Nightmares

It leeches and bleeds

As I scratch with blunted nails found on top pillow.

They curve into my cheek to my head where nails can’t reach.

The wounded symphony of rust and blood

And red and lead

Tapping on the bones as I try to go to bed

It is testing me, a dream I can not see

As I roll with a grinded grin

And try to sleep again

Torch me 2017

First of all sorry for any and all errors you are about to see. It wasn’t my attention to offend. Truly, blame my middle and high school teachers. They are the ones who passed me with honors.

Hi, my name is Jessi. I am a 23-year-old single mom to one. My favorite all time hobbies are reading and writing. You wouldn’t know that though. Cause while I read peoples blogs I have the bad habit of not doing it faithfully. You may go weeks without hearing a thing from me only for one day get on and see a crap ton of likes and comments I have sent you.

Not really my fault, as my teachers used to say, I have the attention span of a dying flea. Something I probably shouldn’t be proud of but I am due to the fact that it was the only thing I remember him saying that year.

I can prove to you that I was well hated by him.

I am a mom. Not one of “those” moms, not see I am just a mom. I am the type who floats around knowing full well that I am making all the mistakes.

I hover and I smother. I cried over silly things and get mad over broken crayons. I am a mom. I do not write nom blogs pretending to be perfect. Not like there is anything wrong with that but it isn’t me. My daughter is my heart, soul, and reason to live. My she is not the reason I live.

I am religious though it doesn’t seem so. I guess I would identify as Christian even though I spent most of my life as Pagan.

I don’t follow a set path, I just love to learn. I like knowing trivial stuff. I wouldn’t say I am smart though, no, just more inclined to remember the stupid things in life.

I love music and to sing. But I can’t sing and my ability to remember lyrics is extremely lacking. Yet I passed every music class I have ever taken.

I was the kind of teen who took all the random classes and yet failed pretty much every required course there was. Mainly cause I was bored and rarely cause I just didn’t understand. Useless trivia remember?!

I am 23 years old. Not much to say about that. I mean I managed to accomplish the one thing everyone else reading this was…being born.
I am writing this because this past year has been eventful.
A full year of me sticking to with this blog. An actual year even though I made this nearly three years ago. I did it.
My goal was to reach 200 followers. I failed in that goal but came to find that the number of followers doesn’t matter if no one is willing to commit to say if they liked or disliked something. If they are not willing to review then what is the point to it all? Basically preaching to an empty classroom.

So followers no longer matter. I still love it when I get one though. I love it even more when they stop by to tell me how they feel. It makes me happy when people express their reactions to me.
So that goal wasn’t met but that’s ok. Live and let learn right!

My newest goal is to keep writing. To live for me. To write what I want to write and not what others feel is best. I write trauma. I make people sad and I break their hearts. I force them to think. Sure it hurts but it opens minds and lets eyes see.
This year I will be me.

Bless me

I say words I don’t mean

I hold on to things that no longer bring me joy

I try to taste the past out of reach

Saying

Holding

Tasting

Better days.

Bless me cause I can’t breathe

Keep striving for different things

But matter will never change

Bless me and hope for better days.

I love to write but it doesn’t mean that it is always going to sound good.

Not everything I write will win a reward. Some things will be damn near cringe worthy. Still…I write.

I write because it brings me joy. I write because it is the one gift I have to pass on to my baby girl.

I write to make you think and feel.

I write because it is the only way to show I am here.

Pass

Passionate surprise
There is danger in her eyes
Come clean upon the slate
Dying is her fate
She slips into a dream
And starts to demands once remembering

She isn’t suppose to feel
But the dreams make it real
Danger in her eyes
Addicted to her lies
Dying is her only choice
Yet if you listen to her timid voice
You will find
Something sane and yet not so nice.

I like and hate this
But these are my mistakes to bear
Silly how I once believed
That you would always be there
I write to make dreams come true
I write to get over you
I write to protect
To grow
To show
I write because it is the only thing I know.