absolution

the one who
wronged me
the one who
betrayed me
the one i
still
love
i laid at his feet
to seek absolution
for my sins
against
him
i held his cold feet
in my hands
i bathed his cold feet
with my hair
with my kisses
he reached out to me
still believing
he
loved
me
but in all the wrong ways
…nevermind
i seek forgiveness
realizing that his sins
against me
are a black mark
on
his
soul
his own soul
to save
the only sins i need to worry
about
are my own
my own
sins
forgiven
i am
free.

the previous post i wrote in my bedside notebook just before falling asleep. this post i wrote upon waking. only while posting them here did i realize both are about sins & forgiveness…maybe that full blood moon shining on my catholic shadows?

this one is written about the dream i had before i woke up this morning. one of a re-occurring theme of my seeming to beseech my ex-husband for love & attention while he is cold & distant.
but this one took on the flavor of mary magdalene bathing jesus’s feet.
which i found to be awesome in its symbolism
(speaking of which…i once had a sex dream about jesus in which he got up & left after he finished but before i did, leaving me frustrated–to return to his flock of women–if i remember right…)

it seems like i have been trying to decipher the re-occurring dream theme about my ex-husband for years.
however, i think this is it. i think i have to let my sins against him be forgiven and not concern myself with his sins against me. i mean, they are his sins. he has to live with that. i have to live with my own.
so maybe its time i let them go.

thank goodness my subconscious finally decided to go with the mary magdalene theme so i could figure out what it wanted to tell me all these years.
though my ex-husband would enjoy it way too much to perceive himself as a jesus figure. he always loves it when someone tells him he looks like jesus (the blue-eyed version)–which happens way too often. fuck, what more would a narcissist want than to identify himself as the savior of mankind?

ode to an ex-husband

you don’t think
you are
being 
a motherfucker
because
being a 
motherfucker
is the only
reality 
you know
but
trust me
as the sole
beneficiary 
of your
motherfuckery
you
are
being

mother
fucker.

this is an actual text i sent to my ex-husband. i do not have a smart phone–so i had to type it all out without the aid of a keyboard. that’s how dedicated i am to letting my ex-husband know what a motherfucker he is. 

choosing to survive

except
i chose to be alone
i did
i did not
i did not choose
for my ex-husband to be an 
asshole
but i did choose
to live without an asshole
in my life
which meant
i was left all alone
& lonely
i accept that i have ultimately
made that choice
& am also
choosing
not to simply let anyone
any warm body
be
the company
i so desire
so
yes
i choose
to be alone
even if
i would rather not
be
lonely.

i felt that it was important for me to acknowledge this to myself. to know that i am not just a victim of my life. i make choices to try to be stronger & to try to heal the pain and damage i have suffered. though i believe my decisions of late will help me in the long run, that doesn’t mean i enjoy the immediate effects of them. 

meanwhile, i went to iowa city to check out their developing eco-village. it was beautiful & the people were really cool…but i do not have anywhere near to the money i would need as it requires actually buying a flat or duplex. 
i will talk to them to see if there are any options for a broke-ass mama like me…but i don’t think it is someplace i can move to anytime soon. so i am still trying to figure out my next move, a move back to community and away from the isolation of my homestead.
but i was happy to–briefly–be back in iowa city. i wish i had never left. 
i wonder what that parallel universe looks like….

on the topic of money. i have decided that i have to actually demand child support from my ex-fucker. i mean, dur. or rather, i shouldn’t even have to demand it–he should just be paying it. but that is not ever going to happen. he is paying just a token amount because i let him get away with that & now he actually has a job where he could afford to pay more…but he is not. he is not supporting his children because he doesn’t think he should have to. 
this makes me so sad. 
and i really do hate being the heavy.
and he is so good at making me feel like shit whenever he puts me in the position where i have to ask him for anything. 
oh! 
and i did tell him, when we did the minion swap, that if i were using him as a punching bag (as he likes to accuse me) that would mean i was angry about something else & taking it out on him. 
i let him know that he is not my punching bag because the anger i am directing at him is anger that i have at him–my frustration with him…appropriately directed at him.
fucking manipulative motherfucker. 

i am…alone

i am
sylvia plath
i am
vincent van gogh
i am
the bronte sisters
yes
all three
trapped on the moors
watching 
the moon
blow across
a sky full of stars
blown
by a relentless
wind
worlds exploding
within our imaginations
while loneliness
feasts
on our souls.

you are due a little break after this one. an optimistic-ish upturn as it were. i mean, it’s not hearts & flowers…but less doom & gloom. i am the moon after all. i wax & wane most gloriously.

