‘Jessica was a worthy child’
‘but let Jessi take her place’
‘Make haste’
‘Lay waste’
‘For her death is why we’re here’
‘Burn her body’
‘Let it rust’
‘For Jessi is the king that we trust’
Tag Archives: LGBT
A blacked out sun
This is a plague,
A harmonious disease that spread. Invaded the deep crusted lungs that once saved.
It is easy, no really, to see how it may have led to this.
How the blacked sun with a burnt out ring lead to people fighting, and dying, and lying,
They did not try, or so we are told, to change the ways that their ancestors taught
But so covered in ash are we
We do not see that we too are diseased
Picking at scraps and scabs that bleed
The ones that turned our lungs to lead and spread
To unknown places that lay us dead
We fight for a time when the moon bleed gold
When the sun fell upon our shoulders on a once forgotten boat
But those times have come to an end. Twisted within the desserts wind
Our ancestors taught us well and well this wound has festered
Growing daily in blackened sun while they sing hymns of battles won.
I just want to be
Sinner with the broken wings
How is it that you still sing?
I sing for glory and holy light
I sing with passion to set all right
But when the devil comes to play
I sing with broken wings on display
For I am a sinner through and through
And it is through him that I get to you
Hi! I am queer. I have no safe space. There is no place that welcomes me. Yet, I am supposed to delude myself into thinking that there is. I know that I am not wanted but I have been told that it is better to think that there is.
I used to have someone I could talk to. A person who I felt like would always be there for me. Sure we would fight every once in awhile. I can not tell you the amount of times I told them I hated them. But I was raised in a home where family was supposed to mean everything. When your parents are gone you only have your cousins, your siblings, your aunts and uncle, to stand by your said. So for this person to betray me as they did hurts. It hurts so fucking bad because at one point there were my best friend.
See my coming out story was pretty bland. Which, I should be grateful that it ended up being that way seeing as others can not say the same. My mother was one of the first I told and she was super cool about it. Way to cool if we are being honest because she soon told me about all the girls friends she had while I was younger and would often ask for peoples numbers while we were out and about. Really, nothing screams “please kill me” moments like watching as your mother flirts with people of all genders anytime she walked out the house. So yes, my coming out was pretty bland.
I had some people who made my life hell but they really didn’t matter. My mother was ok with it. As was my siblings. But that soon changed. A few years back my sister discovered christ and what used to be ok was now one of the things that tore us apart. Now, she spends every moment she can sprouting bible verses and telling me I will go to hell. That I am an abusive mother because I surround my kid in such sinful teachings. She talks about race a lot as well. Blaming white people for all of our problems and how they need to eradicated. But I am the monster.
No one seems to care though. My mother, the women who made my coming out story so boring and uneventful is now constantly telling me that I need to forgive her. Because when she is gone my sister is all I will have left. But what my mother doesn’t understand is that I am used to being alone. I don’t need such toxic people in my life to make myself feel something anymore. So why should I forgive her?
If I am going to hell I rather it be because the love I chose to live with over the hate I would have should I hide.
Please don’t sue me
I have read a lot about domestic violence. In some cases I find myself blaming the victim and in others I can sympathize with them. I believe it is only human to lean one way or the other with hearing of such terrible things. Yet there is one thing that pisses me off. The idea that men can not be victims of abuse. Or if they are it is only those in same-sex relationships. This is because time and time again people respond to cases with a male victim that he is just weak. Men should be able to stand up to women. Cases where men do not mean that they are weak and deserve it. So what if they got raped, they should enjoy the free sex.
Right?
It is bothersome really…no that is not the correct word. I feel a much stronger emotion when faced with the people who believe in those things. Yes, male victims are statistically lower but they are still important. Men should be allowed to come forward without being ridiculed and hated…or envied. What is wrong with people that they envy such an encounter???
I have read a lot about domestic violence. I am human in the way I judge the situation. But no matter the reason I believe that everyone has the right to justice. Everyone has a right to be heard. Everyone has a right to seek freedom without…judgement.
Thanks for coming.
Side note: Stop shitting on LGBT couples people. Seriously I have read a crappy ton of books lately and why is it that every book I have read someone is leaving an abusive relationship. Find another reason to make people break up LGBT authors. Seriously. Can’t we have them break up over something mundane like not being in love anymore. Or just like idk maybe one of them had to move away for a job. Or hell kill one of them. In the last 30 books I have read with a romantic theme pretty much 70% of them had something to do with someone leaving an abusive relationship. Granted I am reading a series where everyone and they momma got a sob story but come on!! I read a lot about domestic violence, from real life stories to fictional ones. Sob stories are kind of my thing if you haven’t been able to tell.
