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A Morning Introspection...
15:42 May 28 2008
Times Read: 719

I have moments where I truly frustrate myself...



How do you describe an emotion that runs deeper than your own soul? How do you put into words that which has to be felt to be understood?



Sometimes, I don't know. I just know that I have the most beautiful darkness welling up inside me, and I have to write it out of me... get it on paper before I drive myself nuts.



One year ago today, I was as close to breakdown as I have ever been... I was truly broken, without a single drop of hope for my future. Filled with pain, and completely, utterly alone.



I’m not sure what it was exactly that drove me to the brink that day... pain and anger, despair and lonely were all seething just below the surface... and for the first time in my life, I honestly wanted to stop living... stop hurting... and stop trying... I think my soul cried tears of blood that day.



In a way, I transformed that day. I felt a very distinct hardening in my heart and spirit... and I felt a lot of myself die. I soldered on though... somehow took the pain and hid it from everyone, and watched my life move along without a stitch of joy. Months passed... pain deepened and mellowed... and I became resolute in my aloneness.



But how does one describe fate calling??? How do you put it in words, the feeling of awakening that allows a heart to breath again?



It started slowly... a couple of words here... I recognized one of my kind... The monster in me raised its head... Yes, we would have to watch this one... be careful... he could make me *feel*. And the Gods know, I didn’t want that.



Over a thousand miles separated us... and yet, the more we talked, the more we shared, the more those miles seemed to melt. I had moments where I could feel him standing behind me, enshrouding me in his darkness... and it was a darkness that felt comfortable... felt familiar... felt right.



Yearning broke open in me like a rotten cotton sack... a flood that I had to fight to contain. No, I told myself over and over again... I would not let this happen... My heart was too jaded to actually believe in anything anymore... and to let myself fall for someone... ANYONE... was beyond folly.



And then... I went three days without him. Three days that seemed to last an eternity, and made me realize that his darkness was doing more than watching over me... somehow, over the time we had been sharing, his presence had allowed me to heal myself in ways I honestly thought I would never heal.



I made a decision after that, knowing full well that I was most likely going to hurt for it. I decided to stop fighting... stop hiding... and just allow myself the few moments of happiness, no matter how short lived it might prove to be.



Even then, I wouldn’t allow myself to think that what I was feeling could ever be returned to me though... A jaded heart is a jaded heart... and how could someone like me ever be worthy of a love like that?



I can remember the first time I felt his love touching me though... The burning simmer, almost like a kiss... My entire being set afire... and I gave myself over to it, and him, without a second though. This was what you were made for, my soul told me... This is what you have waited countless lifetimes for... this is your fate.



And fate when on to prove it.



Exactly one week after we broke down and acknowledged the love between us, the universe decided to change up the story. Those thousands of miles would no longer be an issue... I was going home... fate was dropping me directly into his arms.



Agh... beautiful fate. I will forever remember our first embrace... The embrace of old friends who had missed one another... needed one another... loved one another.



It has been a year... and I am not the same woman that I was... I am loved, and I love... so deeply that sometimes I cant find the words for it. Its ok though... My Darkest hears all the things that are too beautiful to say.



I remade my fate somehow... by simply falling in love.



~A~

Unspeakable...
18:03 May 24 2008
Times Read: 726






When did our deepest, truest emotions become unspeakable? At what point do we become jaded enough to not say the things that might be the most important?



See, I know these answers when it comes to myself... I remember the very first time I didn't say something I should have... I let the moment pass, and walked away.



But what about the people in my life? What do they not tell me every day... what do they feel, at the core of them? And why is it so hard to say... its the deepest truth after all... it might be rather important.



I have found that I have a lot to learn about myself. The last couple of months have seen my life turned upside down, shaken up, and dumped on the hard ground just to see where the pieces would fall. But one of the things I have learned is that I have a very strong desire for honesty in my life. Not the generic kind... No, the kind that is hardest to manifest. The kind of honesty that could break a heart... or mend it.



Half-truths and lies... only ever hearing half of the story, and being "shielded" from things that might hurt me... those are the things I am moving away from.



The thing is... I would take ugly, heartbreaking honesty over a pretty lie any day.



Honesty… God's how I am learning to appreciate honesty.

