Drinking Daiseys

I wonder if she can see the shadows

If they keep her up at night

I often think it is from my own doing

That I am the reason she feels such anger

It must be my fault

That she can’t seem to shut her eyes

Without whimpering out loud

Sometimes I think she can hear the whispers

Voices telling her it is ok to die

Creepy little people who just love to lie

It must be my fault

I can’t protect her from the pain

I wonder if she tastes ashes

Whenever she greets the sun

Does it drive her insane to stand outside

Feeling all of those eyes

Hearing those screams

Tasting things that will probably never be

I wonder if it is my fault

That she is drowning on her own

A Mothers Love

A baby bird with broken wings

Listen softly as mothers scream

She is distraught and filled with rage

Was forced to carry this vicious egg

Failure is what failure does

Something to which she can never love

Little bird with a broken wing

Such a pitiful and unwanted thing

Gives a whistle to hear sweet sounds

Mother hurries to the ground

Kicks up dirt

Rocks and

Leaves

She is filled with terrible things

But the little bird sees none of this

Moves its wing in for a kiss

A Hug

A gentle touch

All ignored

By the hateful bird

But baby bird does not notice

Filled to much with hope and purpose

Mother bird shudders and drops

Gives a tweet and then flies off

Impressions

I do not hear voices I hear impressions. Emotions without words. I can feel it all bubbling behind my eyes. I don’t see figures but I get the sense that someone is watching me. I can feel them follow me. I can there eyes and every blink they make is registered in my mind.

But no

I do not see or hear people. I never have but how do I explain what I do go through. How do I tell people about my pain? They will judge me harshly and think I am lying. They will take away my daughter and tell me that I am unfit to be her mother. How do I show them that she is the only person in this world I care for. That even as I am fading she is thriving. I give all my enegery to her. Yes, I am dying. Not in the way others may think but in a way that says my body is deteriorating along with my mind. The illness I suffer from is in my head…not in a way that makes it unreal but in a way that shows that it is unseen. I am dying slowly and she is the only thread keeping me intacted. Without her I will die all the sooner.

But how do I ask for help without the world trying to kill me faster?

Thieves cant

The language of a liar has always been good to me.

Recently I have discovered something about myself. I love Chaos…well…not really. I guess what I really love is the idea of chaos. I am the type of person who sits and thinks of all the dark and twisted things that go on in the world and wish it would happen to me.

I am the type to romanticize a kidnapping. When reading books I often wonder why no one falls in love with the villain. I mean sure he is evil but he isn’t evil to you.

There was a movie I watched many years ago where a guy kidnapped a girl and a women in hopes of turning them into a family. At the end they get away from him but I remember being 7 or 8years old and mad at them for doing that. All he wanted was a family. He took care of them. Sure he was a little angry and did some shady stuff but he never hurt them. They should have just stayed and listened.

As an adult I learned that this type of stuff is wrong but I am still drawn to those types of characters in books and movies.

But..when it comes to actual life, I try and stay away from people like that. I am still attracted to dominate people but there if a difference between that and just plain crazy. If a guy yells at me in anger it is over. I lose my shit and will yell at him back. I have been with some guys who liked having control and I don’t mind giving it. But I am truly submissive and will fight anything I do not agree with. I have broken up wirh people because of stupid, controling, and manipulative stuff they have tried to do.

So why in the world am I drawn to these types of stories? Why do I find myself angry with people who don’t stay with the obviously toxic people?

I honestly can’t answer this but it is something that has always bothered me.

I beg your pardon

Excuse me!

Yes You!

One who dares to take a glance with a decent hello.

I dare say I am offended

Because you never say a word

Just look around without a care

Not a word to those who sit here

As though we are invisible

Well screw you.

Well…Not really

I wouldn’t say that

But I would if I wanted to!

I mean…probably not.

I could never be that mean.

I beg your pardon for being obscene.

Just go on about your day

And ignore me

A Letter to the day

While going through an old notebook I found a letter I had written to my daughter. It was a true eye opener. In this letter I apologized to my daughter for taking my own life.

