Standing Still at the Speed of Light
Writing, true life, random facts and fiction
There are no heroes
There is no one to admire
Pretty Art
Is better
Anonymous
Can not trust a stranger
Can not trust a known
Can not believe the poetry from your lips
Disguising the monster
There are no heroes
There is no one with out a mask
An honest heart
The words I love that built worlds in my mind
Have tainted
My own heart and awakened a distrust
I long thought healed
The shards of my heart that were broken by a thousand little things
The shards I thought I had adequately glued back together with
Gratitude
Breath
Self reliance
And other illusions
Those broken pieces feel like they are cutting through me
Disappointments
Creative endeavours ignored or shelved
Words unheard
Words unread
Grief unhinged
Starvation of the soul
Losses of time and people
Emotions stepped on
Unconsidered
Unseen
Words stick in my throat
Fear of expressing
Pain
Overwhelm
The weight of all things in my head
To be called a martyr
Blamed
Shunned
No one ever asking why or where it started
I’ll give you something to cry about
Its not that bad
Grow up
Someone has it worse
You asked for it
What did you think was going to happen
You always figure it out
I can’t stand you when you’re like this
Too much
Too ugly
Frustration
To know the damage lies so deep
Feeling is muted
Wanting so bad to be see
Validated
Deemed worthy
That when I am
When the love is shown
The recognition that
I am
Worthy
Appreciated
Loved
Valid to have space
I
Can’t
Feel
It
I want to hold it like a little bird- so delicate, close to my heart, only for me
But I need to hold it up and show others around me
See
Do you see?
I am worthy
Tell me, Tell me you see
Because
I
Can’t
Feel
It
Frustration, scar tissue so thick
It will never be enough
That is the echo
How can I work through this
When
I
Don’t
Know
How
It
Feels
It is a series of threads
Each anchored to me
Reaching out into the world
Never the same direction
At my feet lay the broken ones
Ends frayed, some bloody, some burnt
Others pulled taut to the point of pain
The looseness of a few, tripping me up
The movement of some pulling me along
The rigidity of some holding me in place
Some I can see- some move off into the ether where I can not see, just feel
It’s is a series of threads
Supporting
Letting go
Am I bound
Am I the make up of all theses things woven together
Am I the spool underneath this tangled mass
It is a series of threads
I flirt with her
We get so close, I feel her heart beat. So different than my own, it’s sure, steady, strong. She is a warrior. Her stillness is intoxicating, it fills me with want.
I tell myself a story, imagining what it would be like to have that from the inside. To inhabit such a creature, who is all at once wild chaos, yet very much in controlled command.
I flirt with her
I bring her close, we play reveal and I run. Looking at her through the glass, she is brandishing her sword. Ready for battle, ready for play. Her marks show up on my skin to remind me.
Dark swirls, symbols of memory, power and the stamp of ownership. Her voice is power, echoing in my head- my own unsteady as it passes through my lips. Unsure, I bow to that which is around me.
I flirt with her
I want to be consumed. Reborn through her body and soul. Confident, soft flesh, yielding and revealing. Open yet showing nothing to the undeserving. How can we be so different? Yet one
We flirt, each time we get closer to melding, for a moment I see through her eyes, her voice begins to sing through my lips. Fear clenches my teeth, unsure, I bow to that which is around me.
She is moving closer to the surface, her magic is written on me, no longer will she be contained. The most powerful monster to defeat is my own fear. The fear of truly feeling her within me.
Becoming one and losing myself. Unleashing that which has always been, buried under false expectations, wounds and masks of identity. Fear of not knowing her, yet so completely sure that she is what I want.
I flirt with her intensely, she begins to look back at me through the glass. Compassionate wild eyes. A spine of steel. Waiting to embrace me with the strength that has held me through so much. I allow her power to sit low inside me, hot humming passion and rage.
I close my eyes. To feel her. To feel me. The purpose in her breathe moving into mine. The strength of her heart echoing through each beat of my own
We flirt. We dance. We embrace so wholly her ancient power melts into my own passion. Awakening Accepting that this internal affair may burn up life around me The ash affording the new growth
What is the body?
Flesh Muscle Nerves Blood Bone
Is this me?
Does it just house what is me?
Spirit Soul Memory Wisdom Love
Is this me?
