too much is
and I curl
my body, a fist
you are loved,
you are loved —
but I’m not.
I am not,
and the lack
is too much.
I’m not about
is not my kind
I dwell in the
I’m alive in
the elliptical orbit,
travel of shadow,
circuit of seasons.
I’m not about
never will be.
is what is
beautiful to me.
seek and find
along gentle hills,
in uneven riverbeds:
full, round flesh.
I never was
|I'm hoping this isn't a full blown depressive episode. Felt a bit manic a few days ago but nothing too destructive. Now I'm not eating because I feel too overwhelmed to go to the store. I'm not particularly busy or stressed, just withdrawn. I have a date on Sunday but it's just kind of dissolving into the sea of all the guys who have been pressuring me to see them again. There really isn't anything I want to do or anyone I want to see. Things just feel so much harder than they are. My apartment has been a mess for a few weeks now. Knitting, cooking, reading have all been on the back burner for a couple days. My mind races and I can't focus. I just can't right now.|
Perched upon my mountaintop.
Looking down at all the people I once knew.
My influence is so weak, yet here I sit, watching it all. I know more than everyone but my voice isn't loud enough. I can tell everyone what I know but I'm too far away.
They see me here. They wave.
I wave back.
They love me.
But they're so far away.
So far away.
Lately things have been great. I wake up early and do little things to stay busy. I buy groceries, meal prep for the next few days, do dishes, put things away, do puzzles, yoga, drink countless cups of delicious tea, check the mirror to track my weight loss, enjoy the shows and hobbies that I put off while I was too sad to focus. As I leave for work in the evening, I look around my apartment and think "I'm nailing this."
I write down positive affirmations and short term goals. I'm rested and content. I'm ready for visitors at any given moment.
Today my insides are screaming. I'm exhausted and lonely. I can't even get in the shower so I just washed my bangs to look presentable for work. I probably smell bad. Nothing is wrong or different. I'm just not okay today. And that is okay.
I once slept with a married man in my old life, in a different town and state. He stopped by once again. I was his indulgence. An escape from his reality. He made plans to see me, now, in a different state, a different part of my life.
My past is so foreign. Even the oddities and novelties won't approach me.
I have no idea who I was or who I've become.
I have always been a secret.
the god in you
gently brushed closed
the sun’s eyelid.
the god in me
spent her daytime hours
pulling us back
the deep shadow
of the moon.
the god in the earth
held her breath,
only hoping —
at times, faith
is all we have
to fall upon.
the gods in us
in half-light stood,
a pinhole crescent;
and the god in me
in the evening glow.
the sky again
the sun is free.
A light sandwich and an orange for lunch
Twenty minute nap
A handful of peanuts for a snack
Example was his only means of authority.
Never a raised voice or fist
His absence was never a result of anger.
Numbers and logic
rather than emotion and gossip
I can only cite a few of his countless accomplishments
And acts of kindness
From the tear stained words of strangers.
Never mentioned within the house
Not for fear of boasting
But because restoring a historic hotel
while cradling the dumb, derelict, and dying
are as obligatory and trivial to him as paying bills and folding laundry.
We never knew
but were never surprised
when the neighbors told us how much his actions meant.
I want to beg him to stay.
He has to because I still need him.
But I won't let him know
he failed to prepare me for this.
These things don't happen to men like him.
I should not have to accept his Ninth Step.
I don't want to admit that I deserve it.
Lucas or Bill
But still no job.
Sometimes tinder dates lead to streaking with your hookup's girlfriend in a rainstorm.
I'm less unhappy than I was a few days ago.
I've never felt so sad, tired and lost that when a cop aimed his gun at my face I thought to myself, meh this is fine.
I spent ten years of my life finishing my degree, working in housekeeping, and living in less than desirable apartments. Friends have come and gone. Mostly gone. Romantic relationships have ranged from complicated to abusive. I can't remember a time when I had confidence that things would be okay.
Three months ago I moved to South Dakota. My boyfriend graciously allowed me to move in to his small apartment for the time being, and to keep my boxes piled high in his living room. The boxes do not contain anything valuable. Useless antiques, dresses that don't fit, craft supplies, and a ridiculous amount of makeup that I bought during a manic episode over a year ago.
I was optimistic. I have a college degree and proof that I'm a hard working, loyal employee. I had no doubt that I would be able to get a decent job right away.
I applied to over thirty jobs since I got here. Mostly receptionist jobs. I don't want to be a receptionist. I want a career that I care about. I want to work for an organization or a non-profit. I want to help the mentally ill, disabled, addicted. I want to assist the marginalized, the ones society gave up on. I want to go to bed at the end of the day and feel like I made a difference. I want to matter.
No one will hire me. I've had four interviews out of the endless applications that I filled out. Only one hired me. I couldn't commit to that job. I couldn't justify putting that much of myself into something I didn't care about. I don't want to go back to housekeeping. That's not why I came here.
