Donations With Love

me in white shirt 2

Donations

This link is to support in any form or amount, an up and coming, struggling writer who dreams of inspiring the world and to be heard, one post at a time. I have never been one to ask for anything. However, I thought it was important to add a link because there have been so many times in my life I wanted to help someone, and didn’t know how. Well, now, if you feel led to, here’s a great way. Have an incredible day. And keeping dreaming as big as your heart can stretch.

$1.00

Worst Case

blue filter me

As you sit, dazed on the front steps, the noises of the wrinkled grump off in the distance on his rusted machinery. You play music in one ear, and listen to your surroundings with the other thinking to yourself, man.. That pill didn’t hit right like it used to. You can still feel. You don’t want to. The stress of each day mounting and you struggle to keep your eyes just barely peeled open each and every day. Smile now, they’re looking. All is fine you say, while your feet are on fire. And just for a moment, you can feel the breeze coming that will spread that blaze.

One hit from a penny pincher. Counting change for the future. A future that is fast changing.

The vibrant garden seeded and grown so beautifully with love wilts quickly, as does your desire and will to tend it. Fast approaching is a day you must face all facts and deal in truth, no matter how hard or fast the rocks will roll down the mountain. And you can no more outrun them than a cat can outrun a wild pack of coyotes.

Alone is not a bad word, nor a bad thing, but the authoritative view and forced fate of alone or being spoken over you is different. Like a magic carpet under you that you have no control over. As they would say, 6 steps forward, and for you, 13 steps backwards.

A bent and broken rod can’t be reshaped in the same form it was. Once bent, it is forever different, as is its uses.

You could blow bubbles of truth that would hurt the masses, but instead are forced to sow your mouth shut while stuffing it with rags for the riches of others. Your turn got skipped, and I’m sorry is an apology you’ve long had to accept without receiving it.

Still dazed on these steps, you think of forgiveness and how far you’ve came within it. Still in pain, untrusting, and at times, completely numb. But in another way, you don’t carry anger for it anymore, just a pinch in the side, or a pin-prick.

Just tell them to hit you again. Hurry. Before long, you’ll be back at the sink, washing dishes, doing laundry while dinner is cooking. Thinking about what you need to do next to keep your mind superbly busy to continue your magnificent escape from these talks the other you has with you about the worst things that could happen, and the helplessness you will feel when they do…..

The Mind of the PTSD

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She sleeps in a dark abyss,

sealed with a fated fatal kiss 

water slowly pouring, filling the space within

she begins to take these last breaths,

accepting the death that comes with these sins.

Screams are deafened by gurgle of her lungs

strum your guitar, echo through the waves, 

maybe she could hold her breath long enough

to navigate these deep caves…

Drowning in the silence, 

she thinks of each memory she had erased;

and the ticking of clocks winding down,

due to the distance and time and space. 

It won’t be long now, 

the water now mixes with sand,

vision’s become blurred, 

almost too late for a rescue hand..

It’s so dark here, 

and a familiar song is on repeat.

Muffled by the muddy water, 

now concreting her feet. 

If only she could find a light,

an opening to escape,

then maybe she could find the breath 

to recooperate.

But alas she kneels sinking,

into the sand that has claimed her sadness.

And she’s no longer thinking clearly 

becoming much more friendly with the madness…

Heartbeats slowing, echoing like a drum,

slowly reversing back all the pain, 

as she begins to leave this slum….

She begins to smile in the struggle,

succumbing to the release of this horrible pain,

the voices of torment, finally being muzzled.

There’s a light…she hopes is a sunrise,

but alas, it can’t be, in this deep demise. 

Nonetheless, it calls to her, foolish as it seems,

she feels it’s finally her call to redeem.

The light is warm, 

far from the cold, damp waters that have kept her here..

Is it true, is is over? 

These decades of cold pain, 

held down by the most massive of boulders.

She closes her eyes, one final time.

To open them now, would take a supernatual force of change.

She’s never been so dead, to be so alive. 

No one else left to blame. 

It’s beautiful here,

although the light is blinding.

and almost all the chains are gone, 

that had once caused the binding. 

