HastyWords's Blog, page 10

VINES

The vine grows

Never straight

Focus shifts

Destiny calls

Flowers bloom

And then wilt

Twisting

And growing

As vines do

Caring not

Where the sun

Where the air

Where the water

Where the nutrients

Come from

They just grow

Until that something

For which they don’t care

Disappears

And then that vine

Has to care

Or it won’t survive

LOVE BIRDS

I was a blank spirit

Depleted and forsaken

Walking over tiny twigs

Snap snap snap crack

Cotton hung from the sky

Like little gauzy curtains

Billowing in front of me

And the breeze was a ghost

Stripping flowers from trees

These things I noticed

Somehow I knew

These things would save me

But still I walked

Without passion or purpose

Until one day the sun rose

And a beautiful bird

Began to sing his song

His voice filled my heart

It told me to gather the twigs

The cotton and the flowers

And he taught me

To build a nest

I could finally rest in

To finally feel safe in

To feel loved in

NOTE:

I built a world once. Brick by brick. Moment by moment. So many tears meticulously working toward my future.

Then it took 7 days and 7 nights…7 years to pull it all down. And I was broken. And tired. And done.

And you can say what you want about how we have to save ourselves. That nobody has the power to save us. But I was saved. We were saved.

He gave me space in his heart. He let me build a nest there. I feel safe there. And once again I’ve learned to fly.

SELF LOVE LIVES IN AN ORCHARD

The song had words

Only I could hear

They passed by

Crumbling corridors

And floated

Over cracked linoleum

Drifted through

Burnt up rafters

And settled

In the distant trees

Beautifully loving words

Spoken with my voice

Just perched

Far beyond reach

And I am lonely

Knowing my self love

Lives in an orchard

READY TO LISTEN

There is a kind of knowing

That lives in your heart

It has no form or shape

It has no empirical data

It’s abstract action

An emotional drawing

That takes residence

Like a cockroach

Drunk on absinthe

A horrible knowledge

You know exists

But your brain

It’s a coward

Not as brave as your heart

So you nail the door closed

And hide in the dark

Hoping you’re wrong

But… your heart

Has proven itself

Time and time again

So you get dressed

Put on one of your smiles

And answer the door

Ready to hear

What your heart

Has been trying to say

NOTE:

I remember a time I knew a truth that hadn’t been told. I tried to change the truth but it persisted and one night I confronted it and asked the person to tell me the truth. And though I knew what was coming I was devastated. My heart knew but my brain wasn’t so sure. I listen to my heart now. It’s smart. It has a lot to say.

THE VILLAIN MAKER

What I’d like to tell you

Will never pass my lips

My words mean too much

To end up changed, twisted

Because that’s what you do

Turn hankies into birds

And people clap and cheer

Then they point and jeer

When you tell them

I’m the one, the horrible one

Turning birds into hankies

When the truth is

I was once one of the birds

You turned into a villain

NOTE: I had a friendship that turned toxic. He loved to play the hero.

He watched me and got to know all my secrets, triggers, worries, and fears. He knew when and how to push my buttons and then when I cried and removed myself he’d tell everyone he would take care of me.

He knew exactly what to say. And how to say it. As long as everyone believed I was the broken one then nobody could see how broken he was.

DRYING BLOOD

Desiccation cracks, dry

Weary and deep, dark

Fill with blood, rust

Swollen windows, running

It’s raining again, bloody

A pile of razors, tears

As pain fades, into

Drying sad skin, jagged

Small little roadmaps, fissures

Self damaged, eroding

NOTE: I have been known in the past to self harm. It wasn’t often and only when the pain of depression felt unbearable. I remember laying in bed crying and pleading with my brain to just go to sleep. Trying to convince myself tomorrow would be better.

I got up to rally my spirit and wash my face and I accidentally broke a small glass tray. Normally, self harm for me was never a compulsion it was an opportunity that presented itself. Like the flat iron was already hot and waiting, I have to reach in and pull cookies out of a hot oven, or I just broke a glass item.

