Rinse and repeat

This moment keeps repeating

A loop

The answer I claim not to know

Sits low in the pit of my stomach

Every time the moment loops

The pit grows

But

What if?

How many times can I ask myself this?

The loop comes again

Tonight I almost felt swallowed by it

Sorrow weighs heavy

I can talk myself out of anything

Almost

Until the moment loops again

Sigh

Moon Enlightenment

Watching Her through the window

I catch sight of my reflection

My cheeks seem to sparkle

The Moon’s gentle light, transforming the trails of my tears

Melancholy Grief

So much of myself lost

Given and taken away

The silver rivulets tracing cracks I’m trying to repair

Trying to feel worthy

I am not a throw away vessel to be used and emptied

This was (is) my failure

Her light reflects on my face, the idea I am wearing her magic, the only love that will protect me

Is my own

Empty

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

Everyday Insanity

You see it when you look in the mirror

The circles under your eyes, the slightly off colour off of your skin

The exhaustion sucking away what’s left of your youth

Is it illness? Stress? Unrelenting shit storm of life?

Wash your face, hoping the cleanser, water and lotion revitalize you the way it says in the ads

You sigh… all you want is to pull the blanket over your head, a good cry and then set off for the mystical woods to find your peace.

A mouth full of coffee

A mitt full of vitamins

Paint the mask on

Another mitt full of pain relievers washed down with now lukewarm coffee.

This is not life, this is a never ending grind of insanity.

Don’t let the easy tears wash away the mask. Keep reminding yourself that ‘someday’ the break will come

Or is that the breaking point?

Others have it worse, they tell you about it

You wipe tears, hold hands and encourage the breath in others-

But you can’t catch your own.

Another mouth full of coffee, don’t forget to eat? Did you eat?

Check on those you love. Smile. Do your best to ignore the din of your own internal monsters.

Life must go on, there are things to get done.

Come home, the most you can do is mind numbing scroll or watch TV

Try to sleep, hoping truly for rest and pray it looks different in the mirror tomorrow.

She

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

Rage ( Pt2, the Kicker)

The kicker

I’ve worked so hard from where this knocked me to the last time I was finding ‘self’.

I built hope

Hope that there was misinformation and miscommunication that could be healed

But I was so far down, buried in shame

Things I held true disintegrated like my hard fought ability to trust

But I resolved to build, trusting the vision I had would come, it feels like it is meant to be. The feelings of love in my heart would build a better foundation

Every baby step I make, a look or breath of a word can knock me down.

I resolve to lead by an example.

I resolve to lead without shame

I resolve to stay open to love and trust

I resolve to stop letting myself down and treasure the very humanness I am told is what shines ( not shame as the whispers say)

Rage -venting the feelings (pt 1)

Rage

Don’t pay me lip service

If you ask me what I need

That is not enough – not without action

If I ask you to come to my playground because I’m always at yours

Don’t decline because it ‘doesn’t suit you’

Raging about my gender will upset me

Raging with out room for learning and compassion will shut me down

Making it know that parts of me, things I care for and hold dear are ‘not your cup of tea’ so

you ignore them completely, shows me you do not accept me for who I am

Your rage breaks me apart. My shame can bury me. This time my rage will help me rise

The Room I’m In

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

Quiet quitting isn’t just for work

Do you know what the true quiet quitting is?

When you want the time, attention, effort and energy you put out to be appreciated and in some form returned and you come to the realization it is not.

When you yearn so much to be validated, seen, and heard, and when you recognize it doesn’t materialize and you just give up.

Quietly of course, your opinions get quieter and smaller, you begin to ask less, you begin to do less and you feel the shrinking taking place.

It happens in small ways at first, and not in every place in your life at the same time. It’s barely even noticeable because nothing was noticeable to begin with in that space.

Until finally the space that you took up is all but folded it on itself and winked out like a little fairy light.

That my friends is a quiet quitting,

everyone trying so hard to be heard and very few taking the time to listen. We eventually stop putting in the extra time and attention in the places we feel undervalued.

This happens in every place we inhibit, work, school, friend relationships, family relationships- our daily lives.

Nothing is ever truly balanced, that is one of life’s hard truths. Another, is that no one ( not even ourselves) can live up to the expectations we create. Compassion and understanding are needed for moments of unbalance, but should not have to be the space you always operate from.

Perhaps this is the truest form of self love? To often this disconnect is unnoticed, or blame shifted to the person receding. A reaction of fear that the person/place being receded from may need to be accountable.

What are/have you quietly quit? What was the outcome? Who has quietly quit from a work or personal relationship with you? Do you understand, will you admit your role in the dissolution? Have you ever noticed the places you quietly quit on yourself?

New beginnings old ghosts

Lately the anxiety is bubbling just under the surface. I have had a wild month. Slings, arrows, bricks, mortar, silence and a deafening cacophony.

I had a big slip- with some help I fought back most of the way.

I have been fighting hard to breath life into the amazing opportunities in front of me.

To not be crushed by feelings of doubt and inadequacies. To not rely on ample input from the outside. To believe the reasons I’ve been given about why I’m the one who can accomplish these tasks. To trust I’m making the right choices. To not build my hopes of success by the involvement or encouragement of others. To choose carefully how I build, what I build and with who.

Trust trust trust myself

Today is shaky. Today is overwhelming. Today is very isolating. I know this place. And today, in this glorious Solstice, I cant seem to find it in me to get the monsters to be quiet, I cant seem to shake the dark. I cant seem to find my way. I am tired. I am sore. I have no voice but the inside screaming isn’t stopping.

Yet…. I have to, and I will do what needs to be done today. Measured breath, clenched jaw, head down and do what I can. Ride it out.

So tonight when I am finished doing what I must, I’m going to go to my favourite places amongst the trees, maybe find a Fae door or two. Breathe, ground, and let this finally wash through me. To let the God(dess) hold me steady, this too shall pass.