Sleeping awake, choking on a dream. Listening loudly to a silent scream. Her mind is a mess. Chaos at best. Everyone else is the ball and she is the wreck. Addicted but gifted, bad choices, good intentions. Her beauty is inspiring but her self-steem is trippin. Like quicksand I’m sinking, someone please pull me out. I’m drowning in my own dried up spout. What do you see when you look at me? Don’t cover my scars,let them bleed. Sick and Twisted yet beautiful as a willow tree.

wifi’s off,
sun beats again the brow,
little embers dancing on your forehead,

“do you want to?”
you know i want to
“i want to”
i know you want to,
come then,
devour my body,

you make me hate myself,
love so strong it’s like i’ve never been love before,
i know what hurts you,
i know what he did,
i hear the pain hidden in your voice,
but i can’t apologise for something i never did,
i can’t be sorry that i remind you of him,
i can’t apologise that you see him in my face,
and it hurts you.
i know it hurts you,
i’ll never hurt you,
so i have to go.

give me the blade,
i’ll go the the river,
i’ll take away your pain,
i’ll take it from my body,
numb to texture of your skin against mine,
like nails on a chalkboard,
heart lost under frozen,
u give your your tears,
you give your suffering,
i give my tears,
i give my innocence,
do you feel safe here,

i don’t know why you still wanted me,
i don’t know why when i turned around to meet your tug there was nothing there,
gone without trace as if it never happened,
do you feel safe with me?
is that why you gave me hurt in exchange for love,
then acted like it never happened?

i don’t remember your name,
i’ll never forget your face,
i wake in a pool of sweat in blood from manifesting nightmares into something i can feel,
something i can chase,
something i can touch,
i wonder if that touch reminds you of me,
every time i go to the river i remember the feeling of you,
i miss it more than it deserves,
and i’ll never let myself forget the sensation you are

Botox

It’s a new century.
Everyone has lips stretching to their ears,
cheekbones with a fine line razored on.
Waists suctioned by a vacuum.
It’s a new century.
A century where anyone can look like anything.
The doctor will plump your chest,
a surgery to define your stomach,
will make you feel more confident, your best!
Botox.
A face with permanent perfection.
No blemish,
an unwavering portrait.
I was never unaware of the fake identity of this world,
or of myself.
I never went to a doctor,
yet my face holds an everlasting smile.
A grin stretching from my lips to my ears,
I laugh when I am supposed to,
I look like a perfect image.
One with the crowd.
Maybe better than the crowd,
because that’s what you wanted.
No one likes ugly.
No one likes blemishes, acne, and cellulite,
so I wore none.
My tears were suctioned up,
my makeup never stained.
My smile,
wide as ever.
My eyes,
If you looked close enough, you could see the void.
A small sacrifice.
To be perfect.
Unblemished.
To you.
To this world.
Broken,
is not beautiful.
A crack in the facade,
a slight inconsistency,
give me the injection.
Hold my face tight,
bare my teeth,
I smile.
I smile so wide.
For you.
I am not broken,
I am a picture of perfection.
A tear may slip,
I take another injection.
Tighter.
Clenching my teeth.
I smile,
I laugh,
Flawless.
Consistent.
Safe.
Beautiful.
It’s a new Century.
We can look like anything we want to be,
and I can look like anything you want me to be.

Life is all about taking a risk. It’s not too late
just a game to play. Not about what you have done. I have no choice but to behave like one too many gets taxed. I break the rules and find my way in the abyss.

I’m a rebel trying to live free. Rebel against the norm, live your life unapologetically true. I’m breaking free rewriting my future. Take a chance and believe in me. I won’t let you down this time. Try to believe in yourself to see the next day. And believe that there’s nobody to blame but you and yourself. You can’t blame it on the lost of a loved one where gambling was used as an escape outlet. No more making excuses. There’s no one left to hide what’s hidden from yourself. Unleash the fire in my heart. Begin anew with a fresh start.

Days fly by in the blink of an eye it will crush you in a blink of an eye. Open our eyes and see the light. I shine like a star, the perfect version of myself. Change is about giving up old patterns and habits. Letting go an old version of yourself. Cause sometimes things fall away and some days are here you don’t ever have to think that. There’s no need to be afraid. If you want to live your life you gotta make a change and make moves. It’s time to make a plan to turn yourself into the path. You can’t change your past. Wake up from your slumber slowly and realize you can’t go back again.