i have not yet tackled the task of going through my journals for “poems” & art work to be put together in a collection.
i have been a bit down on myself (no! me??) and prone to comparing myself to others to whom success seems an easier venture…and hating them most enthusiastically….
but i am going to do it. i’m going to put together a collection. i’m going to publish it. and i will have my own group of people who enthusiastically hate me for it.
also, i need to start the cards i was commissioned to do.
and i am waiting to hear back from the one who commissioned this

as they have told me they want eleven more illustrations. 

plus, you know, searching for a new home…raising four minions…preparing for winter…training a puppy…deciding what to do with livestock who won’t stop being naughty…oh! & apparently bartering with the father of my children to see if he is “willing” to pay more than $200 a month child support so i can take proper care of his four children…just the normal to do. 

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

heart of stone

maybe
you are just another
of my crimes
against
humanity
a trail of
broken men
behind me
(they were like that
when i found them
really)
pieces missing
malfunctioning parts
misfiring hearts
sure
other women
will say it is my fault
as they stroke
your hair
& stare
into your big blue eyes
comforting you
with kisses
exclaiming at how mean
i must be
how heartless & cruel
“good luck, ladies!”
i holler from
my cave on the hill
high above
that trail of broken men.

this is one that i started writing in my head as i lay in bed not wanting to leave the warm covers to walk to my journal in my “office” (aka the kitchen.) but–what is this? i finally put a notebook on the shelf next to my bed!
so this one was not lost to the crack in my head where loose mental post-its collect, unwritten, unread….
i’m glad i wrote it. i like it.
and i finally got to be a gorgon. it had been suggested by one reader before that my hair made me look gorgonian. and i have thought of that many times as my hair wiggled to life under my pen.
today i used a bamboo pen to bring my hair to life.
i like it.
so there is that.

this is based on my thinking about dusty & how the first time i broke up with him he started dating some girl & was sure to report to me that she said he was a great guy.
“you are a great guy,” i replied, meaning it–believing it was some fault of mine that i could not stand the idea of staying with him.
however, with each break up & each reunion & every moment more that i knew him, i meant it less & less.
today i no longer think that dusty is a great guy.
then i began to wonder if it is my fault his greatness diminished.
i mean, i did break up with him relentlessly over a period of like seven? eight years? maybe i warped him?
of course, it was not difficult to find reasons to run. it became way more difficult to find reasons to stay, reasons to risk my mental  & emotional health by staying with a manipulative narcissist.
i think over those years i saw more & more of who he was…really was. i got to know him better than anyone else ever. i got to see into the depths of his so-called soul….

yet all those girls/women to come will think they are the first to really really know him–& they will think i was just some awful & cold bitch to hurt him like i did.

they will want to love him truly which will then heal him and he will love them always.
poor things.

good riddance

sometimes
he shows me
something
other than his wounded self
other than the
sad & scared
little boy
inside
the one he expects
me
to take care of
instead
sometimes
his true colors
emerge
brighter than the
blue of his eyes
fangs & claws
cruel words come easily
as jekyl
turns to hyde
& i am almost
almost
relieved
to see the one
he keeps
hidden
away
as much as it hurts
the pain is a
relief
compared to the
confusion.

after i wrote this (based on a text fight with dusty)…i began to wonder if this side of him is actually yet another of his chameleon colors. i mean, maybe he is channeling me when he becomes snarky like this? his interpretation of my behavior? is he showing his true colors or is he just copying my personality? like when he is like this, he calls me “dude.” that is totally me. i call him dude when i am frustrated with him.
and he is all bitchy at me.
recently, someone called me “charming,” and i let him know that he was the very first person to ever call me that.
he was.
no one calls me charming. i am too honest & too blunt. i don’t bother with filters. i am a “bitch” or “scary” by many assessments. however, i am a kind person. i do care deeply for others & will help anyone i can help & feel badly if i can’t. but i am not good at social niceties. i never have been and really don’t care to learn. though i am polite. i say “please” & “thank you….”
additionally, some of what he says feels like he is being fed lines from someone else. telling me not to use him as a punching bag when i call him on his bullshit. who told him to say that, i wonder.
does dusty in fact have a real personality or are they all borrowed?
i wonder.
but seeing this side of him does make me feel better about my decision to kick his ass out of my life. anyone who is capable of being a shit to me after all i have done for him…all those things that he pretends i never did, choosing to remember the times i stood up for myself & didn’t give him what he wanted…choosing to remember those times as my being unfair to him.

bleah.
whatever the fuck.
good riddance.

i did the illustration after i wrote this post. i really did NOT want to do another self-portrait of myself as a victim–suffering someone else’s bad behavior. instead i decided to celebrate my own bad behavior.

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 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.

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