the slickness of my tongue in youth
divulged my immaturity
when speaking untruths to get my way
at the liquor store
with a fake id
batting eyelashes for rum
at school
with drama-filled explanations
of why homework wasn’t turned in
at home
the walls cringing with angst
from screams between generations
at parties
braggadocious and vain
impressing the girls and boys for attention
as a fledgling human
i excelled in drama
yet aging now prefers that the lies come to an end
with grief our ancestors sigh
their wants poke through a small crevice in time
and like salt to a wound
the descendants take the old to the edge
with their newer knowledge
the youth lifted imposed blinders
they put on their tough coat of skin
and created their field of dreams
the depths of which were endless
the utterances and murmuring of the past
comes from ancient bruises
that this generation wants no part of
Self-repair is an arduous task, isn’t it?
I hope for a change as I age
lost in my hopes I’ve given all control
to randomness of life and people I don’t like
I could claim it now
it’s true that we have the power to change our lives
but I feel so weak and I don’t know how….
The Heat of Chaos by Fire & Female
I am not okay.
I am a total mess
back on the floor of
a home that has been
drenched in lighter fluid
and intentionally set on fire.
The walls are hot with flame,
the linoleum is melting under me,
but I remain curled up on the floor.
I want to cry out from the pain
as my skin is singed with
empty promises and
violent threats and
touch I did not authorize,
but the heat of chaos dries my eyes
and tells me I cannot cry here.
I watch as my safe space disintegrates,
crying out for someone to just
come and fucking rescue me.
I am not okay.
I am suffocating under the weight of
beams of complex trauma and
posts of vicious assault and
cement blocks of violation.
My voice is too tiny to hear,
or maybe no one fucking cares,
so I curl up tighter in my place,
allow the inferno to engulf me;
a reminder no matter how hard
I try to extinguish the fire,
I will always go up in flames.
Pain buckles your inner state making recovery incredibly difficult. With every last bit of strength you have, choose to heal instead. Live again.
My thoughts
get stuck
in a thick tar swamp
knowing
that I am drowning
further below
but not quite
the end
Struggling is useless
Letting go is impossible
Tangled in poison syrup
In pitch dark night sky
all the stars
give up on me
They blink out
So
I settle in
being lost
dying alive
alone
Fracture, Fill by Tom Alexander
Break it like a bone
let it jut from torn skin
it’ll be raw and sore
then snap it back in
Fracture, fill
repair and grow
Through the ache
the growth seems subtle
Once it’s healed
that muscle gets supple
Fracture, fill
repair and grow
You can’t guess the extent
to which you’re capable
without some months spent
feeling utterly breakable
Fracture, fill
repair and grow…
extending beyond
leaving mother’s milk behind
independent now
i ask myself bigger questions
as i near my end
trying to predict what will remain into eternity
will i leave a legacy of uniqueness
perhaps inciting social awareness
or just gracing this world with beauty
my hope is positive contributions linger on
being touchstones for future greats
through impact, influence, and inspiration
for i know my aspiration
shaping dysfunction into being unimpaired
has to mean something
As a family, our country is a winning team, passing on what we owe to our future. When we actively choose to seek progress for the cities and the rural lands, it is for the good of our soul and others’ lives. Let us become the compassionate ones, the kinder ones. Let us choose to foster growth—giving back power to those deserving of it. May an act or two or ten thousand of kindness and justice bring joy and betterment to those who require it and who have earned it from the suffering endured.
May we all feel at peace.
Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #45, VJ’s Weekly Challenge #111 – Stuff Happens, &
Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Tree of Life
stuff happens
growth happens
uniqueness emerges
individual beauty surfaces
propelled like air balloons
upwards towards greater heights
with our villages of unique
but like-minded friends
the tree of life guides us
we grow stronger
seeking greater knowledge and wisdom
new experiences enlighten us further
#Whatdoyousee
a life begins vibrantly strong and new
subtle change on its journey
until it can no more
your birth, the prelude
to this one great life
foisted into beginning
what so many have done before
family nurtured you, or not
this start fostered your methods
of being in this world
success and failure were in your hands
decisions layered upon decisions
the best you could do, or the worst
chance predicts much of the outcome
and still, you carry on
you reap what you can
others benefit too
glory in the good days
paybacks for your pain
wisdom in the aftermath of living
lessens the evil
from gaining a foothold
in your soul
it’s still a hard road
many leave weak and broken
the lucky ones die
with a smile
they say hell ends when you’re dead
I Write Her 