the magic is mine

it is me
not them
the magic is mine
not theirs
but
i give it away
too easily
(it is mine to give)
then i start thinking
that the magic
was never mine
to begin with
when
really
the magic
was me
& wherever i happen
to leave it
it
never
leaves me.

my illustration kinda mirrors the other goddess one i did a couple days back. it’s how i am feeling lately, i guess: open.
as someone who has spent a lot of her life feeling she needs to have walls & trenches & guards alert always…it is nice to feel open.
i do prefer the open feeling.
even though it can make my guards pretty itchy.

awaken

i am a goddess of creation
i am a feeling goddess
a healing goddess
the cosmos whirls in my womb
i can draw down the moon
climb inside
& see you in my dreams
i want to feel
your pain
so i can heal
your pain
i want to give you
what you need
but!
you must honor me
honor that energy
that moves
inside me
like a hurricane
do not take me for granted
or offer me any injury
i am a goddess of creation
but never forget
when creation is not respected
destruction follows
i want to give you what you need
but you better
never ever
not once
fuck with me.

i wrote this after an especially opening body work session. a part of me that has been shut down for many years, opened up & released this trapped goddess part of me.
pretty fucking cool.

the shaman

the first song of the day
my oracle
of the mix
“kiss off” by the femmes
i need someone
a person to talk to
someone who’d care
to love
could it be you?

followed by the kinks
“tired of waiting”
i meditate
on my absent soul mate
& draw a tarot card
the shaman…
& i say, “oh crap…this can’t be good.”
nope.
a time of isolation
of finding
thyself
no time for looking
outside
when i have
so much
work
to do
inside…
crap.

the next day, my oracle song was the femmes again…”add it up.” why why can’t i get just one fuck?
the universe wants me to keep it in my pants it seems–though i obviously have other desires.
of course the universe is right because i am way too easily distracted by even just potential–even just a hint–of a relationship.
today i got the kinks again.
“everybody’s gonna be happy.”
promises promises…
but i keep doing my work. getting stronger every day.

(i do have a lot more songs on my mix than just the femmes & the kinks…it’s just they keep turning up in the first song i play.)

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.

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….

dirty sponge

like a sponge
i have absorbed
every awful
thing
you have said
&
even some
you left
unsaid
like a sponge
dipped
in a dirty toilet
left
in a puddle
of
excrement
i am
clogged
saturated
suffocating
longing
longing
longing
to be wrung out
rinsed
& put in the sun
to dry.

trying to flesh out those severe feelings i was having as dusty dumped all his grief & abandonment issues on my lap.

burned at the stake…again

the messages come
incessantly
outlining
exactly
what a disappointment
i am
what a failure
i am
tying the ropes
building up the log pile
lighting the match
i am left
to twist & burn
& turn
to ashes
as he takes
every good feeling
i had
& throws it on
the fire
i can scream, “why?”
until
my throat is raw
but
he cannot hear me
& my pleas
go unanswered
“it just is,”
i finally tell myself.
“it just is.”

(true story. yup.)

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….

graduation

something
has shifted
inside me
i have
graduated
from loving you
i was sad
when it ended
again
between us
i was sad…
but the usual despair
never took me
instead
i was left feeling
lighter
calmer
feeling free
I have
graduated
from loving you
&
i can only hope
you have
graduated
from
loving me.

as you can see from the date on the page, i wrote this several days ago. since then i have gone through a whole rabbit hole of emotions. the ex attacked me relentlessly in text messages & did cause me a bit of despair.
today i find myself in full mourning of our relationship.
however, i feel that this post is still true. something has shifted. the era of moses & dusty has officially ended (though it will continue on the page.)

the narrative

it seems to me
that people need to believe
their own
narrative
so it’s not
that they aren’t
listening
to me
it’s that what i’m saying
does not fit
their narrative…
so
they hear me
but only so far
as it suits their story
anything else
turns to white
noise
&
misunderstandings….
maybe i can’t
change your narrative
but what happens
when i change
mine?

i think this is true of all areas of my life i am frustrated with. family relations, romantic relations, not conforming to the norm, being misunderstood over & over & over….
my story does not fit most people’s narrative.
hmmm….
i wonder how i can move forward with this understanding?
i do know, i need to work on changing my own narrative…especially the bit about being unloveable, not special, & not worth a fuck.
that story needs to change.

ps. i really like this illustration

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