Overactive

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Imagine being home on an ordinary day, washing, sweeping, and organizing while peace-filled.  The sounds of the others in the house keep a hum and drum in the air…

I face my work with diligence, my brain playing some word game.  It helps the time tick by quick because I zone myself into a safe place, as if I’m alone…

Stealthy, tall and dark, his shadow hovers in the sunlight.  He reaches big hands out, grasps my neck, and…

SCREAM!!!  That’s what I do, throwing all the neat folded laundry to the ceiling fan above me…

I grab my heart as clothes find ground, shaking I recall to myself, “It’s just your husband, you knew he was around!”

Overactive Amygdala:  Fight or Flight

That’s my brain’s natural reaction to unexpected stimuli and the clinical term that fits me just right!  I get it now…I don’t fight, so I know…

I prefer to stay a bird in FLIGHT

dreams drained

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I awoke to an ocean of dreams drained from my brain, a dehydrated mess remains, parched beyond thirst with only salt crystals twinkling, left behind.

I haven’t slept in days, in and out of a cloudy stooper, overthinking everything.

With sand in my mouth and love in my heart, up and down, over and out, my eyes must sign off.

(Like grounding myself again for wanting too much, regardless of how it breaks my heart and steals my breath, I have to stop looking at what I’m missing. Empty and cold, alone with a wrong way changing in me, buried down I go, so sorry for having bothered anyone. I feel something coming, and I’m so scared, I’ve lost my dare)

C’est La Vie

I don’t know how to love, too scared, I run.

Silliness

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Time to change. Erase the sad. My shit’s bad. This ends at last. I’ve lost my ability to see an outcome that I believe, even though I’ll get these momentary peeks into feeling connected, then, I’m the same. At home alone with no one coming, no one caring.

Each day the sun’s rays are shorter, night so much longer. It’s happening again. I fear the impulse to run and hide. I hate when I’m not strong enough and fight with goodbye.

If I Could

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There’s a look.

If I were weird, I’d screenshot them all, lighten up my dark even more.

There’s a spark.

In your eye, a reflection of knowing, as if omniscient, a glint in your grin that says, “I know what’s coming, don’t you worry.”

What I’d say…

If I Could…

Do you have a happy place you can close your eyes and go to after a long day, into a longer night?

I’m sure you do.

But, my wish upon a shooting star is you use me like a stress ball if your night is hard.

Imagine my hands on you while I’m snug in your arms.

Shooting Star

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Like a shooting star, you grant wishes by being who you are. I struggle to believe in a far-off future in which my fingers could play your keys, but you make it possible for me to experience the delectable taste of a magical dream.

What you just released, touches me…

Each time

arrests my heart

for a moment

as I catch my breath,

leaving me

glow-smiling,

belly bubbles bursting,

urging love-chuckles

to jiggle the soul

out from feeling old.

As is my wont, when I can’t sing what I really want to convey, I use someone else’s voice to carry my ideas away:

I’ve got to see you again!

(I adore this version;)

a slip of my tongue

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Can a tongue need?

A slip of my tongue this way, a suck-slide that way, then the lip bite teeth-rest that I get as I picture your head, your lips blowing music through a tube, your tongue shaking with your sexy hoooowl to the moon! I sware my tongue needs to collide with you.

I’ve imagined us. I examine your lips move silent at night beneath my covers, breath hot, my eyes shining at you, and sometimes, if I stay to long, if to hear your voice, I turn the sound up over snoring, I find my tongue licking salty drops from off my thick lips, needing to touch your lips 💋

a dab

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They haunt, my demons they bite!

They crawl through my brain at night–

my shadow lost in darkness,

An invisible shade too weak at twilight to speak–

alone…I can’t fight…

I wish I could bottle your essence,

rub a dab of your exuberance upon my tongue!

Then, I’d bust my demon ghosts on the inside where they hide.

Maybe learn how to appropriately love.

a dream away

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As if set to chant-speed, the visions of you beat in my brain:

Steady flashes of your smile beat with each breath, a pounding heart beneath my breast applauding the splendor that radiates through me when I see you, whether you look at me through a screen, behind a mirrored mask, or bathed in dreamy-blue, I always adore you, as if our love were true, a reality I can hold…

someday…

and off I go!

A dream away through my days.

a burning gratitude

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As the season falls, warmth in my world is as elusive as a hummingbird’s wings. I’m tiny, so my bones shiver in the Indiana damp-cold. I fear winter, like death, knowing it’s just the next step. I tend to hibernate in my cave, alone in my mind, waiting desperate for spring, when the sun brings a blaze of shine and I can feel its warmth! Then, my heart can again embrace the possibilities in the next new day.

Despite the darkness of the shadows creeping me out within this season of doubt and world chaos, YOU are a sun who’s shine stimulates waves of warmth to flow through my whole body as you invigorate my brain to pulsate such pleasure, my heart bursts tingles in between nerves in me, and like a sparkler’s fire pops, you create bursts of a warm happiness, a burning gratitude that I get to feel you penitrate my soul.