once upon a sacral chakra

as my sacrum
awakens
after such a long sleep
i find old feelings
&
new ones
too
unworthy
shameful
imposter
but also…
powerful
magical
creator
my sacrum is a plant
needing
sunlight
&
nourishment
before blooming into
an amazing
vibrant
fragrant
flower
i cannot forget
to water her
& repeat to myself
“i am worthy.”

i have been working on opening chakras. i try to keep my heart open & remind myself, “i am valuable.” and now i am also working on keeping my sacral chakra open & telling myself, “i am worthy.”
once upon a time i was very confident in myself as a sexual being despite my catholic upbringing. but steady abuse by men as well as motherhood made me hide that light deep deep inside & feel ashamed of it.

feeling it again is so nice. re-claiming it gives me all kinds of power.

the magic is mine

it is me
not them
the magic is mine
not theirs
but
i give it away
too easily
(it is mine to give)
then i start thinking
that the magic
was never mine
to begin with
when
really
the magic
was me
& wherever i happen
to leave it
it
never
leaves me.

my illustration kinda mirrors the other goddess one i did a couple days back. it’s how i am feeling lately, i guess: open.
as someone who has spent a lot of her life feeling she needs to have walls & trenches & guards alert always…it is nice to feel open.
i do prefer the open feeling.
even though it can make my guards pretty itchy.

a muse ing

mental health
is a loyal muse
she never wanders
far
away
& seemingly
is quite easily
summoned
sometimes just
by a song on the radio
or a careless word
mental health
is an accommodating muse
willing to wait
with open arms
for you
to
crawl
back to her.

i have a friend who got a mental health diagnosis &, fortunately, has herself submerged in a writer’s workshop…so she immediately wrote it into a story.
i love that.
i love people using what could knock them over to, instead, create.
which is one reason i am starting a group of creators (writers & artists) to come together as a community to support & encourage & listen.
i am pretty excited…or, rather, terrified about it.
but i’m doing it.

awaken

i am a goddess of creation
i am a feeling goddess
a healing goddess
the cosmos whirls in my womb
i can draw down the moon
climb inside
& see you in my dreams
i want to feel
your pain
so i can heal
your pain
i want to give you
what you need
but!
you must honor me
honor that energy
that moves
inside me
like a hurricane
do not take me for granted
or offer me any injury
i am a goddess of creation
but never forget
when creation is not respected
destruction follows
i want to give you what you need
but you better
never ever
not once
fuck with me.

i wrote this after an especially opening body work session. a part of me that has been shut down for many years, opened up & released this trapped goddess part of me.
pretty fucking cool.

the shaman

the first song of the day
my oracle
of the mix
“kiss off” by the femmes
i need someone
a person to talk to
someone who’d care
to love
could it be you?

followed by the kinks
“tired of waiting”
i meditate
on my absent soul mate
& draw a tarot card
the shaman…
& i say, “oh crap…this can’t be good.”
nope.
a time of isolation
of finding
thyself
no time for looking
outside
when i have
so much
work
to do
inside…
crap.

the next day, my oracle song was the femmes again…”add it up.” why why can’t i get just one fuck?
the universe wants me to keep it in my pants it seems–though i obviously have other desires.
of course the universe is right because i am way too easily distracted by even just potential–even just a hint–of a relationship.
today i got the kinks again.
“everybody’s gonna be happy.”
promises promises…
but i keep doing my work. getting stronger every day.

(i do have a lot more songs on my mix than just the femmes & the kinks…it’s just they keep turning up in the first song i play.)

obsolete

i
am
pointless
a redundancy
a misplaced narrative
that does not need
to be found
not really
just
let me gather dust
in a corner
forgotten
impotent
obsolete.

i have been super depressed the past few days. the world, of course, is a mess. i, of course, am a mess. my parenting skills are questionable. my relationship attempt with the ex crashed & left me heartbroken…again.
but i was so tired of myself
that i couldn’t even journal
so i just kept spiraling downward.
but!
i picked up my pen yesterday & managed to write these few words.
& that totally helped to exorcise demons & sweep away dark thoughts.

in related news, i am trying to start a creative group of people who can come together for support & encouragement. i got one text this morning after posting a classified on our little town’s local listings. yay! & i got support coming in from the community center i keep my freestore at (yes, my freestore is still a thing.)

moving forward, y’all. moving forward.
sometimes pretty fucking slowly, but moving forward nonetheless.

cut me down

like an apple tree dropping fruit
doing the math in its head
5 + 6 + 4 + 4….
like a walnut tree
chunking its nuts at the ground
chunk!
th-unk!
unsettling
setting off fear responses
fight or flight?
but the squirrels know what to do
they bury the nuts
for later
& if they forget?
the walnut tree renews itself
sending out a taproot
so deep
you can cut it down
but it will grow right back
i always grow back
i am resilient if nothing else
i am that
he cuts me down
over & over again
but i grow back
every
time.

i have been working on fiction stories for my next collection (without having properly finished my first collection.) & wondering about starting a writing group….
i wrote this in my journal as i sat enjoying an autumn day.
but it works as free verse too.
& it’s a true story.

letting go

we should be proud
of ourselves
that we gave it
one
last
try
we should not
be so hard
on ourselves
for failing at something
we had little chance
of winning
you & i
just do not
belong
together
we should accept
let go
move on
& just stop
fighting
a truth we may not
agree with
but a truth
nonetheless.

i wish i could say this to him. but i am at the point where i am not even able to talk to him. anything i say–everything i say, he finds a way to twist into something ugly & profane.
i find
i just have to say less & less.
which drives him crazy. that is not my intent. i wish we could have a conversation & work things out.
but after enough circles, i really can’t see a happy ending for us.

the prison of me

i need to break out
of the prison
of me
i’ve built some high
walls
dug some deep
trenches
it
won’t
be
easy
but i need
to be free
of me
(not all of me)
just the bits that
whisper
the bits that
scorn
the bits that kill me
a little
at a time
telling me
i’m not good enough
not
brave
enough
not ready for the world
the bits that tell me
to just
go home
& hide away
don’t even try.

inspired by my tarot card reading that asserts i am creating my own restrictions to my happiness (with some help from the ex.)
but i need to break out of the groove
i have set
for myself
first.
then, maybe, i can stop letting others put me in boxes.

imagine

what if
there were no political
parties
what if
it was simply
candidates
& you voted for the candidate
who best represented
your world view
& supported
your ideals?
you say
black lives matter
yet you align yourself
with a
candidate
who pushed for laws
intended to incarcerate
black people
with a vp
who enforced those laws
is that really
really really
who you want
running your country?
now
imagine you had a
real choice.

“you may say i’m a dreamer, but i’m not the only one.”

here in the states i am known as a “third party voter.” that is i do not support a two party system & am trying to break said system down. i am neither democrat or republican. i usually choose a candidate by how i think they will govern.
i believe in voting for someone…not voting against someone. i refuse to believe i have to choose the lesser of two evils.

so hate me if you must for how you perceive that i am hurting you by exercising my right to vote. you won’t be the first….

but i refuse to pretend that biden is not at least as big a piece of shit as trump & cannot understand how anyone can vote for him.
so i have joined the libertarian party this election season.
because if there is anything my raging abusive father taught me it is this: question authority.

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