Back here, realty in my eyes clear, I shove furniture out of the way, constantly sweeping all animal hair and dust, leaving none stray. There’s this cloud that follows me around, so I zip…then zag…swiping dirty surfaces with a rag, until…
BAM!
The Cloud
F
A
L
L
S
Overwhelmed, breath caught in my throat:
This is it!
It’s DONE.
My eyes close as I drop my broom, rushing one hand over my heart, the other to cover my mouth, salty drips off my nose drop between my breasts.
Caught in time, going nowhere as my crime.
No! I say NO.
Deliberate action.
No more passive reaction.
I’d rather be alone
than in this kind of marriage limbo.
I don’t know how or when, but a change is coming. Damn it, I’m sick to death of running.
I want the attention of a kind caress!
I need a furtive dive into a deep kiss, where roving hands finger passionate bliss!
I wonder sometimes why I can’t just believe that someday something will click and someone will notice I deserve more…dick
The intense rains of the southwest desert monsoon season flooded the dry and the brittle to plump up, and the desert bloomed for a short time, while the wet lasted. The rest of the year, no matter how despretely hot, life prevails, feeding on the medicine given during the year’s toughest parts.
You made me bloom.
You rained in a vibrant excitement this spring and my summer shined fun firey hot. God, I want your spirit! Makes me lose my breath.
Wish I were normal, could handle playing it cool…no, no, no, I’m love’s fool.
I get bad brain days where no matter how I push upbeat, positive thoughts, reality keeps punching me out, but I will keep fighting my demons. When he is around the tougher it is to fight, so today I’m cleaning across the street, and tonight I will road trip with a friend.
A side promise to myself, I will NOT delete my shit…my muse is too important, he’s the inspiration that brings light to my night.
No more weak, no more speaking fucking meek, I know what I need.
I need ME to stop being a pussy and find my cheetah: direct, confident, and fast as lightning when chasing what it wants to eat for sustenance, for brain candy.
I’m taking back my control to reestablish connection with my soul…Even drowning, I want to be able to dance a groove on the ocean floor!
Control. I will own my control. A wheeled wonder woman ready to pave my own road, that’s what I want to be.
I’ve been through a lot over the last three decades since I’ve been an adult. I moved umpteen times, but despite the states having different weather, I could never escape myself. I rode darkness like a wave through days as if all in me was OK. All-encompassing love became an unattainable dream, never to be reality. And I settled into my bed, and I satisfied myself…that was fine til I die, which, of course, will be coming soon, spinal cord injury makes old a body like mine, I think, God, how much longer can I survive?
You…then, you…your energy electrified my insides with passion not pain!
I find myself feeling things I CANNOT explain.
I want for something I know is not for someone like me.
For the first time, I know why I don’t feel complete.
The gulp that gets stuck in my throat, taking away my breath…the need to feel you, to have you squeeze me, drives me insane.
The crave almost hurts. I can’t turn you off, the feel of you so sweet, I keep hitting repeat…
A heart walled in by bars staked down to my gut and piercing me when I talk…that’s what my pain has done with time. A full-time job to upkeep, but only sleep solicits a sense of lovely peace from a brain that hates, a load of loathe that I can’t escape.
I want to be different. I want to embrace glowing! I swallow hard that feeling.
I’m always trying to find a way out…out of my brain, out of my house, out of my marriage, out…out…out DAMN spot! Out past demons that retain too much control! I rule my life!
You are the blanket that I sleep with, my cosy cover that protects me from my nightmares (the ones that used to make me yell when I sleep). Security singing me goodnight with a warm caress, the corner wrapped around my chin while dreams roll movies vivid…sexy…coming unexpected, coming…naturally, organic moments I don’t create, moments my brain has its way, and you’re next to me, kissing my desires like they matter…as for me, my lips eat you like my favorite treat, always so luscious, so sweet, especially when I’m laughing, cheeks sore from smiling so wide.
Yes, my blankie is so very important in my world. A childishness I cradle just before the clock strikes midnight, like magic will happen and one day, some day my blanket will come to life giving meaning to all my strife…
I know, I know, yeah right, lol.
Eyes finally closing while I write after a true storm that knocked out all power in my town, I have a truth: I found an out! I’m going to start cleaning across the street at my English teacher friend/neighbor’s house (she’s separating from a guy who’s contentious:( yet, she and I agree that I need a way to find FREE!
Dark shadows be damned, this morning as a block party began, I didn’t think I could muster the courage to go, so I asked myself, If he could, what do you think he would’ve said???
And I held his power tight, my mind ready to do that party right! And I rocked the night (a gummy helper to keep my anxiety bugs outta sight;) chatting with a political candidate and his beautiful Guatemalan wife, I mended beloved bridges I destroyed with old friends.
I used a little bit of latent moxie, and I’m triumphant! I made a positive memory!!! In the world of anxiety and PTSD, triggers are negativity grown like brain-weeds, strangling reality, so good memories mean more than gold, so precious that life without them is madness.
With my other sleeping until his hangover, tonight I’m happy cleaning alone, listening to my favorite album, dancing when no one sees, relishing my tiny success story, waiting to warm up my dreams with a lullaby, eyes dropping to us dancing cheek-to-cheek as I fall asleep.
Twenty years ago, for almost ten, when anxiety got the best of me, his presence brought a sense of safety, security that he’d never leave me. Time made jade a dark daily demeanor with an insipid tone and harsh evaluation of every word I say, every single thing I do. A decade of me feeing dead (except for my kids), ten years of “fuck hope” because Netflix limited series lineup got me fine with laying alone in bed, ten fucking years of ugly I carried inside, wondering, Am I really here? Am I breathing?
Upon a Transcendental moment, the light beamed so bright, it flowed from my eyes changing my sight.
Now, I own a power I don’t understand yet, a perspective differing from my own…
YES, outside the one he’s been able to control.
I’m empowered to take on his many ‘big dick days’ with something beautiful instead of hating myself for being myself, which obviously is someone he doesn’t like.
I want to be fair, but after 20 years, I experienced it all many, many times before, nothing is new. Even though his physical body is here every day after work, he does not participate, with the exception of the occasional short moments of loving on the kids.
I’m a burden, but expected to be warm.
Days like this, I’m glad I have my blog because he really hurt me today and I just want to run away.
I found a moment of magic along the sunset walk with my son. While he played, I watched as the lyrics singing in my brain bloomed a rose on a mushroom head.
“Inside the Heart a Hidden Language”Undiscovered County
“Inside the heart a book of matches.”
(Gratitude streams flow through my soul for the wizard who helped me find my own life-light out of the deadest darkness. I’m stronger.)
Trying to erase this doesn’t ease the pain of what is next, so I am putting it back up as a reminder that I do have fucking strength if I’d just allow myself to speak…
I wish I could handle conflict instead of literally hiding from it in my closet pretending to organize the chaos I’m in. No one knows, no one sees the battle raging in me.
With the momentum of being shot out of a cannon, I soared into the clouds, into the stars, hung onto the moon for a flip, a laughing dodo flying to fall when gravity threw me to splat on my ass in the same place as if I never left, a rock in my throat that makes me choke: I will never feel that high again.
