(***UPDATE: I wanted to update by informing all subscribers and visitors that my blog is still so important to me. However, let’s just say it’s under emotional construction. In the past two years, I have had my heart absolutely shattered by someone whom I considered to be the closest to me. And then before even fully having time to process and deal with that, I lost the 3 closest people to me in my life. My grandfather first, then my mom, and right after, my grandmother. Oh and in the midst of that, had my first grandbaby. My heart and mind are still reeling. Please be patient with me. I have continued to write behind the scenes and will be back. I am so looking forward to getting back to writing and sharing my art with this world, and I am sorry if I have let anyone down.***)
I wanted to take a moment and say thank you so much for your support. Writing is everything to me and it means even more to know that people enjoy and support my passion.
I wanted to take a moment to encourage you to go check out my older posts and entries. Just scroll to the bottom to the archives and let me know what you think.
There are entries of dark poetry, imaginative poetry, stories and even more vulnerable posts about motherhood, love, heartbreak, growth, healing, and more.
Again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your support and love. And I look forward to continuing this journey with you.
Can you hear the silence of the last leaves falling? If the wind blows a certain way, I start feeling desperate that I will miss the last one fall. I feel something watching that happen. It’s the one time a year where I don’t feel so small in this world. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
Before this world aged me, I used to love putting my boots on and going out to crunch every single acorn and leaf. The sound awakened something in me that is closest I have ever come to true joy. Now, I just stare at them. Yesterday, I was driving down the road with the window down and one actually fell and came in the window and hit me in the side of the head so hard, that it sent a shock through my head and caused my ear to ring. I guess even the acorns have turned on me. And it didn’t help this 2 week headache I am carrying.
The kid in me is gone. Is this how it happens to every adult? I always promised myself that I would never let that happen to me. My goofiness and kid-like nature was the thing that was a part of me. Making people laugh was a genuine part of my spirit. However, my spirit is ghost-like now and it really is true that the people that are the goofiest and who make everyone else laugh and happy, are the ones who are suffering the most.
The air is crisp and and I sit at night and wonder to myself about where all the creatures and critters have gone. Where do they go to cozy up during the falling of fall? And the next thing I wonder is if I can go there too? I mean just really listen at night. Not a peep. Just the quiet of the night and I like to imagine that every single creature is deep in a hole with the greatest fire going. They are roasting marshmallows and laughing with their fellow creatures, making plans for next spring and summer. Hashing out territories like a town hall meeting.
Every so often, the sun peeks through the clouds as if the sky is also in talks with the wind. They weigh their time out perfectly so it flows like a beautiful painting. And then at the end of the day, the sun tips its hat to the moon as they pass in the horizon and another day is done. They work in such unison. But people….people can’t seem to manage that. Imagine the beauty that would be if they could. Still, I just stare at the beauty that is the completion of another successful day that nature offered me. Front row seats to the most gorgeous display I have ever witnessed.
Nighttime is even more beautiful. There are creatures that come out and take the night-watch. They are the sires that rule the night, hunting, continuing on life’s plan keeping an exact rule into this great big world. If you listen closely, you can hear the mama coyotes call out to their young at night, and then listen further and you’ll hear all the babies barking back. You will hear that until at last, they are together again, running the same path in the night. Everything flows so smoothly and it’s kismet.
Yet, here we sit, enjoying it and feeling the most somber things this world can offer. How often we take advantage of the healing all around us. Creatures who don’t slow down just because the world is hunting them. They just keep grazing and hope that another day is offered up to them. We are selfish creatures. The most selfish on the planet. Because no matter the beauty around us, we stop dead in our tracks with heartbreak and trials. We let sadness and hopelessness drag us down at the drop of the first leaf. We are not deserving of the top of the food chain. We deserve to be hunted one by one as something else’s dinner.
We chop the tree down that offers us oxygen. We eat the meat that grazes our lands. We spray poison in place of the creature that may very well eat the critter or plant that will poison us.
