Sorrow

There are nights 

I gaze into Sorrow's eyes 

So deeply and wholly

I don't remember my name

She sings lullabies 

Ones that keep me awake

As She wipes tears

Off my colorless cheeks

She tells me tales

Ones of loss

And love so fiery

It burned holes 

Through the very foundation 

It laid upon 

Metaphysical

Realities packed neatly in white lined boxes
I am the nomad
Traveling between
Among

Within
Within feels uncertain
Foreign

Like the day I stared into
your hollowed eyes
And did not see you
Anymore

Void

Fill fill fill
All these terrorizing fucking holes
With something, anything
Someone

Fill
Fill before it returns
Before you're back on the floor
Watching crimson droplets
Dry on your limbs

Fill
Before rocks look like waves and you lose track of the days and your mind's a fucking maze




Fill.
Before you've acquainted with the pain
Before colonies of tablets in your palm
Seem as inviting
As a serenade

Evening Primrose

There's something beautiful in this mind
Something whimsical, peculiar, blind
It stumbles in the streets
Darkness it hides behind

Just for this moment

I'm on a constant journey of self discovery, self improvement, and most of all familiarity with my very self. My goal is to always be as raw as possible in hopes of reaching someone else in whatever way that might be, but also to just continue to get real with myself and document it so I am responsible for it and can continue to move in the direction I am choosing to go.

I have in the past, and still do very much so, kept myself distant from what's inside of me... Seeing as how it kind of feels like a black hole and a tornado mixed together and I really have no idea what's inside nor do I want to find out. (goodness I love run on sentences...)

I keep myself connected to other people, or to the Internet, or bury myself in work, or completely dissociate and forget that I'm a human living a life.

What's happened is I've made it very easy to lose touch with myself. Because I haven't really created much of a relationship between me and me, I find it's pretty easy to be pulled in a lot of directions at once, trying to kind of create my map as I go and navigate vicariously through shoulds and what I think others want.

When I stray away from my self; when I don't know myself, I am ashamed. I feel I am far too much to deal with. I feel worthless and useless and vile. I fear I am not worth fighting for. I fear I lack depth, meaning, quality.

The truth is I am, in its entirety, a person filled to the brim with deep, deep emotion and passion. I desire strong connection and good conversation, learning and growing. I love the world. I love the sky and space. I am as loyal as they come. I love animals and beautiful words and art. I would go to the ends of the earth for those I care about. I am absolutely outrageous and impulsive at times, and steady and quiet at other times. I am 100 things at once. I absolutely love being unique and strange and multi faceted. I truly, now, after so much time, believe I have the world at my fingertips if I use what I have in me. I have seen myself lower than low and I have fought my way out. I am still fighting. I have truly conquered amazing feats.

My mental illnesses and their accompanying struggles have shaped the entire path of my life thus far. But I am also a person. I am living and breathing and loving and taking this one step at a time. I know this now to be true, therefore I need for no one else to validate me. I know this to be true, therefore I am connected to my self.

Sunday afternoon coffee

Hands bleeding
Holding on too tightly
To the fear
That creeps in
During the darkest hours of night

Fear
Of the crippling cracking pain
That resides in my chest
Each time someone
Takes pieces of me with them

Fear
That I am far too much
And not enough
And I will not stop
Bleeding

March 16

They say be comfortable in your skin

As if I know whose skin this is

As if I know something but the crawling sensation 

Something desperate to escape 

Where is the comfort in the lingering dull roar of pain

Begging to be bled out 

That dwells deep inside

This skin

That I'm supposed to be comfortable in 

It

I find myself
Seeing in color
Feeling warmth on my skin
And I think maybe this is really it
This time

Inevitably it grabs me
Like it has
Like it does
And it pulls me under
Like it does
Like it will