safe
tucked
into
the corners of my mind
trading secrets
with my demons
&
arguing
with my angels.

this is what happens when i start a thought on one day and finish it a day or two later. ha! i kind of like it.
in my effort to not escape me by binging on god-awful tv shows per netflix, i am only watching movies on netflix.
the other night, i watched the kindergarten teacher with maggie gyllenhaal. it has a five year old writing poetry and–of course–i started comparing my own “poetry” to his (which i am sure was actually written by a team of adults.) like i do with my art. then i have to remind myself that it is okay for me to be in love with someone else’s style…it does not mean that mine sucks.
right?
that’s the story i’m sticking with.
anyhoo…this random thought free verse started one day finished another…it kind of (just a little bit) reminded me of the poetry in the movie.

short story long.

and i do constantly argue with my angels. they are all like, “focus on you, heal you…” and i run off with the demons because they have a six pack, several seasons of some completely pointless & poorly written tv show, and smoldering looks of come-hither.

also, because i don’t seem to have a mother personality in place for myself–just a horde of wild women & some really awkward pre-teens–i keep going outside in the snow without shoes on to chase goats.
so my head cold should turn into pneumonia anytime now.

hurting

you can’t put your pain
in front of someone else’s
happiness
you can’t let your own darkness
eclipse
everyone else’s
light
you can’t
because who are you then?
you are the monster
you fear
the most.
taking what has hurt you
& hurting others
with it.

who can tell i was raised catholic? i swear i am not obsessed with angels nor do i entertain delusions of my own divinity. just the whole concept of wings & horns. the weight they carry. the meanings they portray.

i’m healing from this last dance with darkness…should you be wondering. two steps forward, one step back.
healing
and trying to heal
and forgetting to heal
but then remembering again.

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