Leave the doubts behind, rewrite your future and blast. Feed the value of your life hear the questions you have. No more living in the fast lane with late nights it’s time to get things right. You were never alone so you need to be where you belong. The old days and late nights can only last so long and soon you can’t let go. And if you think that change might come and settle down it won’t last. It’s a long way to heaven. Embrace the unknown, let your dreams fly unmasked. So, when it’s over don’t hesitate to take a risk. Reflect back on the choices made. Find the strength to come out of this. I don’t shame the words I used to think didn’t happen that expired no one cracked. Break the chains of conformity.

I grew up in a world where you were to be seen, but not heard.

I grew up in a world of “do as I say, not as I do”.

I grew up in a world where it was unacceptable to cry lest you be ostracized for being weak or girlish. Unless, of course, you were being beaten, as crying was encouraged.

I grew up in a world where blue is for boys and pink is for girls, or everything is either black or white. There is no color spectrum in between.

I grew up in a world where presenting habits, preferences, mannerisms, speech, and style that is not in line with masculine stereotypes meant you are less than a man.

I grew up in a world of preselected choices and rejection of uniqueness. Rebellion was disrespect. How dare I be different?

I grew up in a world where you could be a doctor, a lawyer, an accountant, an engineer, or a banker. You could not choose to be an artist or a musician…those were hobbies, not careers.

I grew up in a world of obligations and not choice.

I grew up in a world where I learned to survive by hiding in plain sight though conformance, silence, and camouflage.

I was not of that world, but I complied and conformed to avoid the shame and stigma of being different.

I grew up cold.

And one day I realized I escaped that world physically, but never mentally.

How could I unlearn survival? How would I shed the things that protected and kept me safe all those hidden years.

How would I drown out shame when it has the loudest voice in my head? How could I escape the prison of my mind?

How could any small, tenuous steps of liberation become a full hearted sprint toward happiness when I am weighted down by so much baggage? When would the wings of freedom sprout strong enough to carry me away?

And thus time passed as I struggled to unlearn my upbringing. I tried to suppress these teaching while raising my own children. I succeeded in some ways and failed in many others.

I now grow old knowing that what I was taught is as wrong today as it was back then.

I now grow old allowing myself to be the person I always was, from the beginning.

I now grow old and have to account to no one but myself and those I love.

I now grow old learning to forgive myself and to humbly ask for forgiveness from those I have hurt.

I now grow old understanding that to fully demonstrate love to others, I must first have learned to love and accept myself.

I now grow old endeavoring to live a better, more authentic life.

I now grow old realizing I have been reborn as my true self, loving art and music, being gentle and caring, crying when I want to cry, wearing what I want to wear, loving black and white and all the colors in between, and understanding that being different is not something to be hidden or ashamed of…

And this alone has warmed my once young, cold heart.❤️

No pain, no gain

Still holds true

For biceps and exes

To name just a few

How does it feel

When pain leaves the heart?

A weight off your shoulders,

A race ‘bout to start?

But pain is evidence of life

And why should you be spared?

I know it’s easier to go numb

Than feeling lonely, feeling scared

But let pain come and let it go

For only growth comes after

And transformation can begin

When bitter tears turn into laughter

I walk into a room with eyes open wide
The seen that I saw was shocking and wild
The feeling I had was instantly hushed
Because I saw myself killed by 1000 little cuts

Helpless and scared, I took it all in
Speechless at what I was seeing.
Inside of the room, what I saw
was the murder of the child inside me

1000 little cuts made meticulously
By the evil powers that be
Left nothing to chance, they did everything
To ensure that my death was complete

Not really sure which blow ended it all
But I’m sure there was no reviving
That’s why when people ask
I can never tell them what’s wrong with me

I don’t know.

Is it anxiety?
Is it depression?
Is it autism?
or low self esteem
It could be just one or several of them
It could be all of those things

Then again it could be none
Maybe it’s all in my head
Or In my stomach
Maybe my legs
It’s definitely in my chest

Because I can’t breath
My lungs don’t work
Anytime I’m filled with dread

The fear in my stomach
When strangers approach
The chill that runs down my neck

The pain in my shoulders
Was really intense
When he didn’t love me back
The feeling of lonely that toys with me
Leaves tightness in my lower back

The way my vision fades so fast
When the anger gets up inside me
My knees buckle weak
And I can’t walk
And my body won’t stop shaking

Where does it hurt?
All over.
Where are you bleeding?
Everywhere.
Why did it happen?
I don’t know.
When is it worse?
When I’m alone.