This Earth is spinning backwards. And that is why we somehow ended up on top. That has to be why. Maybe the orbit can change and knock about and we can finally spin the way we deserve. These leaves fall around me, and I soak the cold into my very bones. I try not to wither with them. I want to freeze them in place like a permanent resin in nature so that I can savor the moment that I realized that I don’t just feel small, I am small. After all, there’s a great big world out there that doesn’t care about my broken heart. It doesn’t care about the desperate ways I am clinging on to anything that can show me glory. That can show me grace. I am not sufficient enough to show it to myself.
So crunch, crunch, crunch on the acorn
and grab onto the last of the thorns
Make eye contact with the deer through the brush
And stay still so they don’t scatter in a rush
Sit with the moon at night in the bone-chilling cold
And embrace ever shiver as each day I grow old
Run with the wolves hoping instead of being a meal
We could join forces and strike a mother-nature deal
I’ll strip naked and grow fur
Run with the best of them, leave this human form in the blur
Roll around under the night sky
The moon will recharge me and dry the tears that fall from just the one eye
I’ll howl and howl until I am healed from this pain
And the trees will provide me shelter when at last here comes the cold rain
I will lay down one last time, as the sun it begins to rise
As the life before me and behind me, all at once, finally dies…..
I don’t know if these walls are getting smaller or if I am. Are they closing in or am I closing down? My mind is so weighted down, that I feel sick. I feel so unwell. More unwell than I have ever felt.
I want to mean something to someone. I wanna feel so wanted that it spews from my veins. I want to be surprised with a kiss so passionate that I feel dizzy when it slows to a stare. I need to be loved in a way that I feel safe for the first time in my life. How long have I waited? Waiting always….
I want to feel worth it. Worthy. Enough. Why is it so hard to do that? Why do I feel so small around everyone? There are stories you hear about people who cry out so loud that all at once, their voice is just..gone. I am shrinking smaller and smaller and grasping at straws for ways to keep moving.
It really doesn’t matter what I go through, and how hard those things are. People just assume that I will be ok and keep going and going like I am untouchable, unstoppable. Well, here’s a secret that evidently no one has figured out yet.. I am not bulletproof. And the holes have become so many that every secret and every ache and every pierce are seeping out every single one of them.
I have made excuses for my heartaches and I have tried to explain them away to protect the embarrassment of another failed attempt to love deeply and be loved deeply and entirely. However, I can not hide what I have no more room for inside of me.
I am sleeping alone every night now. Night after night, I go to bed wondering how much more silence I can endure. I am not alone in this house. Just in this bed, in my thoughts, in my heart, in this pain, and in a love that is not reciprocated in a way that I deserve. Because if it was, I wouldn’t be in this pain. I wouldn’t express it and not feel safe afterwards. There is no rescue. There is no Knight in shining armor. I can see, just like always, that they won’t fight for me, and that is enough to fully break me. What is so hard about it? Fight! Love me the way I deserve. Help me. I feel pathetic that I have begged for years for what is the bare minimum in love.
I feel like I am hiding in someone else’s house. Someone else’s life. And I am not welcome anymore. I am just another item in this house in the way. I should be stuffed in a bag or a box and donated or placed in that building. That way, everyone can do what I must be getting in the way of.
I’ve had a headache for going on 2 weeks now. I feel like I’m done. Done giving and giving and giving. I am officially pouring from an empty cup. By the end of this, I will be the new villain in the story. Not the person who has been bent and broken and drained of everything I was filled with.
Karma is a fickle little thing. They say that we get exactly what we deserve. Well, can you please tell them that I get it now, and I don’t need to learn anymore? Whoever they are…..
I don’t know why I cleaned this house. I don’t know why I am throwing all of my things away, things that have meant so much to me over the years. They don’t seem to mean anything to me now. Still, throwing them away still will never make it enough. It’s never enough. There’s always something after that I am doing wrong. Even my feelings are wrong and in the way.
