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On The Cusp of A Breakdown or Break-through

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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…..

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Peace In The City

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…..

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I Stayed For The Flowers

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.

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Let Them Come

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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.

So, let them come.

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Posted on by thetruthandtheliesofthejourney

Run

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Run

Run away little one

from the monsters under your bed

Run away little one

from the noises that breed dread

Run away little one

from the hereditary stupor

Run away little one

from life’s ever-changing youth-neuter

Run away young man

from mother nature’s inevitable change

Run away young man

from innocence as it becomes estranged

Run away young man

from life’s beginning design of your cage

Run away young man

from hormones as they begin to disengage

Run away Gentleman

from the agony those around you inflicted

Run away gentleman

from the way your heart’s conflicted

Run away Gentleman

from everything that’s not self-scripted

Run away Gentleman

from anything that’s not easy and predicted

Run away sad man

from this mess you’ve made

Run away sad man

from my love and all that it has displayed

Run away sad man

from the stabs of imperfection with their sharp blades

Run away sad man

from your own mind’s disappointment and the bed where you now lay

Run away old man

from the signs that you missed

Run away old man

from the regrets that you now list

Run away old man

from the sadness that you now try to resist

Run away old man

from all of her tears you created but now dismiss

Run away old man

from the haunting memories of her kiss

Run away old man

from the tic-tock of the clock

it dwindles down faster now

as the last ship comes into dock

No more running now

you can’t change your past

you can’t change the black & white, nor the contrast

You’re a memory now, flowers lay at your feet

A straight-line breeze of a life…left behind incomplete..

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The One

It’s the power in the breaking of a heart that can create the strength that opens your eyes.

It’s the revelation of a moment realized when you are taking that necessary time to be alone with yourself, so you can learn how to be alone with yourself.

It’s the confidence of the first step forward, when you finally stand on your own two feet once again.

It’s the strut in that step when you step back into the jump rope of life that kept on moving without you.

It’s the humbleness of faith, even when bad news stacks on top of bad news.

It’s the smile in the eyes, when you come across someone who completely steals your heart, when you never expected to share it with anyone again.

It’s the butterflies when you are finally face to face in the perfect moment, and your lonely lips meet another’s so sensually.

It’s the birds chirping on a superbly painted mountainside as you walk hand in hand down the trail.

It’s the dogs meeting, and it seeming like they had known each other since birth.

It’s the yearning for another moment when you are apart.

It’s the poetic justice of a finely swooped love letter.

It’s the sexy well-placed hand on your back as you feel heat fill the room.

It’s the waiting for the right time, and being ok with that.

It’s the getting to know every part of them and yourself with them, before intimacy.

It’s the problem solving when obstacles arise.

It’s the soft candles, perfect music, great conversation and that specific kind of kiss.

It’s the ravishing each other after all of the waiting, knowing that it’s right.

It’s the long-lasting, sexy moans, thrusting, and rolling around, and the tracing of the body so attentive.

It’s the after ambiance, holding hands, smiling, and feeling right for the first time in a long time in your life.

It’s making hard choices, and not being afraid to for once, knowing there’s a partner there to back you up.

It’s the support through scary times, taking care of each other, and feeling grateful to do it.

It’s the forgiveness when mistakes are made.

It’s the compromise when differences are discovered.

It’s the can’t wait to see you. You can’t wait to see me.

It’s the sharing a home together, making a home together, and loving what that looks like.

It’s the present moment. Living moment by moment, soaking it all in.

It’s the true love. It’s the leave me wanting. It’s the knowing…knowing you’re right where you’re supposed to be, right at this very moment.

It’s the blessing, after some lessons, and it’s mine.

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Ghost Lover

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You rip my blouse without even touching me..

Sweat drips from my body without a single finger laid upon it.

How can I be running down this path in the woods feeling both euphoria and the deepest sadness

I have ever felt, at the same time..

You arch my back without being in the same room with me.

My thoughts of you seem to tide me over until the next time our fingers are puzzle-pieced together

Once again..

