I have no idea where I was going with this but here-

I must wear it like a chain around my neck


A bloody weight specially made of gossamer wings and naivety


For a split second I can see it
A tiny throne for a tiny king


Strong,

holding me upon a dirty bed


Strangers walk by with their stilted lies
throwing their red paint and holy words


A christening by those who curse


It must be hanging like a noose
This tightly woven cradle where tiny kings,
With tiny wings can slumber


For a split second I can feel it


(Tantalizing fingers glimmer, gently brushing remembering the need)


Remembering the greed
It didn’t take that long to bleed


As they tugged and pulled away my flesh
Cutting into my skin like a second dress


I remember it so clearly


Maybe that is why I wear it around my neck
This bloody weight specially made of
Gossamer wings and tenacity


Such a tiny throne for a unwanted king

house on the end

a blackened hole with a twisted tongue

unhinged and jaded by a lie not won

i turn to whisper at a page

i turn to shudder at the pain

because there are stories not yet spilt

on this dangerous land we have not built

ancestors screaming in distress

for they have started to fear their rest

i am nothing though filled with dread

with writhing maggot living in my head

a blackened hole and twisted tongue

ancestors voicing lies not yet won

only to turn another whispered page

and gratify myself with its rage

this is a story not yet spilt

of a cursed home i am to scared to see built

A/N Normally I do not talk about the inspiration for my post but this one I had to include. This poem came to me while looking at one of my friends creations. They had sewed together a bag that I just absolutely adore. Being able to see every step they took to making it. The energy, the heart, the literal blood at times, made me appreciate those who craft with their hands even more. Now, I am not gifted as they are, and even though I found some inspiration in what they had made, I had to show it another way. This is my creation and I am forever grateful for the support my friend has given me.

In return I am sharing Laurens work. If you like this poem please take a look at their Etsy page. They make custom work and are more than willing to work with people to get them that desire. Most, if not everything, is one of a kind. So if you like standing out and being unique, give it a go, if not, still leave them some love!! They will surely appreciate it.

And Yes, this earring combo is on sale!

waiting

i have many regrets.

but there are many acts i can not expand upon. so long have i dreamed with an imagination so queer. that which beckons the regret i fear. pushing them closer. ever closer and gearing towards my heart. with broken parts and bobbled things. a regret is only a shallow thing.

i have many regrets.

yet no respect from the past can save me. behaving i will as i do what i feel is best. but i guess that this part of me that i put to rest. this part i buried so cleanly could have never have stayed away. i digress as i throw on a torn dress and prance around as if my heart is not on the ground about to explode. caught up in something i had forgotten. not turned black and rotten. so dehearted cause my heart has rottened. and yet.

i have many regrets.

left soaking in my views. but i live on just a little bit each day. dragging a blacken heart with bobbled parts through the once clean sound of graves. oh how i have behaved. i can see it now. within this queer dream that the tiger sings so sweetly about. i can see it

100 Pennies for your thoughts.

It pays to feel dead inside.

I think a specialist should be called. Because I am no longer afraid of dying. There must be something wrong with me because I can’t seem to breath. Feeling is a hassle. A tiny curse that floats with dreaded smoke to fill the air. It stares without a care. I hold my phone near and call up every doctor in the region. Stick a note to my chest to see if they can hear me. I think the specialist is to weak. They meekly shake their heads at me while sticking me with pins. The curse is floating in my ears. They stare for they fear that I will attack but I can’t. But I won’t. I just grab my curse and run. I think there is something wrong with me. I can’t not bring myself to care if I am alive or trult dead and I think this fact is very sad.

Perfected

School is almost over for me. Got one more semester to go before I get my AS and go off to a four year college for a BA. I still have dreams to get a degree in Philosophy but I just can’t seem to make up my mind about what else I want to go for. I am trying to decide between Psychology and Sociology. I know I want to help people in any way that I can but with my issues I am not sure how to go about doing that. Either way, here is to another semester!

As for other updates. My little one is on her way to Kindergarten. I should be excited…but I am not. I am scared because I do not know what to expect in the world. A part of me wants to just wrap her up into a bubble. But I can’t do that to her. I do not know how other parents do it. How they can be so trusting and hopeful. I hate how terrible I feel because I want a normal life for her. She deserves so much good in this world and I am just not it.

Parenting a child as a person with mental illness is hard. I like to think that it is worth it. That she will grow up to be a well adjusted adult. But the risk…I do not know if I am worth it.

Believing in me

I think I am done, but I am not sure how to be. I wasted so much time trying that giving up almost seems like a relief. Still, something is holding me back. I think it has something to do with my memories. Nothing in my past, but current events that haunt me. Preventing me from taking that final step.

I think I am done, but I am not sure how to believe. There is a small part of me that feels something close to relief. As though a big weight has been removed from my shoulders. I can breathe so easily and yet…those final steps are still out of reach.