name with rage.
escape my mouth. The high-decibel sound
waves of my hostile screams slam into the
walls. I’m seething,
Remnants of Merlot in my mouth.
I’m one voice shouting.
But echo many others.
I fight for us all.
I’ve gone dark.
Could be my pants, shirt, socks, underwear or bra, but rest assured, dark will be somewhere on my body. As dark on my skin as dark as my insides.
It will remind me to get back to the emotions that were lost and fragmented. The good ones that shattered, and then scattered everywhere; becoming thin and almost non-existent. Seems odd, doesn’t it? To select gloom to inspire me after it tore me apart first. It’s my visual sticky note of what I let happen to me. It’s what I must do in order to go on. Otherwise, I don’t think I would.
Every emotion that came at me… shook me… HARD.
I’m scared being left with the impression of nothing being good, ever again.
“See the light in others, and treat them as that is all you see.”
Dr. Wayne Dyer
That’s hard when evil-like enters your world. Goodness evaporates around them. And they’ve infected your life, damaged it with their intrusion. Hard to turn away when it directly affects you. Difficult to recover from a gut punch to take a deep breath, to know what to do next.
But I must. We must.
I’m in mourning for the events that unfolded. My darkness is showing. I will view this as a rebuttal, and strength. Preparation for a fight.
I don’t think I will be kind.
It feels that way when I’ve been defeated. I’m angry, even furious.
But I will rise up from the darkness. We will.
“Men are every bit as sneaky and calculating and venomous as women are widely suspected to be.” Lili Loofbourow
“Did I do that? OH! I’m sorry, that was not my intention.”
“Ugh, I suck. Can you forgive me? “
Eyes of innocence before me for the 1000th time.
Him being purposefully confused to purposefully confuse me.
Slick like oil.
An engineered game well-played to my detriment.
I am maneuvered purposefully, skillfully.
Me still loving, trusting and believing.
Directed by his intention I question myself.
My judgment is slipping.
For the last time.
“It’s the only way I know how to love someone. If I bring a smile to someone’s face, I feel like I have shown them I love them. So, yes, I look to make her happy. Her happiness means the world to me.” And the therapist asked a question I could not answer then, “At what cost to you…?”
Giving that doesn’t take into account a woman’s desires, isn’t shared happiness.
It’s an obligation on her part to say thank you for a kindness without thought.
Each act showing a deliberate lack of understanding her soul.
Recognize retribution for your ignorance will cost you the relationship.
And it’s not her fault.
But there you’ll go, blaming her and all woman-kind.
My guard is up.
Feeling dark emotions now
because of your acts.
I’ve been on #9.
It was amazing. For awhile.
Was too young to know it might end badly.
Fooled by the soft and comfortable.
Got pushed off. Hard.
Too stupid on how to deal.
Fuck Cloud 9.
The landing was excruciating.
Likelihood of action, nil. I’m feeling
And unwilling. Wake up and smell the coffee!
Happen. I’m reluctant to indulge you.
Excerpt from “Love Needs To Be Real”
And those who have the most love to give
Will always see through this
Warm beautiful heart that radiates light
Will never be alone on a cold dark night.
You don’t see it, or feel it. You don’t get it.
The absence of romance tells you nothing.
No warm embrace, you don’t seem to miss it.
Intimacy barely existent, you don’t show any.
Nothing gnaws at you. Or does it?
I’m growling, screaming. Inside and out.
I’m indifferent… now.
The love died. It reeks sour.
You, the reason.
But maybe you never had it in you?