I kept looking and applying. It was the first time in my life that I didn't immediately give up.
Now I'm giving up. I feel worthless.
It's so cold here. Trump is the new president. His cabinet is full of garbage. Standing Rock won a small victory only to have their water destroyed by an existing pipeline. I have no hope. The country is dying. Racism and misogyny are fighting full force.
I'm losing my health insurance next month. I'm running out of money. Food doesn't taste good. I haven't slept in my boyfriend's bed in weeks. I don't sleep well anyway. I'm stuck inside my head day after day, and I can't stand the person in the mirror. Every second that I'm awake and sober feels like an hour. I don't know who I am or who I want to be. I'm running out of options. I'm so tired. I feel like letting go.
I was the same soul
when this began
the words in my veins
but more arrive
ten years slipped
past like a wave
there was always
a home for me
in poetry and in
this imaginary place
this decade is
the one I am built on
ten years from now
I will still be
this soul, this
human, this sister
I will still be a dreamer
you'll know me
by my words
and my seasons
if we ever passed
I will know you by
your constant light
my love songs are
for the ocean and
for you, if you
meet you ten years
down the road.
I never mean to hurt people. It just happens. I know my actions cause pain. Things aren't black and white. There is no longer a right and wrong like there was when I was a child.
Don't take things that don't belong to you.
Share with others.
Don't say mean things.
Keep your hands and feet to yourself.
Don't cut in line.
Treat others the way you want to be treated.
It was simple. Don't hurt people. There is no longer a line separating the two. Now I try to go by the rule of "cause minimal suffering."
There are not enough words in the english language to describe different types of love or the way it can change over time. People can fall in and out of love. People can love people they never thought they could love. Love can fluctuate rapidly over periods of time. Love can surprise and frighten us. People can love multiple people equally. Some people only love themselves.
I loved someone but not as much as he loved me. Some days I felt like my love for him could grow into what he felt for me. I just needed more time, I thought. There was not a single thing I disliked about him. We didn't always see eye to eye and I didn't see a future with him. I knew my heart wasn't in it but I didn't want it to be true. I wanted to feel the same way. I felt defective. While I felt comfort, I wanted passion. When we were together, I wanted to be alone. When he initiated sex, I wanted sleep.
He told me it was the worst thing that anyone ever did to him. He called my friends "faggots" and accused me of wanting to have sex with an asexual. He told me I "shit on" him and repeatedly asked why I was doing this to him. He told me I was phony and that I am a different person around my friends. He said I try too hard to be cool. He said I used him. He told me to fuck off too many times to count.
In three months, he gave me too much power. He expected too much. I didn't mean to hurt him.
I believe everything he said. I feel like an uncaring monster.
Things really fell apart these past few weeks. I tried to cut ties with a toxic person who was sucking the life out of me when she announced that my best friend raped her.
I tried to comfort her. I offered to take her to the police station. Though her story changed several times, the details didn't add up, and it was drastically out of character for him to do such a thing, I believed her. Unfortunately, his side of the story made more sense. He didn't change the details or the sequence of events. He showed me text messages that contradicted things that she told me.
She threw a fit when I told her I needed space. I never told her that I doubted her story, rather that I was having trouble dealing with the fact that someone I knew and loved for six years is a rapist and that this was just too much drama for me to handle right now. She accused me of abandoning her and screamed about the fact that he and I referred to each other as best friends. I suddenly realized that she was completely obsessed with me and this was her way of getting him out of the picture so that I would have more time to take care of her.
I'm terrified of her now.
Meanwhile in my life, I finally decided to stop doubting the state of my relationships, to simply love my significant other and trust that he loves me. It was time to end the relentless distance and move in with him. I had never been so ready for anything. It was the first time in our relationship that I ever made a decision without first begging for reassurance. It felt like a major milestone for me.
He broke up with me while I was driving.
I cried for hours, knowing that our good times together had to come to an end, but also mourning the life I had envisioned for myself, escaping this town and becoming the person I honestly believed I could be, relaxing into stability and comfort of the only man I ever truly fell for.
Instead I reverted back to my old ways. I smoked dope, popped pills, and drank with Keli, like I always do when I can't handle the truth. I slept with old friends and bartenders. I'm the same person I was before I met him. He was a five-year pipe dream.
It seems as though my life has completely fallen apart. I'm stuck. I will never have enough money to leave this place on my own. The most important person in my life finally realized that he is better off without me. My best friend may or may not be a rapist. I unintentionally hurt an obsessive, unstable woman while trying to do what was best for my well-being.
When I told Bartender that I don't have any friends left, he said "Sure you do." I looked into his eyes, pleading for compassion. He pointed to my drink and said "You have a friend right there in front of you."