my wonderful walls

you know what
my walls are awesome
art deco
& mosaic
i should not just try
to knock them down
they protect
the garden of me
my life story
written
on those walls
my life’s work
written
into the stone
& sand
of them
my inner warrior
stands
at the garden gate
& my attempts
to break the walls down
casues her
to become
even more feral
& foreboding
but respect those walls
you & me
& that warrior
might just
grant you access
might just
show you her smile.

so trying to break down walls was a bit of the wrong direction. my walls are there for a reason. i might need to meditate on opening doors rather than tearing down an essential part of me.

seed or stone? (the second page)

how do i warm
to the idea of a
relationship
when so many
relationships
have brought me
pain?
how do i convince myself
“sure, let’s try this
again”
let’s invite
another
into my heart
my life
my bed
when all i know
is pain?
the sun needs to warm
the cold stone
i call my
heart
so it can
sprout
so it can
grow
into a majestic tree
green
&
fruitful.

this is the second page of a two page spread as i try to soften & open myself to relationships after a lifetime of keeping my heart shielded.

seed or stone?

I am a mushy plum
with a stone
for a heart
can i love?
am i even
able
to accept a man
into that hard hard
heart
of mine?
i think i am afraid
to make someone
happy
after so so many years
of being
so so
successful
at making others
miserable
what if
i would rather
make you cry
than to see
your smile?

i am thinking a lot about opening myself up to love. something i have not done for many many years–if ever. i built all these walls and traps to keep love away. now i am ready to think about family. and to me, family includes a relationship with a man.
but sometimes when i imagine being in a relationship…i just feel terrified.
and then i wonder if i am even capable of being in a relationship….

(here is the complete page–tomorrow’s post will be the opposite page to today’s)

bubbling cauldron

so much anger
am i angry
because
my brother
was murdered
& i am
too polite
to avenge him?
am i angry
that my ex-husband
destroyed me
leaving me
a broken person
rebuilding
&
no matter how many
times
i ink the story
he refuses to read it?
am i angry
that my sons
will never know
how much
i sacrificed
to be their
mother?
am i angry
at the world
for being
deliberately
blind
&
ignorant?

from my dead brother’s birthday through his death anniversary through holidays heavy with bad memories & deeply ingrained anxiety….
this time of year i can become just a bubbling cauldron of angst. add in a good dose of idocracy fueled by a corrupt government & medical system….
i have only had one public outburst…so yay for that.

surviving myself

i have a fear of abandonment
you see
like many people do
except
instead of clinging
when i feel forgotten
i alienate
i isolate
i build more & better
walls
higher & thicker
walls
because
you see
if you can’t get in
you can’t hurt me
if i never let you in
you can never
leave
me.

this one is dedicated to the last therapist i fired after he cancelled an appointment with me without telling me why. i was going through a hard time anyway & kinda spun out on him.
at an early age my frankenstein’s monster complex kicked in. “if i cannot inspire love, i will cause fear…”
or just turn invisible as was the case for me.
the more my parents ignored me, the more invisible i became.
my little sister became the squeaky wheel…i became the invisible girl.
my method has literally never worked out for me.
but
i persist. because, for an invisible girl, i am persistent in making myself even more miserable.
now
now i am trying to take some walls down…but even as i do, little setbacks get me to stirring the concrete & setting the bricks anew….

metaphors galore…a good name for a band.

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.

losing

fighting with you
used to be
something fun
to do
but
i’ve lost my taste
for it
now
it is only
heartbreak
& hopelessness
& walking in circles
in quicksand.

don’t spin me right round

the grooves are set
deep
so the song will play
flawlessly
he loves me
he loves me
not
he doesn’t want me
i fall apart
i put myself
back
together again…
the record spins
round
i recover
i always
recover
until the song plays
again.

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