Love yourself.
I’m trying,
But it’s hard to love a corpse.
To figure out what went wrong
You have to find the source

But how do you find that
when there are so many wounds
Little tiny innocent scars
I’m dazed and confused trying to figure out
Which little nick stopped my heart

Could it be this? Maybe it’s that?
Perhaps there’s a forgotten blow to the gut
It’s hard to heal and hard to be ok
When you’ve experienced Death by 1000 Cuts

Dear Unsealers,

I am a 36 year old woman and wife to my 39 year old husband. My husband was diagnosed with primary progressive MS in 2013 the year we met and also got married (when you know you know!) At first the only visible sign from the outside looking at him was his gait and poor balance, he always appeared to be drunk when you watched him walk. From his perspective, he could no longer see out of his right eye, which became permanent, he was retaining urine which was not safe, he was having a hard time doing his job which involved using his hands and fine tools due to neuropathy like symptoms. Now he uses a cane and a walker and takes medication for spasms in his legs. Now he has also bein diagnosed with major neurocognitive disorder which is a basic open term for dementia. I am his caregiver with the help of a home health aid 12 hours a week. Neither of us expected to be in this position when we met in January of 2013 and married that September. It progressed rather fast and more than likely won’t stop. My husband has a great attitude though which is amazing for him, and so hard for me sometimes, I’ll admit. Sometimes I want to talk about everything and cry, but he already pushed it out and doesn’t think about it like I do somehow. He’s teaching me in his own way how to be more optimistic and less stressed over things you can’t control. I have my own illnesses, mental illnesses, that flare so to speak when I am stressed and it’s helpful to be with such a strong person. Sometimes I don’t know if I have it in me to be a wife and a caregiver to the same person at such a young age; then I think about how we’re helping each other out in different ways I just forget to see it that way, the way it is.

Today I have decided to tell my story. I suffer from bipolar. I was diagnosed with the mental disorder over 20 years ago. I have been through alot. It has been a real problem most of my life.
It was triggered after I had my second child. It was a nightmare 😔. I ended up being hospitalized several times over the course of twenty years. I will do my best to explain the horror of it all. I remember having one episode after another. Each episode was very exhausting and dramatic. I would block out a lot of the different personalities and triggers of emotional dynamics. It was so 😫 tiring.
I will try to explain one of my episodes to give you an idea of it all. Well, it all begins with not taking my medication. It slowly turns into a horror movie. I hear voices and act out several different personalities in my mind. I begin to have spells of crying dramatically having thoughts of despair. I was on edge and going down a bottomless pit of not wanting to be here anymore 😪. Yet, in most circumstances I didn’t want to kill myself because an angelic voice told me, ” no” don’t do it! I say, “okay” most times. Smh.
In these drastic times I have family who did help me like my mother. And that was important and fortunate because at these times it is good to have positive support systems in your life.
In most cases my family would call 911 and have a rescue squad come get me. In this case, I can’t stop crying. I wanted to leave! I wanted to go away! My family would say that I was going to the hospital. My main support is my mother. She was always there for me.
Once the ambulance 🚑 arrived I felt like I was in a horrible movie. This has happened to me several times over the years. Yet on this particular case the ENT would come in from the ambulance slowly one my one. They see I’m distraught and incoherent. I don’t know who I was at this point. I’m yelling for no reason and crying for no reason. I can’t understand what is going on. The police also came in…and it got worse. They felt like I would hurt myself or others and so one officer threatened to taze me. I said please don’t..please give me some water to drink. They did.
They slowly calmed me down and then my casemanager came in to also help out.
They asked her several questions to understand why I was like this. She told them that I was bipolar. I am so sick at this point. I have felt supernatural powers around me. I would say, ” I see angels”. They weren’t really visible but a feeling of goodness and calming voices.
So this contributes and adds to my psychotic behavior 🤔. That is what I felt.
I want to tell you the experience of being INSIDE THE AMBULANCE 🚑. Once I get inside the ambulance I felt like i was being ported to an experimental place. I was scared!!!!!This particular personality in me was very informative. I was talking a great deal like I was literally someone else.
One ENT said that he had never seen anything like this before. I finally got to the emergency room. Once there I begin, to yell and bring attention to myself. The police 🚔 officers were staring at me. A guard was placed at the entrance of my room door. I was being watched for over 24 hours. After a while a psychiatric doctor told me I would be admitted to a room in the hospital.
Now, I was on the floor of the psychiatric unit. Once I was in my own room I was in a bed. In some cases I was given medication to help relax me and I would sleep for hours.
So this was a particular bipolar experience. The next day, after being monitored I had to learn and come to appreciate little things again. Showering 🚿, brushing my teeth, wearing a hospital gown, and being served my breakfast lunch and dinner. This was a safe place.
Once I stayed a couple of weeks I was let go. I had a team of supporters around to help me. I had a case worker, a psychiatrist, and medical doctor coming in to see me. I felt much better. This was going to begin to be a part of my life for over 20 years. It is hard. But I will say I’m currently doing ok. So remember you are not alone. Be positive. Find good supporters in your circumstances. I hope this helps someone. Thank you for hearing my story. I am beating bipolar.