Another Update cause I can
Welcome to the musing of an extremely petty poet.
I have had a lot of new followers and am actually starting to get a lot of repeats as well. Still not a lot of comments but I am ok with that. Just wanted to let everyone know, if you all haven’t noticed already, I am a terrible speller. And *spoiler alert* my grammar is even worse. So feel free to judge to your hearts content lol. I have had some people tell me that it is ok but it is something I struggle with and want to work on. I do not do it before I post my work but when I go back I like to edit a few things here and there. Change up a line or two to help it flow better. But if you see some mistake that doesn’t look intentional just comment and let me know. I will not get upset…ok I will get upset if said person only commenter just to tell me what I am doing wrong.
I am a single mom who struggles with BPD. I made this blog first to hone my writing skills but later on I wanted to show what it was like to live with a mental disorder. My poems and little story tell about my life and that of my daughter. Sometimes I can be angry, happy, sad, depression, excited and even, you guessed it, petty. I enjoy each and every person who takes the time to like and read my work. There is not a lot of information out there that paints people with BPD in a neutral light. Most information seeks to vilify us. Well I am here to tell ya that we are just as human as you are. We make mistakes and successes. My poems go a long way into proving that. Because some of my pieces are downright holy while others sound like the musing of a very edgy teen going through puberty. You get no in between with me really 🤣.
So I thank you and say welcome to all the new faces. I am sorry for the mess and look forward to learning from you all.
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.
A church of Echos
Why is no one listening to me
Screams the child in the church pew
Grandfathers hand down their top
And grandmothers over their mouth
Mom and dad standing at the opposite ends
Trying not to listen to the shouts
But that is not what gave the room pause
Over there sits a little boy with a gun in his lap
And rewards on his jacket
Drawing up a dagger and slicing into a peer
Color coded lettering screaming
Why is no one listening
But move the camera preacher man
Over there you’ll see
A girl squating over pill bottles chocking them down with ease
Shitting out insta likes
As the wolves paw at her feet
The shacking of the pills bottles gives a signal
As hands reach to spread her knees
Why is no one listening to me
Down the asle lies a bible
Covered in well wishes and kisses
Thumbs up with well intentions
It holds the congregations attention
As the preacher man walks by
with gleam in his eye
Giving twisted smile to the lost boys
And waving at the confused girls
Praising the mothers and fathers
Only to step past the blooded child
Healing vibes.
Share a story that has hurt you.
Something that ripped you to tiny piece and made it as though you didn’t not think you would survive.
Share that story, leave out no details, because I have a feeling this will help you heal.
Realize how much you have conqured.
The painful memories you can’t bear to hold.
Just let them go.
Share me a story if your deepest fear. Tell it all and leave out no details.
We need to see we are not alone.
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?
I forgot
Dedication to Nova, Fly with the stars you loved so much. If I am lucky we may one day meet again.
I forgot to be sad.
I forgot to cry.
I forgot to be mad.
Because I forgot why.
See a friend passed away two years ago but I forgot. Not her but the date that changed it all despite the fact that it still hits close to home and I remember her. Every fucking day I remember her.
But it is slowly fading.
Her smile
Her laugh
The voices she used to make
I remember but they are fading day by day.
So I wrote it on my calender so I could remember when to grieve. How long I should let myself cry and the hours that will have gone by.
Since I said my last goodbye.
Since I told her to be safe on her trip only for hours later she dies in a fucking car crash. She didn’t have a car and we joked about that. I made a comment about how when I was learning to drive I nearly ran over my moms foot cause I smash it when she said break.
We laughed
And reminisced
Made plans to get together and how we should talk more.
I made joke after joke about how we should talk more before ending it with
Have fun
Be safe!
To bad my words weren’t enough.
She told me she would but didn’t.
Whose to blame for this incompetence!
She was the same age as me you know. Life planned and precious goals.
I remembered the excited whispers to my daughter that next morning. Showing her pictures of a friend that was slowly dying.
No that is not right she was already dead and the plans I was so happy to tell my daughter would only come to completion in my head.
I wanted to reconnect with my friend.
But it is gone now because this year
I forgot to be sad
I forgot to cry
I forgot to be mad
Because I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.
NIGHTMARE FANTASY 