As you can see, I didn’t actually do that. I have a lot of letters like this in that notebook. Apology notes to my little girl who was maybe a year old at the time. Right now she is a happy four-year old. I still have these thoughts but not as much as I did back then. Nearly every week I wrote her a new letter asking for forgiveness. I think it is what helped me go on. I felt like I would disappoint her if I did it. Now I know I would devastate her. She loves me. She truly loves me for me. Something no one in this world does. She makes me happy.

 

 

The thoughts are still there but not as they were before.

But I know I can get on even with them in my mind. I know I may eventually heal. It will take time. These letters from my last have shown me this.

Say it with me

I like the words low self-esteem. That makes it seem like there is hope. That one day it can come back.

Now zero self-esteem, that is a different story. That means there is no chance of it coming back without some outside help.

But how can we go about life lacking it and expect others to help us. We are always being told that if we do not love ourselves then no one else will love us. So what if a person hates themselves with a passion, does that mean that they will always be alone?

I like to think that there is a chance they can be happy. It will just take someone from the outside to help them see the light.

She used to be hopeful

She used to try

She used to smile

Once upon a time

A bright future a head of her

But her head in the clouds

She used to be normal

Then she was found

In a backend ally

With her knees on the ground

Surrounded by people

But lost in the sound

She used to be everything

She used to be love

Now she is nothing

Someone we all judge

Needle in her arm

And hate in her heart

How did this happen

What tore her world apart?

She used to be helpful

She used to be wise

She used to be everything

In her loved ones eyes

But now she is found

Laying in the ground

Surrounded by people

But lost in the sound

Of her own imagination

Of her own mistakes

She used to full of life

And now she slowly breaks

Needle in her arms

Blood on her legs

Crawling on the ground

To get away from the people

That roughly surround

She wants to be lost

Stuck in her own sound

As long as you will have me

I figured this would happen but still I had hoped

I had prayed with all my soul that this will be ok

But yet again my prayers end in vain

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I have never felt this pain though I know of many who have. Today we sit in remembrance of those who have lost a small part of them. A child was taken without reason.

We bow our heads to the ground then lift them on high. We allow ourselves to cry for little ones we never got to meet, taken from us way to soon.

No parent should ever be forced to outlive their child. This is not the plan. We are supposed to be long dead before they join us.

See I have never felt such a pain. I have never had a miscarriage but I know many who have. I have never had a stillbirth, but I know many who have. And for those many that I know I cry for them.

I say to them that I am sorry for their loss. That I am there for them whenever they need me. I will not tell them that it was Gods plan. I will not tell them how they should be happy that they can even have kids. I will not lie tell them this sick twisted words.

Instead I will hold them close and tell them I love them.

Instead I will do my best to love them, to show them I love them, and help them the best I can as they heal.

For this is a pain that never goes away. It lingers near even when things seem ok. I will be there for them as long as they have me.

To all those who have lost a little one. Know that you are loved. Know that it isn’t your fault no matter the means. That you are cared for. Know that no one will ever forget the person who isn’t with us today. That we are with you. Know that no matter what I am with you.

The Liar in me

Eating a small childs candy shouldn’t make me feel like a monster…but it does. Especially if that child is my own. Most times then naught she will go lookong for said candy in hopes of having it for herself. There are times when I just tell her that she may have misplaced the candy or may have already eaten it.

Of course it is a lie but I do it every time. With Halloween coming around I start to fear for my sanity. Just how many pieces of chocolate will go missing?

How many now and laters will I consume before she starts to take notice?

Granted many of the candies I eat she is to young to have but when will it end???

I often have to remind myself that in only a few short years she will be able to go trick or treating without me. She will be able to count and control her hoard of sweets. I will be left out unless I do the right thing….be an adult and buy my own candy instead of stealing my daughters.

But what kind of parent would I be if I didn’t teach her not to share. At least that is what I am telling myself as I munch on her jawbreakers.