A kind of personal moment...
18:00 May 24 2008
Times Read: 727






It is a different way of looking at life, that sets me apart from most others. I have managed over the years to overcome so much... to take my pain and use it as a filter... to hold it close... and to claim it as my own.



One of the things I have learned in life is that there are very few honest, happy moments that come along to be enjoyed. Moments that can be filed under "Perfect"... moments that will be remembered 80 years from now, and leave you still able to swell with the memory.



Yes... such moments are actually fleeting... real life barges in with its demands of hustle and worry. But by simply acknowledging such moments grants them a kind of power... a way of evoking that emotion again... a warm spot in this icy journey of life.



I have had a handful of those moments... and I am thankful for each one... I am thankful for the memory of basking in the desert sun as a child... Thankful for the memory of those first moments with each of my babies... thankful for the smell of rain, and the sounds of a porch swing, and the warmth of arms I will always long to be in.



There is so much craziness going on for me right now. I am dealing with fear, and loss, and change... but I can feel in my bones that I can create something better... something powerful... a life filled with the things and people *I* choose...



And that is not really something I have ever had before.



I know that I can be a very private person... I have always kept my personal life.. .well... personal. It is just the way I have always been. But I have a lot of very profound changes taking place right now, and to be honest, it would be dishonest of me not to acknowledge that.



But I am going to be OK.



I am so much stronger than I was before.



And hope that those that truly know me, will still be here when the dust settles.

Just bits... Introspective Blather.
19:58 May 15 2008
Times Read: 735

I live every day with the shadow of a woman I'm trying to kill. The weak part of me, the part that has been hurt... perhaps too deeply to ever fully heal again.



She is the complacent one... the needy one... the one who whispers that it is better to live with what you know than chance lonely forever... hers is the voice that cries out every time I take a step away from what is comfortable and into the dark and unknown.



And I hate her. Hate the memories she clings to, and hate the weakness she represents. I hate that I was once, long ago..... her.



I'm not sure why I still carry that voice inside me... the voice that tells me I am not good enough, or pretty enough, or interesting enough, or talented enough... But I have learned not to listen to hard anymore. Just because it is spoken inside me doesn't mean its true. And, even if it is sometimes true, that doesn't mean I have to let it drag me into self pity or loathing.



I'm stronger than that now. And I will always be

Seething...
21:44 May 14 2008
Times Read: 737




Ohhh.... fuck it.





Maybe its the weather... the moon phase... or the fact that I can feel life itching to spring to the surface all around me.



But I feel wild as living Hell.



I hate days like today... I have no outlet for the insanity seething just below my skin... the tide within me that wants to dance and scream and unloose the beasties deep within me.



I keep calm... I work on staying still. But a look in my eyes tells the story... I can’t hide that, no matter how hard I try. No matter how "normal" I pretend to be on days like today, the wild shows in my eyes...



Is it possible to come out of my skin and just BE. Be everything and all of it all at once?



Oh yes, a little voice tells me... quite possible. I know the triggers... know the buttons... a simple touch could mesh it all today... make me truly unleash...



...Fuck...



A memory bubbles to the surface... teeth and flesh... soft control... giving myself over to another who understands the seething...



Because that’s gonna fucking help... yea.



In the end... I keep control of it because I must... because I have to... because its not safe to go there right now.



...some day... I’ll come all undone...



But I hate the seething... and I think I hate the waiting even more.

Of Poetry...
21:44 May 14 2008
Times Read: 738




To write a poem, and be a poet, are two very different things. Anyone can really stick some rhyming words together, and be done with it. But a Poet... a poet feels her words. They move within her, and she uses them as a painter picks their pigments, creating color, form, and emotion by selecting just the right ones.



A poet experiences every word they write, and to be a poet means that you have to lay the darkest parts of your soul bare for wandering strangers to look at. That is never an easy thing... as a matter of fact, that is the hardest part of striving for this. To know that so many wander by and dismiss your words.



Every poem I have ever written has captured a part of me... I can reread something I wrote ten years ago, and tell you EXATALY what I was thinking and feeling when I wrote it.



In this world, where there are so many trivial things, and so many people walking around disconnected from themselves, I chose to walk the path of the Poet... Not because I am better than them, or because I think I have more to say... But because I know that if my words can touch and awaken just one person the the possibilities this universe holds, then my life will have meant something.



I have my Passion... And I truly hope you find yours.