Maybe by the end of this, I will breakthrough and get to light at the end of the tunnel. Lord knows it’s past time for a love that I truly deserve. But it’s different. It’s a love that is waiting at the end that is just for myself. Finally showing passion and intimacy and grace to myself that I have never been able to show before.
But I’m not there yet. I am in this room, alone day after day after day. Hurting and broken, and having to go through it in a breakdown…..
Who wouldn’t love this view? Right? I have slipped into a dress up scheme for myself while being here. Today, I am the southern ‘Carrie Bradshaw’. Last night, I washed my hair, got a decent night’s sleep, and this morning, I even made it downstairs in time for the breakfast that broke my wallet for the stay here.
The decor was nothing if not exquisite. Once done eating, I decided to do a natural southern Saturday activity. Yard sales. I only went to two, but I found the most adorable shoes and jewelry. More importantly, I was instantly reminded of the real reason that I actually like to frequent yard sales. The company, the companionship, and the stories. I met two different women today.
The first yard sale, I met a wonderful woman in her 60s who was fast-coasting towards retirement and trying to hang on at her job to 67 to get the full effect of her retirement she had worked so hard for. Her friend showed up and the 3 of us laughed and talked about real-life stuff that was really relevant in all three of our lives. I honestly didn’t want to leave them. I craved the company, but I didn’t dare wear out my welcome. They are the ones who told me there was a close of house sale at the end of the street.
I drove down about a block and a half and sure enough, there was my second and final yard sale, mostly because I had already almost spent the $40 I had allotted for myself for yard sales. This nice lady sat at a table with a sister and a granddaughter and chain-smoked, which I admit, grossed me out having just quit back in October of last year. However, I digress because the conversation was worth biting through.
The sale they were having was at their grandmother’s house. They were probably in their 50s. I found cool jewelry there and found out the main seller of the yard sale made it by hand and was sitting at the table teaching her granddaughter to make it.
I spoke to them about having not long ago been a part of the sale of my own grandparents house. Which led to telling them that I had lost my grandparents and my mom back to back. Once telling them how my mom passed away, the sister pointed at the other lady and said that she too was a type 2 diabetic and was not taking care of herself. This, if you haven’t caught on, is what led to my mother’s passing.
I immediately felt an urgency to beg her to take care of herself and take every second of it so seriously. And before I knew it, I was saying it out loud to her. She received it well and actually seemed concerning when I explained to her that it was a most unpleasant passing to witness and be a part of, made much worse being my sweet mother.
Next was an uneventful trip to walmart and then back here to my hotel. I need to mention that although having two umbrellas in the car, not a one was inside walmart with me and I got drenched running to my car.
Back at the hotel, I decided to change into one of the very cute shirts I had purchased and go get a few things out of the car. It’s so beautiful how a cute outfit can make you feel good about yourself. And it did. I mean, it is, currently.
Here I sit, in a gorgeous location outside the corner of the hotel, with a beautiful view of the architecture and seemingly religious stain-glassed windows, writing.
So, how might this night end or what could it turn into? I look forward to sharing that soon…..
I can admit that this is not where I saw myself being at when I look back 7 to 8 years ago. I honestly would have thought that I would finally be living my happily ever after. But alas, that is not at all where I sit. No, I sit in a hotel…alone. There’s no vacation amiss, there’s no couple escape, and I’m not here to visit a friend. I’m here desperately seeking some remnants of peace. I have never been so weighted down in every area of my life all at the same time. It’s though the weight of a skyrise building is sitting on top of me.
To make things more soaked with dark clouds, I have been unable to write since my mother passed away almost 2 years ago.
I have died inside over and over since 2021. My heart has been trampled on by every force you could think up. And I could never even make it up. It’s real and I wish it wasn’t. Loneliness, bad health news and changes, betrayal, death, abandonment…. You name it, it has rolled me under an 18-wheeler in a back and forth motion for 4 years.