What happens to the body touches the spirit, soul, leaves a memory
The sensation of love
The creation of wisdom
Not all that happens to the flesh leaves a mark
On the soul spirit
Sex may just set the flesh on fire but not deep longing/love in the soul
The body can be ‘perfect’ and house a twisted broken spirit soul
The body can be ‘broken’ and house in incredibly wise, beautiful, soul spirit
They are temporarily bound together
Each very separate but needed to create the whole
This is me
I search for stillness
There is fire burning with in
But the noise keeps the heat contained
It’s burning like a fever
To fuck
To create
To run screaming searching for an entry to the Ether
I search for stillness
The fire threatens an explosion but the noise and distractions don’t stop
Embers become white hot
Being dissolved from the inside
So much to get out
Words, feelings, colour
Need to touch, speak, release
This is not living when the spirit is contained ignited and starving for space and oxygen
I am told I am seen by so many,
I’m not seen in the room I’m in.
I am told my words are a balm, helpful
I am not heard in the room I’m in
I am told I am valued, touched so many
I am alone in the room I’m in
Fuck you for misunderstanding me with out forgiveness
Fuck you for not trusting your place in my life
Fuck you for thinking I was not worthy of growth
Fuck you for wanting me to stay at your beck and call
Fuck you for pretending I mattered as a person
Fuck you for expecting me to be your lapdog
Fuck you for your unacknowledged issues
Fuck you for being ok knocking me down
Fuck you for demanding I give things up that were making me happy
Fuck you for walking away
Fuck you for withdrawing your support
Fuck you for waking the unworthy feelings buried inside me
Fuck you for standing by while my mental health fell apart
Fuck you for deciding it was ok because I gave you your way
Fuck you for gaslighting me
Fuck you for not helping me get better
Fuck you for being passive as long as I behave
Fuck you for your lack of care for my pain
Fuck you for not being sorry
Fuck you for being angry
Fuck you for being jealous
Fuck you engaging me and walking without explanation
Fuck you for breaking my trust
Fuck you for silence
Fuck you for not listening
Fuck you for judging me
Fuck you for not caring
Fuck you for your possession
Fuck you for your temper
Fuck you for the guilt
Fuck you for the pain this has caused
Fuck you for the apology I will never get
Fuck you for your expectations
Fuck you for the sabotage
Fuck you for the fake support
Fuck you for every anxiety attack that grew from this poison
Fuck you for your lack of kindness
Fuck you for your lack of compassion
Fuck you for waking up parts that were asleep
Fuck you for the binding
Fuck you for being a liar
Fuck you for letting me take the blame for everything
Fuck you for being ok that I gave up
Fuck you for the space this take up in my head
Fuck you for giving the monsters more fuel
Fuck you for shaming me for who I was growing into
Fuck you for every tear I have cried
Fuck me for falling for it
Fuck me for taking the easy out
Fuck me for giving up
Fuck me for being silent
Fuck me for wearing shame like a cloak
Fuck me for trusting
Fuck me for not using my voice
Fuck me for giving up after trying my voice a little
Fuck me for only screaming in my head
Fuck me for fearing getting mad
Fuck me for being afraid of being abandoned
Fuck me for needing to be seen
Fuck me for being stuck in this place
Fuck me for believing in loyalty
Fuck me for not thinking I matter
Fuck me for not feeling strong enough to grow on my own
Fuck me for my lack of self love
Fuck me for my abundance of self loathing
Fuck me for expecting I mattered enough to apologize to
Fuck me for willingly taking all the responsibility
Fuck me for hoping that someone would notice
Fuck me for shrinking inside
Fuck me for rebuilding my prison
Fuck me for not being able to trust
Fuck me for not placing the good things above this
Fuck me for every tear I choked on because
Fuck me for patterned self sabotage
Fuck me for not screaming FUCK YOU
I stand in front of the mirror
Armour on
Battle worn, cracked and brittle
Some areas thick and rigid with hasty repair
Is this the way you love me?
Lifting the helmet, what can’t be seen, as they reside so deep, are the howling banshees who live inside. Burrowed in, born of survival, fear and pain. Revealed, tired, wanting eyes.
The cuirass goes next, throat exposed
Words have died here
Breath extinguished
Fine network of scars unseen but felt
Pauldron lifted, the weight had held my arms in place to brace against the blows. Shoulders curled forward with the phantom weight of all that was, without the bindings now threatening to disengage
Plackart next, twisted scars over where the heart resides
Thick, thorny vines at once piercing and protecting the beating centre
Jagged lumps of torn tissue across the upper back holding my arms in place
Faulds removed, one by one, exposing my sex. Sometimes taken, sometimes gifted
Mistaken often for the sole root of power – it is but one area I can hold sacred
The cuisse loosened to fall away, revealing legs with nearly invisible trails of scars, some inflicted through war, some used as a release to quiet the banshees on their terror.
Here I stand, the mirror reflecting all that was hidden beneath the armour
The ugly truth of the damage. The damage that created the need for the armour.
Can you love me this way?
Can I love me this way?
Standing Still at the Speed of Light 