my brain hurts (but my heart wants all the attention)

demented
deranged
like a mix tape
stuck on a loop
picking petals
off of flowers
loves me
loves me not
surely loves me
now
surely surely
at least a little?
how about now?
at least give me my heart
back
i’m surely sure
i need it
if i want to survive
this
demented
deranged
long ride on a
short
track
& please don’t
leave
me
alone
to figure out
the end
all on my
own.

in our ever-loving & slightly incestuous wordpress community, there is the inevitable inspiration via another blog.
after reading mike’s post about icarus, i was all like, crap–i haven’t done me as icarus yet.
so here you go.
i am the sun (look at me shine) that i fly too close to…but, my wings are not melting. goddammit, i am not falling. i am going to fly right into my own light. just you watch me.

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great gatsby!

okay chickadee
make a choice
drink whiskey
or
play around on
dating sites…
no more
swiping under the influence
for you
yes, lonely eats like a
velociraptor
at your heart
& every
one
could be
might be
the one
especially
after a couple of glasses
of whiskey
but
don’t waste you
don’t waste your creative
energy
on men who don’t even stop
to listen
to your magic…
so
drink your whiskey
alone
& write
& draw
& paint
your lonely
your beauty
your masterpiece of you.

happy new year, y’all. here’s me as a flapper with some side boob. let’s see if that holds you over until 2019.
this is about as close to having a new year’s resolution as i get.

(i’m not drinking alone; the fruit flies are dying for some whiskey.)

everyone’s heart breaks

everyone
has a broken
heart
mine is no
different than yours
though they are
worlds
apart
everyone
has a broken
heart
mine began breaking
before i could walk
baby hearts break
so easy
& mine kept breaking
i built stone walls
with
re-enforced concrete
but
i am still too quick
to lower
the drawbridge
letting you in
everyone
has a broken
heart
but that does not stop them
from trying
to break
mine.

smoke & ashes

i don’t think
my lonely
could get any
bigger
i mean
where would it go
even?
that much
lonely?
it would fill
a hot air balloon
& float it
to the moon
i wish
i could
send my lonely
to the moon
root it out of
its nest
in my
heart
burn it
in a bonfire
on a dark solstice night
turn my lonely
to smoke & ash
& wait for the light
to
return.

with big feelings come art journal pages. as i learn how to celebrate my brother instead of mourning him…the other pain rises to the surface. the pain of a broken heart.
a broken marriage.
a man who could not be the person i needed him to be and instead became a monster set on destroying me.
devouring
me.
the lonely is so large right now as i don’t know how i will ever find love again.
but my heart still wants to look.

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. 

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

seven hundred years

sometimes i feel 
like i have been alive
for seven hundred years
i barely
remember 
yesterday
so for all i know
i’ve been alive
forever
&
i wonder
if i’ll ever look back
on these days
of struggle
of isolation
from the comfort
of a soul mate’s 
embrace
look back
in wonder
& awe
how did i ever survive
such desolate
times
to feel peace 
in my heart
while remembering
a time when peace
was a fantasy.

this, and a few more pages to come, were written yesterday when i was feeling especially hopeless & suicidal. good times…. being a single mom with next to no support system. i need to tell y’all, do not try this at home.

strangely, once i accepted that there was nothing to hope for, i felt a bit calmer. that’s me. finding comfort in the concept that i will never find comfort. 

this page does not have my standard issue self-portrait…unless you consider that that is my soul flying under the full moon. 
owls symbolize being able to see what others cannot. i identify with the owl, though i assume everyone else can see what i see. 
which, i guess, is not the case.
so!
i make art.

i may have gotten a little carried away. i think i painted my words out.

color me lonely

if lonely is a color
surely it is black
wait
or gray
gray like that shirt
that makes me feel
institutionalized
not orange 
like my favorite
swanky 
sweater
if lonely is a sound
it has string
instruments
definitely
string instruments
maybe vocalizations
but
no words
if lonely is season
it is
late
fall
i know you would say
mid winter
but
late fall
is when everything
leaves.

INKtober twenty-first

leftover love
stuck
in the corners
of my
heart
like those spiders
living in my window panes
i just try to pretend
it is normal
accepted
and not really happening
leftover love
do i warm it up?
or let it stay cold
pushed to the back
of the fridge
growing
crusty.

a poem about my housekeeping skills…or lack thereof?

after another close call with sliding back into my dusty knickers…i wrote a letter/list of all the reasons i divorced him. quite an impressive list if one is impressed by a person’s ability to sabotage a relationship…anyhoo, the letter helped me to see more clearly & to remember why i am divorced.
i wrote it because i realized–amidst an argument over the phone after i told him that our getting back together was a bad idea–i realized he has never taken any blame in my divorcing him.
he presents it as: she divorced me; she is bad & deserving of my treating her like crap.
when, in fact, i had many many many reasons for divorcing him & gave him chance after chance after chance before divorcing him.
ack.
like he thinks i just flipped a coin & decided to turn all of our lives upside down??
seriously…it appears as if that is how he views my decision to divorce him.
so i wrote a list.
a long list.
which helped me, at least. and–hopefully–will help him accept his role in our relationship crashing & burning.

now i prepare for another long, cold winter–alone (you know, except for the four kids, four goats, two cats, a puppy, dozens of ducks, chickens, geese, a turkey named hamlet, & a ewe named elsa.) at least i know how to keep myself busy.

strangely, i do feel relieved to let go (again!) of hope for a dusty & me revival tour.

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