The Matrix

I wake up like I never went to bed.
Sleep is upon my open eyes,
yet they are glazed and scarlet red.
I don’t remember what happened yesterday,
nor do I have a semblance of what the day holds.
I schedule my life out to stop the mind decay.
I sip my coffee until I realize for two hours it’s been cold.
I glance around myself,
“When did I put that picture on my wall?”
“Did I put it together or buy that bookshelf?”
Sometimes I wonder if there’s someone I could call?
But for everyone living their lives,
going to school, work, home, sleep-
It really wouldn’t make sense to hear my cries.
I can’t remember how my mind got so deep.
How I can’t recollect moving into this apartment.
I know I pay for bills, electric and such,
I have a garage that has my car now with a dent,
I mean I remember that much.
I used to go to college,
I had a friend, I think.
But school never taught me a good message.
I always felt blue and everyone was pink,
like I had a mask.
I was so perfect, smart and happy,
but at home, there was always a panic attack waiting for me,
a part no one could, nor would ever see.
Somehow I stopped driving to college.
I had several jobs and goals,
yet I couldn’t find my true meaning or message.
Outside I seemed successful with my methods and morals,
but it seems there’s a part of my soul left behind,
somewhere along moving out and now,
I lost my mind.
Either that or the matrix has me now under its hold.
Somedays I feel the grass under my feet,
and other times
I can’t even look at myself without wanting to retreat.
Cause somewhere along the lines,
I lost me,
and I don’t think I can get her back.
Somewhere on the other side of the root and the tree,
ss the life of that little girl I now lack.
God, I just want to wake up sometimes
without shocking myself with my own touch.
To not wonder If I committed any crimes,
cause my hands are calloused and rough,
From something I can’t even remember,
or can even give a second thought.
When I go to sleep at night
It’s with dread and regret,
that I have no idea what happened in this fight.
But what can you do as you watch the sun set,
It’s the matrix.
Maybe one day,
someone will come and it will all be,
fixed.

Once again//I lay awake,
Light passes through dark stained glass skin,
A mirror, a chisel, a key,
The door behind swings open,
And why should I not have that which I desire?
I trace her steps.
//
My amethyst heart pounds violently as I maneuver through corridors of crystal,
Glassy tears break into marble pieces/my feet don’t bleed from shards,
I stare down at the marble Staircase in the Glass Castle,
Statuesque like meter in the frame,
And it was beautiful.
//
Never more/I fall asleep
The ugly lustre of my body devours the room,
A reflection, a thought, an emotion,
I close the door behind by me,
I know not what I desire when my body desires my mind,
I return to the room.

At my worst, it’s felt like I’ve been swimming through my molasses. The storm has passed, yet fog remained. Echoes blurred the vision of an aimless vagabond.

I cannot see; still, I love my eyes

Birds still chirp their fucking hearts out on crap days,
Like a karaoke star who’s totally lost his way.
And flowers? They’re gatecrashing funerals with sass,
Whispering, “Was it our fucking fragrance, perhaps?”

People scatter when shit really starts to hit the fan,
Quicker than I say “fuck it” to my diet plan.
But the ride-or-dies? They stick like fucking glue,
Like that piece of gum on your shoe, never bidding adieu.

The moon’s up there, changing her damn mind,
Like me in front of the fridge, a late-night find.
So hey, give yourself a break, don’t stress the fucking phase,
We’re all just bumbling through life’s mad, crazy maze.

In the cracks and crevices, we find our fucking groove,
Dodging life’s big-ass feet, we move and we improve.
Escaping the drizzle, dodging the damn pee,
We’re the fucking misfits, making it, wild and free.

So when life feels as tough as a week-old fucking baguette,
Remember, we’re rocking this shit, no need to fret.
In this grand ol’ mess, we might seem fucking small,
But we’re damn well blooming, giving it our fucking all.