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.

dark places

i haven’t been journaling or doing much of anything
other than binge-watching preacher
& staring at walls
i know this will pass
but it is so thick
& hard to see through
when i am in the midst of it

i tried to do a spell
to break free of the psychic attacks & negative energy
from dear old dusty
as well as setting a course for a magical life
i chose this guy as my companion

i keep drawing him
& hoping the spell takes hold

i hope to finish a commissioned piece today
& to work on more art to put over
at my etsy store
(i did open an etsy store!)
& i did finish a piece for one of my patrons
(become a patron & get original art!)

but there are two more episodes of preacher
& though the sun has finally come out
i am still wallowing in a dark place

dumping ground

i let you do this
to me
again
i let you in
to my heart
to my home
you
wiped your feet
on my soul
&
shat
on my couch
&
left
in disgust
at the filth
you dumped
all
over
me.

more elaborate metaphors for how i felt as dusty reacted to our break-up. probably our last break-up….

i don’t want to die

i don’t want to die
though
heavy with sadness
& struggling
to pull myself
out again
i don’t want to die
i don’t want to
escape
me
i want to heal
to grow stronger
to open
myself
to change
depression snuggles
into me like
a favorite sweater
but this time
i am looking
forward
to not getting lost
in it
but to taking
it off again
to feel the cool wind
on bare skin
ready
to grow
again.

this was written as i was getting a barrage of abusive text messages from dusty. i was struggling to keep my head up as i absorbed all the awful things he said about me.
i think i did manage to stay above it
even if sometimes i still felt like sinking….

big love

i’m willing
to love big
to love strong
i’m able
to love big
to love strong
i want to
love big
love strong
i need to
love big
love strong….
so what happens
when you push
that love away
refuse to love me
back
big & strong
what happens
to that love
what happens
to me?

i swear i have a big heart. i want to dote on someone & help them feel special. but how can i when i am treated poorly? then he thinks i’m some cold hearted bitch because i pull away. he thinks i reject him…but if i hadn’t of felt rejected, i would have been amazing.

why so bitter

i find myself
wondering
what i did
that i do not
deserve
happiness
what did i do
that i don’t
get to taste
sweetness
what is it
about me
that screams
“so very not
special”?

with the crashing & burning of yet another attempt to reconcile with dusty…i find myself in this mindset.
why do i allow men/relationships to take me for granted? why don’t i get flowers & fawning?
what is it about me….
this has been something that is deep in the bones of me. do i expect to be treated this way? is that why it is so difficult for me to demand more?

sour

at least i have my art journal….
feeling that desperate pull of loneliness as i miss being able to reach out to dusty.
he’s still there, of course, pretending nothing happened
but it did happen
he did break my heart again
i have to remind myself…
it’s not safe to pretend nothing happened.

gesundheit

i am in a terrible funk.
i feel like, in the words of richard marx, i should have known better.
why do i always hope this time is different?
am i just that desperate?
also i find myself wondering,
why does the patriarch spit out such a soul-crushing mentality in men?

inside me

to say the ex & i have communication problems is an understatement.
but i find like i feel like i’m being buried alive when i try & try & try to communicate–& the other party only hears what they want to hear.
i don’t know what to do.
do i give up?
or do i keep screaming?

shouldve said

i have
so much to say
but the words
come out
all wrong
in stammers
& fragments
i have
so much to say
but my brain
is tornado
valley
& nothing
comes out in the right
order
my best thoughts
flying away
at a moment’s
notice
only to come back
& settle on me
as i try
to sleep
a dusting of
“oh…i should’ve
said
that!”

a continuing of yesterday’s experience with social anxiety….

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