cracking

stuck in memories
stuck in pain
nightmares flood
going insane
he comforts me back to sleep
i hold onto slight light
nobody can promise me
that i’ll be alright.

winter’s end seems close
and that’s the hope that i need
to keep getting back up
to stand on my feet
warm words and held hands
his smile thaws my scowl
i hope that i show the person
i know i can be.

my wings spread and i dry
out in the sun
i can’t help but cry
a release, so much tension
juggling too much
i feel like i’m cracking.

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Sensitive

I sit here, unhappy
wondering what I can do
to feel better.
Sleep comes to mind,
but it sometimes
makes me feel heavier and
more sad.
It’s so quiet, it is driving
me crazy.
Music could help, but
even that often hurts to
listen to.
So sensitive to input.
But, my body, spirit and
mind need more.
Something.
Stimulation.
Keep moving,
always.

soothing terror

walking along, feeling warmth
i witness the presence of
a turquoise sky and copper
light tracing full clouds
i enter through a cave
and i find myself there
talking with my ancient self
i realize that i am here,
i am alive,
to love and to be loved
to embrace those that surround me
and to comfort them when
terror comes alive.

rest

i rest because
that is all i can do
when it feels like the world
has me held up to its open mouth
ready to chew up my bones
to end my rebellious mind

i reach out for a hand

i have a hand to hold
and for that, i am fortunate
but i wonder about those
who feel like i do
who have nobody to talk to

and that breaks my heart
and i recognize how lucky i am

he holds me and we cry together
he holds me and i can rest
he holds me and i feel hope
i want to continue fighting
so that i can be here, for us

i want to feel strong
so that i can be here for anyone
that needs me.

lost in chaos – purpose

he sat across the table from me
in a room filled with warm light
gentle music and soy-based food.
while gulping down our milkshakes
he said that I should finish what
I had started a few years back, so
within days I was on the phone
setting up the structure necessary
to graduate with a BFA.
a couple of years later,
my brain soggy from the many hours
of oil painting and essay writing,
I walked away with my degree.

then days passed,
months…

I have been unsure
of what steps to take next.

slight movements
some causing drastic change
but somehow never drastic enough.
I rearrange the pieces of my life
while wondering
what change will be the right change
for me

the passion that once filled
the movements my hands made
while sitting across from
a canvas
has been mostly dormant,
arriving for brief moments.

I push, believe me, I push,
just to get up and breathe
each day.

to be me, to be okay…

I am lost in chaos.
I am working on gathering the strength
needed
to feel alive enough
to continue living.

purpose.