a sort of madness

my core is a wet
soggy
mess
a newspaper forgotten
in the rain
as
dreams bring me echoes
of a time when i could have
clung
to him
as if he were my port
in the storm
a time when i was still
capable
of adoration
when this man
could invoke
a sort of madness in me
that felt
so
so fucking
good.

isn’t it a mindfuck that dreams can do this? pull you back in time to a different reality that you hoped would never end? and yet it did
so you wake up with such a heavy sad heart….
dreams of dusty…but it could also be dreams of the one before him who had my heart. just two men really who can claim that “prize” despite my having been with
so many more than just two….
so i wonder…will i ever feel that sort of madness again?
& if i don’t…is that a bad thing…or a good one?

so empty

i’m so empty
there’s an echo
as my soul calls out
looking for its other
i’m so lost
i’m like e.t.
after he phoned home
& no one answered
i wonder
if i even deserve
the treasure i seek
is there any reason
i should find
a true love
when so many others
never do?

sometimes i really deplore myself for all the energy i spend on feeling sad & alone.
like i could be doing so many other things!
looking for life’s meaning (assuming it is not to find that so-called other half)…writing the great american novel…working on my comics…working on madness manor…letting my big brain be all it can be…finding a deeper significance to my existence….
but no
here i am sulking about being alone & lonely.
fuck me.

mate for life

i will never forget
his telling me
(his clear blue eyes
dimples so deep that
women gave him whatever
he asked)
“doves mate for life”
he told me
to explain why
when he shot one dove
he would make sure
to shoot the mate
as well
so it would not be heartbroken…
his one small
kindness.

ah yes, my kentucky redneck. a preview of my relationship with dusty. he was a breed of his own–just like dusty. a special kind of damaged brilliance.
i think of him every time i see a lonely dove perched on a telephone wire. not because he was my mate for life–but because of his telling me about making sure to end the suffering of any dove left without a mate. i never really knew how to feel about it.


i wrote this because there is a mourning dove that likes to perch on the telephone wire outside my office window. i often wonder if that dove is my one true love come to wait for me.

change is not death

“If you don’t release something voluntarily, it will cause you pain when it is snatched from you against your will.”

this card was driving me crazy because sometimes it feels like all i do is let things go.
what else can i let go of?
then i caught myself going to a dark
dark
place when i saw a friend’s loving post about his wife.
right? why should that cause me pain??
and that is when i realized what i needed to let go of
my fantasy that i had once had
true love
& had lost it through carelessness…
to stop being angry & depressed about losing something
that was never mine
to begin with.

i journaled about it over on my patreon page (more pages to come) & am trying to process it out.

i also have added a couple of more pages in my new series about being feral.

it’s my party i can obsess if i want to

steam rises from the fields
as spring rain
mixes with winter earth
& my heart turns
in circles
thinking of you
i can smell
the ground warming
preparing itself
for growth & green & everything
spring
& my heart turns
in circles
thinking of you
each day grows longer
a full moon wanes
to new
& my heart turns
in circles
thinking of you.

nothing like spring to fuck with one’s love hormones. i made this postcard to send to someone who has probably forgotten me, but it’s my party, i can obsess if i want to.
& i’m not obsessing, really, i just have to put those spring hormones somewhere…& i have no where else to put them. (i already quit okcupid again)
so what’s a harmless crush on someone? so what’s a harmless postcard just to say “hi”?
i know…famous last words….
but, after all, the dodo bird is my spirit animal.

i just got a phone call from my mom to let me know she will be selling the house out from under me.
i kinda saw this coming & was planning to leave anyway & there is no love lost between us…but fuck me my heart hurts right now.
she has no problem tossing out her single-mother daughter & her four grandchildren. at least she had the decency not to say “i love you” at the end of the conversation.
& she did call to let me know she would be selling the house instead of just doing it–my kids have been fearing that we will come home to another family living here….

meanwhile…
here are some glimpses of stuff going on on my patreon page….

more memoir

i wrote a little bit more on my memoir.
there is now a page eight and a page nine.
i wrote page nine (i had started but not finished page eight at the time) after waking up from a dream about him. the whole thing felt so delicious. you know those dreams.
and i looked in the mirror–and my hair (at least in my mind) was all like super sexy super model hair.
being one of those people who have few & far between “good hair days,” of course i took a picture.
my dream was so awesome, it gave me good hair.
that says something, right?

little me

crazy broken love

i did this picture by spilling ink
and looking for images
in the shadows & shades of the ink
i spilled this ink
to send another love note
to a person who doesn’t want me
but at least i’m making art
while i mope
and try to find my way.

meanwhile, i really need to do another page of moses jones. it’s time for that once-a-month page.
but my garden is weeded. my minions are fed. my ducks are laying. my bees are buzzing. life goes on.

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