I picked up the glass and scratched it across my arm. It felt good. It was distracting the pain in my head. Again, just a scratch deep enough to spring tiny little drops of blood to the surface. A little harder. Not a wound, just a scratch but enough that blood slowly flowed into the cracks of my dry skin. I feel asleep wondering at that.

It’s completely NOT how one should deal with pain. I’ve learned better ways. But I had to understand why I did it in order to deal differently.

I think maybe self harm can become an addiction if one doesn’t get help. If you cope or self sooth that way I hope you talk to someone and find a better way that nurtures instead of harms you.

MALCONTENT GHOSTS

Sitting on a wire

Surrounded

By a murder

Without intent

Just space

Restless

Above malcontent

Ghosts

Wearing flesh

Pretending

At purpose

But failing

Inside

Their own

Distractions

NOTE: I am noticing how my brain slips easily into distraction when I’m about to experience a depressive episode. It’s as if I’m being prepared for the experience.

Depression isolates you from beauty and love. It’s solitary. It’s selfish. It’s a wonder we survive when the walls go up, the lights go out, and we are left with only its cruel voice.

I’m trying to be more mindful so I can choose beauty and light over the dark swallowing of distraction.

IT’S NOT TOO LATE

Twisted shadows

Stain her eyes

Feet buried

In a satin hole

Hands doing shots

Of numbness

Rusting guts

No more triggers

No more tears

No more fixes

Night falls

A gauzy blur

As eyelids

Fall shut

To glimmers

Of light

Sprouting

As if rooted

In glitter

A reminder

You hold a life

To not fuck it up

It’s not too late

To wake up

And try yet again

NOTE:

I know from experience what life feels like when we start to cope in harmful ways. When we want to escape and jump on the merry go round of self destruction and self sabotage. Part of us really wants to fight but each time we escape that part gets weaker and weaker.

I’m lucky I was able to get help before it was too late. I get good sleep. I got sober. I learned better ways to communicate. Feed the fighter inside you.

NATURAL PREDATORS

The forest is full of predators

Majestic feathers or soft fur

Brutal hunters underneath

A chorus of sweet bird songs

Escaping from piercing beaks

Colorful patterns that play and hide

Just waiting with their toxins

To protect, paralyze, or kill

Humans are scary beautiful too

Men are the apparent hunters

Some are natural protectors

And many are very obviously both

While woman were relegated

To the protective caretaker roles

Like elephants or otters

Fierce in their own right

Protecting family above all

Some women though are thieves

They have a dance they do

Subtle predatory moves they make

Hunting what isn’t theirs

Like a Mongoose they will start a war

Just to shack up before scurrying away

The best ones neutralize other females

Befriending them, distracting them

With compliments and friendship

Their weapons are lies and deception

In a way it’s all just nature

We can chose who and how to hunt

And who and how we protect

A STORY

Don’t think

Walk slow

Stay steady

Focus on steps

Close off sound

Close off smell

Shallow breath

Step into shower

It’s cold

Sharp inhale

Shock

Water warms

Wash hair

Wash body

Then cry

Cry harder

Feel your body

Shaking

Breaking

Washing down drain…

No…

Stop thinking

Feel the water

Stand until

It grows cold again

Step out

Find towel

Dry skin

Dry hair

Brush teeth

Focus on steps

Slide under covers

Cry self to sleep

Wash the poison

From your pillow

Tomorrow

NOTE:

I think the only way I survived my worst days of depression was to shut as much of my internal self down as I could manage. Imagine a machine overheating and what you have to do to cool it down. That’s how I feel when emotions get too intense. My system begins to overheat and melt down.

Shut out the world and do the steps you have to do to survive. Sometimes my brain won’t allow me to shut it down but my body knows the steps now. Breath, shower, cry, sleep. Play the next day by ear.