This new life of freedom, is a mystery.

almost scary, to this new she. 

Everything she could imagine, 

in a life free from pain. 

And all the time that was wasted, 

is now hers to gain. 

She takes off running, 

no destination in sight.

A hesitant smile on her face,

arms open wide.

Runs fast through fields of clover,

falling and rolling in laughter.

She thinks for a moment, 

all the heartache was worth it, 

for this ever after..

She doesn’t even know how much time has went by, 

or if time even exists here. 

She only knows that as far as she can see, 

everything has never been more clear. 

Freedom lives here. 

And now, so does she? 

She second guesses for a moment, 

on what the catch might be.  

Having never felt deserving, 

or that she earned a fleet of bliss. 

She runs again to find the damage.     

Storm clouds appear in the distance, 

and the ground begins to shake. 

And all the clovers she had knelt in,

begin to melt away.

Vines begin to chain her,

to ground that briefly was this bliss. 

The winds fly through so strongly, 

it takes her breath away. 

And the storm clouds once in the distance, 

begin to steal the light of day. 

It’s too late to realize, 

this daydream is over, 

and her hell has once again risen. 

What once was her freedom, 

is once again becoming her prison.

A mind never truly happy. 

A soul never quite saved. 

She slowly begins to wake, 

as this violent storm tries to take her away. 

The wake is no more freeing, 

than the winds that ripped through that field.

Or the mind that she is trapped in,

deciding the things that are real.

She awakes coughing up water, 

choking on sand,

wipes it from her face, 

preparing to start the day again. 

She tells herself that someday, 

the freedom will be real. 

And all the light that filled her face,

is something she’ll one day feel. 

 

Until then… 

This is her brain. 

These are her chains. 

These are her truths. 

And this she is…………. me.

that will surely drown her again

The Way Back

hand touching glass
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She waits…

Lips scorched from burning coffee..

Eyes like poisoned hypnotism.

She spits sadness from her lonesome tongue.

And her hair wraps like a trap you can’t escape.

Her tears like iron weights,

rolling down her face like a rock slide.

Her heart swelling to the size of this tarnished

planet she waits on.

But she waits…

 

More filled with hope, than ever before.

Marry your heart to hers.

For she would wait a thousand lifetimes again,

just to touch the tip of your fingers.

 

She loves you for her first,

and she will only love you

as her last,

First real kiss…

Last real kiss…

Wet her lips with the moisture of an

anticipated rainstorm in the desert.

Find her in this forbidden forest….

For, she waits…

There.

Here.

Everywhere.

 

She sits in meditation.

In a frozen state, where you left her.

Still looking out a locked window…

Dancing around in her mind to the most beautiful of songs.

 

Empty hand held out for no one to touch,

except you.

For in you, she will always find herself,

And in herself,

she will always find you.

 

Oh my love,

I lost my way all the way to you,

And in you,

I found my way, all the way

back to me.

Waiting for You…

photo of person holding alarm clock
Photo by Acharaporn Kamornboonyarush on Pexels.com

My heart is a tumbling stone,

rolling fast towards you.

I wind the clocks forward by hand,

hoping time favors us,

and our time is due.

 

My blood trickles thick through my veins,

like sap from a tree.

And I’d let you cut me open,

so it could flow freely,

right out of me.

 

Roll around in baby’s breath,

and feel your hands claw down me.

The imprints of your lips, tattooed inside my body.

 

Battles here,

Battles there….

I’d probably love you through a hurricane,

And this country’s greatest of wars.

 

I’d crawl to you bleeding,

And still give a smile as my last task.

Ask you do you need anything,

And kiss your lips the last.

 

I’d sell it all,

move anywhere,

follow you to the ends of this sad planet..

To only find out,

you left the day before,

and my wait would go on,

But I would wonder….

Can it?

 

I’ll free myself from ties,

give you what you’re asking.

But then…

You give your love to me in full,

and that’s where the waiting dies.

 

Finally then will you spend your life with me,

hold my hand the whole way through?

Tell me that I’m beautiful,

while I take care of you?

 

I’ll always love you more each second,

I promise, never less.

As long as at the end of this,

We will, together, take our last breaths.