blue me

it’s when
you’re feeling the most
self-destructive
that you are least
able to
embrace
self-care
self-love
self
acceptance
thrown under the bus
when you need them
most
instead
you burn bridges
alienate friends
hide under a rock 
avoiding your yoga guru
your morning routine
your
brisk
walk 
in fresh air
while saying fuck
fucking mindfulness
in the ass
while pouring another
drink 
and re-living every horror
every 
moment
of pain
or better yet
burying it all deep under
an avalanche
of 
forced smiles & 
no, really, 
look how good i’m doing.

this is one where i wrote down the rough thought & then tried (tried!) to flush it our while transcribing it.
also, i never wear high collared shirts because apparently they make me look like this. 

in other news…

i have a 22 year old “fan” over on tumblr who is flirting with me, & it is making me oh so uncomfortable. i wonder how men who date much younger women do it. i mean, i guess they just don’t care that there is a huge gap in what you know, what you’ve experienced, how much you are actually going to get of what i say….
bleah.
then my ex-husband (dusty fucker) texts me to ask if i am pregnant because we had “unprotected sex” a month ago. conveniently forgetting that i got an IUD after poppy was born.
or, rather, a year & a half after poppy was born–having refrained from sex for all that time because he was being a fucking asshole.
but, then, when i had the lapse of judgement of reuniting with dusty, under the condition that he be in a monogamous relationship with me, i agreed to get an IUD to prevent any further minions appearing. again, with the condition that he be monogamous. 
well, shocker. he lied to me, & i got an IUD while he continued to have sex with other people.
strange that he would forget. 

just so you know, the sex a month ago was a one time thing to get it out of my system–and it totally worked. 

i have been journaling about confidence and about the undeniable fact that–though i am lonely–i am choosing to be alone. so you have that to look forward to once i get around to doing the illustrations.

yee-ha

Advertisements

INKtober twenty-ninth

you killed the me
who thought i could be
a good
mother
you picked her apart
tore her down
slowly
…deliberately?
did you want
me
to fail?
you turn
away
every time
i show you
the pain you caused
& then i wonder
why
do
i
still
try?
it’s ridiculous
really
that i am
still
still
still fucking
trying
to convince you to care
about
me
the person you destroyed….
why
would you care
ever
much less
now?

so this took me long enough to figure out. if someone is okay with hurting me once…they are probably going to be okay with continuing to hurt me and they probably aren’t going to be sorry about it.
i’m a bit dense sometimes.
okay, i’m often a bit dense.
especially about people who i think should love me…but really really don’t.

INKtober twenty-second

i’m never going to know
love
the way it is
written
i’m never going to know
love
the way it
plays
on the radio
i’m never going to know
love
the way it translates
to
screen & stage
…unless
of course
tennessee williams
is at the
wheel.

so i am having a snoot of whiskey (that’s a thing, right? oh yes, it totally is–thanks google!) and embracing my inner tennessee williams…he is in there with my inner charles bukowski & my inner tom waits. they hang out inside me but are generally incoherent if you are wondering why my writing isn’t better….
anyhoo.
i survived my most recent bout of “watch me try to recycle an ex.” why do i always want to recycle exes? i think it goes back to the idea of leftover love & what to do with it. i tend to hate waste & to want to upcycle & whatnot.
so, yeah, i do that with love & relationships as well.
or i’m just lazy.
seriously though, laying down that foundation is so much work, & i am pretty swamped as it is.
but that is also the fun part. discovery…first kiss…first fight…eventual disillusionment. wait, i think i know why i am single.
more whiskey, barkeep!

INKtober twenty-first

leftover love
stuck
in the corners
of my
heart
like those spiders
living in my window panes
i just try to pretend
it is normal
accepted
and not really happening
leftover love
do i warm it up?
or let it stay cold
pushed to the back
of the fridge
growing
crusty.

a poem about my housekeeping skills…or lack thereof?

after another close call with sliding back into my dusty knickers…i wrote a letter/list of all the reasons i divorced him. quite an impressive list if one is impressed by a person’s ability to sabotage a relationship…anyhoo, the letter helped me to see more clearly & to remember why i am divorced.
i wrote it because i realized–amidst an argument over the phone after i told him that our getting back together was a bad idea–i realized he has never taken any blame in my divorcing him.
he presents it as: she divorced me; she is bad & deserving of my treating her like crap.
when, in fact, i had many many many reasons for divorcing him & gave him chance after chance after chance before divorcing him.
ack.
like he thinks i just flipped a coin & decided to turn all of our lives upside down??
seriously…it appears as if that is how he views my decision to divorce him.
so i wrote a list.
a long list.
which helped me, at least. and–hopefully–will help him accept his role in our relationship crashing & burning.

now i prepare for another long, cold winter–alone (you know, except for the four kids, four goats, two cats, a puppy, dozens of ducks, chickens, geese, a turkey named hamlet, & a ewe named elsa.) at least i know how to keep myself busy.

strangely, i do feel relieved to let go (again!) of hope for a dusty & me revival tour.

