what i really really want

okay
i know what i want
a man
whom i do not
have to take care of
a man
who is utterly
hopelessly
devoted to me
an equal
be that he is broken
or whole
fire or earth
he will not need to be
rescued
& he will think i am
the cat’s pajamas.

uugh. more thoughts on relationships. but! an important thought at least.
what i want from a relationship: a dude who does not need to be rescued!!!!!! i don’t care if he has issues–just as long as he does not make them my issues.
recently in an exchange with dusty, he said something about how he & i were both broken when we met–& expected the other one to fix us. i told him to speak for himself.
i have never ever ever expected anyone to fix me. i just want someone to accept me & celebrate me & let me deal with my own issues. & i will do the same for him.

not of this world

i think maybe i am waiting
longing
for someone who is not
of this realm
i think maybe
i am not the only one
who feels
this way
songs full of other world
energy
art on a canvas
showing us
an understanding
not of this world
but an impossible other
stories that explore worlds
we can only see
in our hearts…
i can only hope
that the someone whom my heart
calls to
somehow finds his way
to share
not just an emotional sphere
with me
but a physical one
as well.

i’m getting tired of my own posts about relationships. i wrote this like a week ago? and since then i have downward spiraled to a place where i am “fuck everyone i’m going to dig a hole & never come out.”
so relationships are not a top priority for me at this moment in time as i try to dig myself back out of the grave i have put myself in to.
and i’m kind of annoyed with me.
but! i do remember that i wrote this post after crying while reading the wishing of biddy malone to my kids. a story about an irish lass who falls in love with a fairy.

i do really like the creepy baby hand angel though.

spectacular

i can’t do mundane
it must be
spectacular
if i can’t have
spectacular
i will have
nothing
i will be alone
i’m too old
it’s too late
to settle for less than
amazing.

more thoughts on relationships. i spent all those years when i was young & the world was my oyster not being discriminating at all in my dating habits.
now i’m older with much fewer options for companionship, and all of a sudden i have developed standards? that sounds about right.

scared silly

yeah i’m scared
i’m totally terrified
but
does that mean
i want to hide away
for the rest
of my
life
or!
do i want to
take a chance
& risk
another
broken
heart?

more thoughts on dating & relationships & venturing out from behind my walls…my glorious walls….

peeling the onion

what if
my overwhelming desire to be out
of that
relationship
by any means necessary
was not a reflection
on my
ability
to commit…
some sort of self-sabotage…
no, not at all
in fact
a survival instinct
what if
i knew he was wrong
wrong for me
wrong to me
even though on the surface he was
mr. right
what if
my escapist tendencies are all
the only thing
that keeps me from falling
into
the
abyss
of a relationship with a narcissist
not a bad thing
not at all
not something to punish myself for
20 years later
but!
something to celebrate
i
survived.

i’m finding layers, y’all. all kinds of layers. things are not just black & white, good or bad…there is all kinds of stuff going on in the layers.
my energy is shifting.
it’s kinda pretty awesome & i feel a giddy feeling about it. so giddy.

this is a thought i had about a person–many many posts on him. we were together and he said he was my true love and all i wanted to do was run and i did run a couple of times but i tried so hard to make it work and all i wanted was out.
then he left me for someone else. in a pretty fucking cruel way.
and i spent too much of my life thinking i did something wrong & fucked my entire life up by not being able to love him the way i thought i should have loved him.
then, i realized, though he did it a bit differently, he was pretty much the same as all the other charming assholes that my gut said, “RUN!!” about.

funny that instinct. not always a bad thing, running away.

the illustration is based on an egon schiele sketch.

my own

you have your
issues
i have mine
one of which
is my habit
of thinking of exes
as that favorite worn-in
pair of jeans
the work
already done &
you know they fit (ish)
when
in fact
my exes are more like
the broken coffee
grinders
lining that shelf
in a forgotten cabinet
where i stashed them
wondering
if i could one day
fix them
or
at the very least
figure out
the appropriate way
to recycle
them.

this is written in response to those who would be quick to judge my collection of exes and my mixed feelings about them.
it’s my issue.
my own.
i’ll sort it out. don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.

again, my hair totally looked like this when i got up this morning. it’s colored fuschia right now, and i had it ink a hair band while it was wet–and then slept on it. i should have taken a picture. it was glorious.

i’m a fucking flower. a beautiful fucking blooming flower.

boxcar willy

i have found
i can start a poem
about one of them
&
end the same
poem
on notes of an
other
i have found
i can start crying
over one of them
&
then forget
which one
i am crying
about
maybe
that long
train of men
is just the same damn
boxcar
going past
going past
going past
while i stand
stuck
at the
crossroad.

this has happened a lot as i have let go of the notion that seymour was any different than dusty.
now i get them confused.
i feel the same sense of loss…the same frustration…the same sense of abandonment…the same anger towards the both of them.
i have noticed patterns in the men i end up with. but now i am beginning to suspect it is just the same guy, going out the door, putting on a hat & fake mustache, and coming back in.
or–at least–that’s what it feels like.

tall dark & handsome

he came to me in a dream
ready to end
my misery
with talons
like razors
a creature from–
well…
nightmares
a feathered man
tall dark & handsome
my sure
demise
but to my credit
i fought
for my
wretched
life
even resorting to
my
feminine
wiles.

a little something different.
maybe too much halloween candy, but i had a vivid dream last night about a big blackbird-man who came to finish me off. except he was also sexy. i think i have a pretty conflicted view of men.
speaking of….
so who remembers clan of the cave bear? my brain often references the idea in it that ayla is guarded by her spirit animal, the cave bear who scarred her. she is thereby deemed to have too strong of an energy for most men to mate with her and make a child with her.
i think of the grizzly bear as one of my main spirit guides. i feel her energy in me & feel i am protected by her.
i have found that my strength makes dating tricky. which i think is weird…but it seems to be true.
until (at least) this point in my life i have chosen physically small men. feminine men. men who do not seem threatening to me…. yes, i chose them. if i wait to be chosen, it is a long wait. however, most of the men i choose then turn me upside down–& not in a good way. most of them seem threatened by me. most of them try to dominate & degrade me.
so i’m thinking maybe i should be looking for a romantic interest that has–at least–the grizzly bear spirit i have?
i dunno.
just brainstorming here. it’s not like i have suitors lining up at my door to choose from.

 

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