Theme Reveal

This year I will try to move away from my comfort zone. I tend to talk about some really depressing stuff so this years theme is Love.

Yep, you heard right.

I am going to focus in love and all the gooy lovely dovey I will never have ness that comes with it. No more depressing Jessi (unless the story calls for it) I am a whole new person this month.

What this means is that I will be both reviewing books and writing poems dealing with this topic. Some of the romance books won’t be just pure romance (I need that meaty plot) but I try to make it so every book I read main focus is on romance with other stuff more background. So bring on those devine sweat producing, hand fanning, hallelujah singing romance novels. I got my tea, my blanket, and my unicorn plushy ( property-of-daughter–with-extreme-caution-from-momma)

*Cue confused screaming*

And Scene

A session in therapy

I would rather be sleeping

Yet here I am, another day

Another hour

Trying to let her know that I have been weak

Rather not give her the chance to judge me

Quickly! Look at the clock

Hour is no where from up

But spread a word with prim and prose

Hope she doesn’t see the paper that I fold

And unfold

And fold

And unfold

A little hint of me

She is sitting here

Next to me

A tainted little girl with tainted little dreams

Clawing at her throat

Twisting away from me

Am I the reason she screams, am I the reason she bleeds?

Sitting here

Next to me

A broken little girl with broken little dreams

Clawing at her eyes

Begging me to leave

I bet I am the reason that she suffers still, the reason she can’t sleep.

But for the life of me

I can not bring myself to care

My head

I feel empty.

Not that isn’t right. I feel something but not the normal kind. As though my spirit is breaking, shattering, quaking in my body to the sounds of a dying heart.

I can feel it leaving.

Every breath I make wheezing and squeezing in my chest. My lungs crushed between broken bones and a dark place.

I can’t take it

Yet I am here faking, smiling, lying to the people I love. Waving from the side lines using pride to hide what I feel inside. Bursting from the seams I am coming undone

But here I am.

I don’t want to be but I am and I don’t know how to stop, let go, be free. I do not know how to me. The normal me. The real me. The thing that I can help but dream.

And it is to late

I want to give up but here I am. Decaying flesh and hopeless despair. Melting toa darken state. Smiling with out a care to hide my mistake.

Give and Take

I wanted her but I did not desire her. Maybe it was the way her head tilted when she smiled. Joy radiating from every pour just begging me to take hold. I used to dream about that smile and how it made me feel.

How It made me feel.

My heart racing with want for her. The need to take hold and possess her every being. I wished to never let go for fear that I would wake up and it would all be a dream. I guess in reality that is exactly what it was.

See, I did not desire her but I longed to control her. To feel her trembling as I splayed my hand across her chest. A finger dipping past her navel to that special place that made her quiver. I longed for it. Prayed for it. But I did not desire it.

I wonder if there was something wrong with me.

How could I, a healthy human being, not see all that she had to offer. An amazing body with a personality to match. She was the ideal being and yet I could only dream.

I often wonder what she truly thinks of me when she smiles, if she smiles still.

Does she also dream of me?

A Sudden Disinterest

I contemplated praying the other day when I saw my mother crying. An irresistible urge to comfort her in the only way she knows how. But I digested the feeling and found it lacking…something.

A certain flavor to give rise to my struggles. Not things I share with those flawed like me but something I quickly lust about to those others who believe. Others who are so far from me but still people I love.

I saw my mother crying and wanted to give comfort in the only way she knew how. Copy the posture beaten into me and speak past a jaw wired shut. But there was something wrong with this image. This debatable fiction layed out before me.

I tried to bring up the images of those I despise with such a passionate love that it can only be fate. Oh how I tried to push them away but when I needed them most they stood by. Watching my mother with regretful tears in her eyes. Me on my knees easing my hands on high!

But I distress with this taste in my mouth most foul and tamed. Struggling past the restraint to say amen.