INKtober twentieth

i wish
i could be
in love with you & feel
good
about it
instead of felling like i am
about
to step
off a cliff
&
onto a land mine
which
instead of killing me instantly
& with no pain
will just tear me
to pieces
letting me die
a
slow
painful
death
cold & isolated
in my sorrow.

okay, my witchy & mystic friends, tell me…yesterday, while standing with dusty at sunrise, i watched (and then shouted & ran towards it) as a hawk flew down & tried to take off with one of my young chickens.
then, as i drove to the feed store with iggy & poppy, a hawk flew along side our car for about a quarter of a mile.
then today, as i drove to the farmer’s market with my minions, a hawk flew off of a post and practically right into my windshield. i actually ducked inside my car for fear of  being hit by a hawk. (the hawk, however, did not make contact with my car)

what is the universe trying to tell me?

dusty came down to our house for poppy’s & fidgit’s birthdays. he spent one night & returned to wisconsin. there was some physical activity between the father of my children & me. i have been celibate (man, it took me forever to remember that word just now) for about a year & a half, so i was overdue for some…and i don’t regret it…but i also don’t think there is a future for dusty & myself as a “couple”…despite our smoking hot chemistry.
nothing changes. nothing stays the same.
i felt defeated after he was gone.
nothing changes.
and today when i tried to explain my lack of hope to him…it quickly turned into a mud slinging free-for-all.
yay.

so is that it? are the hawks just telling me to pay attention? to listen to the signs i am given? to trust my instinct?

ah fuck.
i’m going to die alone.
but at least the universe hasn’t given up on me.

INKtober ninteenth

when you spend
so many years of your
life
with that one
person
one person
through
death & life
divorce & marriage
though all the hoops
life throws
at you
when you spend so much
of your
love
all in one place
hearts become woven
together
tight like knots
impossible
to untie
even when you use your
teeth
shout
&
curse
when you spend so much
of your
self
he somehow becomes a part
of you
too much
a part
of
you.

i started out thinking “picasso” but kind of ended up all “sideshow bob.”

how do people ever recover from long term relationships…or is it like when someone dies–you never really get over it, you just learn to live with the loss? so with relationships gone wrong–you just have to learn to live with that leftover love?

leftover love. sounds like the start of another page.

INKtober eighteenth

five years ago
you were a total
turd
five years ago
i spent the longest day
in unholy pain
pushing out a baby
i knew
would
destroy
me
while you denied
our relationship
while you created
futures
with a woman who wasn’t
me
while you conspired
& lied
& spat bitter words
resenting me
for the baby you planted
the baby i grew
inside me
resenting me
for still loving you
for still wanting you
five years ago
i learned to hate you
to hate the stranger you chose
over me
while i struggled
to learn
to love
my own child.

so while shopping for a madonna & child depiction i noticed something in all those paintings of that duo. mary never looks  happy or especially devoted to the often freaky looking infant lord she has birthed. she usually just looks exhausted, resigned, sad, distant.

my first pregnancy, i was all about being the mom. i was so over-the-top devoted to being a mom. the same could almost be said for the following two pregnancies. my fourth, however, planted there perhaps by some unholy spirit with a terrible sense of humor…my fourth was an accident. a very much unwanted accident. an extra ovulation in an aging woman’s quixotic reproductive system.
during that difficult pregnancy, dusty began his most destructive affair.
it is difficult for me not to remember all of that pain on this, my fourth child’s fifth birthday. when i look at that sad & overwhelmed madonna barely holding on to her “blessed event,” i can feel her pain.
as much as i love poppy, he can be a very difficult child. i wonder if he senses my hesitancy to be his mother. if all of that strife during the pregnancy permanently tainted my beautiful son. i want him to be happy, and when he is, my heart feels lighter.
but when he is angry & sad, i can feel his pain and believe it to be entirely my fault…& dusty’s.

INKtober seventeeth

i just feel so sad
i cry
& i don’t
know why
but still
the tears come
will there come
a time
when my very being
is not
composed
entirely
of tears?
just because i open
my heart
does not mean
i am someone
you know
i am
quite
unknown
possibly
unknowable
i don’t want to be
alone
but maybe i
cannot
be
anything
but the loneliest person you have ever met.

i still haven’t recovered from the show the mysteries of laura being cancelled…you know, three years ago–but i just found it on netflix and i know it isn’t really that great of a show…but i was emotionally invested nonetheless. c’mon–i’ve seen every episode ever of friends (when originally aired even!) you know i have my shallow bits.

okay.
so i know it has everything to do with dusty & my lingering love for him. my hope for a thing called “us.”
though there is every chance in the world that i will never be successful in any relationship ever.
but who is? you ask. well, from where i’m sitting…everyone.
or i feel like everyone i see is successfully human & relate-able while i am some funky misshapen thing from outer space….

i don’t feel like arting & inking…but i did this anyway–because it is inktober & i’m trying not to be a drop out because how fucking hard is it for someone with my neurotic & compulsive inking habits to not ink something every day?

i am not sure my art journal page nor my blog about it makes any sense today. but, you know, i’m more worried about what the fuck i am going to disappear into on netflix now that i have watched every episode of the mysteries of laura….

INKtober sixteenth

i don’t know
if i should
laugh
or
cry
live or die
make the best
of a
bad
situation
or…
just don’t…
my heart’s not into it
this game of
life
my heart
left
during intermission
my life is
an intermission
as the band says
should i stay
or
should i
go?

so this is completely stupid. i started watching a tv show on netflix. a mediocre tv show that reminded me of all the cop/detective shows i so so loved as a child.
the mysteries of laura…it even has a stupid name.
& yet i let it be my soothsayer.
the series begins as the lead character–a strong, intelligent, & stubborn woman, is just divorcing her adorable but cheating asshole of a husband.
the show was pretty predictable & the characters lacked depth and each episode was neatly wrapped up in 50 minutes….but i was glued to the series as i waited to see what would happen between laura & her cheating ex, jake.
he was devoted to getting her back.
she found a hot new guy.
but then dumped him when she realized she was still in love with jake.
alas.
jake proposed to someone else… (so much for devotion.)
and the second season ended…not to be renewed by nbc.

fuck a fucking duck.
my magic eightball went ka-put.
and i sobbed like a toddler who dropped her ice cream on the hot sidewalk.

so i’m kind of disgusted with myself right now.
really actually pretty much
disgusted.
and i’m probably going to cry myself to sleep again tonight.

thanks nbc.
think of that next time you decide to cancel a show.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