You lips must be dry and empty, because they haven’t been placed upon mine in some time now.

What is this love but a clawing in my skin?

I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.

I want it to rip me open like a machete hacking its victim with care and caress.

I want it to take me to a daydream that is inescapable.

Unavoidable…inevitable….ineluctable…ineliminiable….inexorable….

In all of the ways that I have tried to fight it, I want it to consume me in a finality and completeness.

You run your hands violently around my throat without even speaking to me.

I won’t stop wanting.

I am stuck in this eternal loop of yearning.

I could speak unlimited words and ways that your lack of want makes me want more.

It causes me to disgust myself so much so that I don’t who is looking back at me in the mirror that

I regularly make it every point to avoid.

For God’s sake…..want me.

Want me or end me. For good.

Ravish me or push me off this cliff.

Because the pulsating within my body has became too much to bare.

Too much to relieve.

You burn my skin with those eyes. They don’t look at me. And when they do,

they burn a hole straight through me.

I’m reaching out for you.

Strip me bare and naked and do what you must.

In an instant, I’ll drop what task I am pretending, and I will rake this kitchen table of each item.

If you would only slam our bodies into it.

You take everything from me without even noticing you took it..

I am swollen and sore, without you even getting up from your chair.

My imagination is drowning in thoughts of places I am not.

A preoccupation of sorts that is destroying me when I snap back to this empty room.

I try to remember what our hands feel like clasp together….

I chain myself to this chair to prevent myself from making the first move again.

I’ve never been so rejected and so loved and so invisible at the same time.

I don’t love me right now.

I don’t hate me right now.

I don’t know me right now.

Do you?

I am not coming down off this ledge until you make me.

Ball up your fist, and punch me right in the gut.

It is the equivalent of what I feel when I slip through these halls on my own.

I just felt your fingers slowly drift down my chest and stomach….

But you are asleep.

You have ghost hands that follow me around..

Sensing my yearning for just a moment of intimacy from just the tips of your fingers,

Just the slight wetness from your lips.

I want to dilate and descend your pupils just by the moan from the very throat that you are choking

the life from.

Claw these clothes right from my body.

They are simply in the way of the condensation that just your hello drinched me in.

I hear the echoes of our voices from long ago roaming these halls.

They are calling out to us to dance carelessly together, not worrying about the troubles that

Await us tomorrow.

Echo back ghost lover.

Scream into me. Widen my thighs with your standoffishness.

Slap me back into this room with you,

Or continue to break my neck with your silence.

Either way, I love.

Bulletproof, I take every stab. Every claw. Every suffocation you create in me.

Ghost lover, I’ll still be here. Dagger on my side.

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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.

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Waiting for You…

photo of person holding alarm clock
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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.

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This Love is My Forever (6-25-18)

i hate nothing about you with red heart light
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Each day she yearns for him,

And his perfect touch.

And each day she must be without him,

Becomes a little too much.

She can see their future,

Like it’s staring her right in the face.

She tries to connect the missing pieces,

and struggles to find her place.

He gives her hope that all the numbness

could get weaker,

And in return, he says he loves her, which

makes her fall even deeper.

If anyone were to ask her,

what she sees when someone says love,

she’d quickly say his mysterious name, and the father above.

She fights to get her freedom, and finally

remove all the tethers.

Because she won’t hesitate to say to the world,

that with him, she would spend forever.

My love, sit down and relax, and put up your feet.

Your day has been long, full of stress, and the mountains so steep.

Let me cook you a meal, and massage your back.

Always encourage you, and keep you on track.

Let me kiss you each day, and remind you

that love is here always.

And let me stand by you forever, for the

rest of both of our days.

Can you see it? I can. Each day lived out fully.

And each day, my love grows stronger,

As well as these forces that pull me.

Always look at me, exactly the way that you look

at me right now.

With those beautiful dark eyes.

Loving me in silence,

with an abounding vow.

I’ll never give up on you, and you do the same.

And this love will defeat darkness, doom and gloom,

Always and eternity,

For all our remaining days….