I have never experienced feeling at the same time so scared, and feeling so unwanted and unloved sitting at this hotel tonight. I’m admitting out loud right now finally, at almost 41 years old, that I want what I deserve. I’m not sure everything that should be on that list, but I know for sure that at the least, currently, that I know I deserve to feel safe. I deserve to feel like I am not faulted for being scared or being who I am. I deserve to express what has hurt me, and when I am sad. I deserve to be comforted. I deserve romance. I deserve respect and honor. I deserve to be protected when I am in danger, and I deserve to be loved the way that I love.
I’m standing outside my room right now overlooking the pool writing this. Down by the pool, of all things that could be going on, is bounds of laughter and community. I met some of them down in the lobby today. You see, there’s a beautiful wedding going to happen tomorrow. I am just so grateful that it’s not going to be here. It’s enough to hear them all laughing and discussing love while reminiscing about all of their histories and relationships. I am not salty about them. I believe in love. I am just not 100% I have ever understood it. Ever. Right when I think I am experiencing exactly what love should feel like for me, the entire rug gets swiped right out from under me.
I have a home. I know I am not there right now, but I do have one. Well, I did. I don’t know if I have one anymore. A part of me hopes I do. The other part of me doesn’t know if it was ever truly a real home. Every year there has been spent one moment in absolute turmoil, and then the next minute having make up days for all the turmoil and then wash, rinse, and repeat.
I have spent years helping make that house into a home. It has one of the most beautiful porches I have ever had the pleasure of helping make an actual porch for a home. It’s my favorite thing to enjoy and look at at that house. Picture rocking chairs, a swing, and flowers, flowers, and garden everywhere. When things are really bad, sometimes I wonder to myself, am I staying for the flowers? It is a prominent question I have pondered to myself many many times.
How could I not have all of these things running through my mind, right? I mean, after all, I wouldn’t be in this hotel if the turmoil had not became just too much for me to literally bare anymore.
I have loved him since day one. I used to be able to say it has never faltered, my love. But one can only have unwavering love for so long without the same reciprocation before they cave in and collapse. After a barrel of betrayal, questioning why I am not enough, and realizing that literally no one around me cares if drop unconscious right in front of them due to arguing, stress and anger because of very serious health issues that are happening right now, I met my limit that I could no longer look in the face. All I could think is to get by myself so I could stop from instantly collapsing.
I’m sure you’re wondering if has gotten any better? The short answer is no. No one has ever considered me worth it enough to chase me proving their love for me. So, I have booked two more days. How ironic it is that I will check out on Memorial Day.
There’s a gorgeous bar here, and because of my health, I can’t have a single drink. I would love to be sitting here writing this with a glass of wine.
Today, instead of sweet nothing texts, he did what I thought he would do based on his behavior as of late. By the afternoon, in the few texts we have sent each other, I could instantly tell that his mood and view had changed. All of sudden, the space that I need, and the care that I need, took a backseat as usual and it became about the space that he needed and the anguish that he was feeling. It’s not that his feelings don’t matter. That’s the point. It seems as though only his feelings ever matter. I feel small. I feel less than in his eyes. Sometimes I think he’s only with me out of pity and the inability to ask me to leave. Even though he just “proposed” to me less than 2 months ago. When I really think about it, I am being put through a tailspin. Do you want me all the time? Or do you only want me when I am sick or things are seemingly good? Please tell me because I am crumbling like a rockslide. You can only have me if you love all of me.
You can not erupt every time things get hard. I have loved you and cared for you wholeheartedly through all of your darkest times and I would continue to, even right now, if you can do the same. That is why I am here at this hotel. And the reason it might have took so long to take this space could maybe, possibly be…..that I stayed for the flowers.
And I have dawned these great dark seas and jungles before
They have long come for me. I have twisted in their wrath and shook in their cold as the sweat of their toxins ran down my brow
You who seeks to protect me while destroying me, what are you truly seeking?
For your paranoia has made you a fool. A tyrant, yeast in its palm.
Calling yourself holy while riddled with holes seeping poison.
I am the keeper of this forest of green. My winds are strong, the brown of my dirt is beastly, and the shake of my ground is earth shattering.
So, who are you to call upon my land? You bring your dented sword to fight the poachers while simultaneously leading them straight to my centers.
Sometimes you want so much to be the keeper, to be the wrath of good, to be the honest gallant, but find that while fighting these hard battles and stepping with agony through each field, that you are the villain you’ve been running from.
So, step aside and let this evil you bring with you come for me. Kneel while they tear me flesh from flesh. Turn away your head while they gnash my teeth away.
Let. Them. Come.
For they know who I am.
I have spent much in solitude in preparation for your treachery.
My heart guarded with the thickest of water from the deepest and darkest seas.
If I fall in defeat, you will still be there kneeling, and you and your army will be swallowed by my earth. You will drown in the water of my roots and in turn, revive me again.
And there I shall be in my forest of green yet again, with you beneath my beastly brown, and sentenced to a lifetime of earthquakes beneath my worn feet.
I feel as though there are a lot of forms of heartbreak one can feel in their time on this Earth. And I feel that way rather a life last 100 years, or if it’s cut short right in its prime. Some experience every form of it. And those are the people that hold the most truth and strength. However, unresolved, those are also the people that go on to cause great suffering around them. And on the opposite end, there are those who have been through each heartache, did the work to heal, and allow themselves to give fully again to experience the fullness of something. And if they ever cross paths with the first version and connect in absolute, it can be disastrous.
This world can hold so much sadness. However, one of the saddest to witness or experience, especially close to home, is to witness and/or experience someone that is so much of a dreamer, that they can no longer see clearly.
I flip back through notes, years’ worth, even one as recent as my very dark birthday. He spoke of hoping and praying to see and experience all of the adventures that were being written about amongst us. It makes me feel sorry for him reading it now. Because the secret part that I could always see and held knowledge of was the blissful fact that writing down those adventurous plans, were always part of the adventure.
Each and every word penned down, a grin on the face; those poetic verbiages, were part of the greatest adventure. And in that sense, knowing now, he missed them all. He missed our greatest adventures.
While he was dreaming of other lives, other adventures, even with other people, here I sat, penning down adventures of a lifetime. Bringing them to life, I penned down a manifesto. I was living every moment of bliss we were building and had built. Both by living them, and by poetic penmanship. I sat there fulfilled. You? Sad that one could miss every single one daydreaming of something better.
When enough isn’t enough, we miss the best parts of our lives.
And now? Well now, I grow old content and fulfilled. Because adventures, I have lived them. The greatest ones.
I also get to be the saddest. Because for years, I thought I was living out these adventures with the greatest of all soulmates. And now, I am slammed with a realization that I travelled miles and mountains with a ghost. A phantom man ran his hands through my hair. A phantom shivered up my spine as he shook my world.
I flew in the clouds as I hallucinated the greatest love of all time.
And you?
I feel pain for your soul. We get one life gifted to us by mother nature’s womb. As I grow content in the gray that forms in my sweet and worn scalp, you wrinkle in regret. Too much time living in your own needs of protection have robbed you and cost you all of the incredible journeys that were right in front of you.
They weren’t enough. For you. And now, they have come to pass and haunt you. Fantasy smoke has cleared, and bones aren’t as sturdy as they once were. Thrown aside when not benefiting you, all of the things and people left in your wake dust off and come to view you like a museum piece as they live on.
And when and if this ends, I will leave fulfilled. Because heaven knows, I lived every single second of every single one of the greatest journeys of my life.
The Truth and the Lies of the Journey 