Seeing red
Anger flooding my veins. So hot and thick it invades my body with it venom. I can hear the sound of the blood in my ears. My hands are shaking. They clench air and round into fists. My knuckles turn white as my fingers squeeze into the meaty flesh of my palms.
My breathing catches as I mull over your pointed words. They bounce around inside my head and join in the chorus of everything else I have ever deemed wrong about me.
I can see you standing there, smug. You know your words hit home and you relish the pain I find myself in. The very knowing that you are satisfied with yourself speeds up the lethality of the anger racing throughout my form.
You have no idea what real pain feels like. The kind that breaks you out in cold sweats in the dead of night. And all you yearn for is someone to breathe on the back of your neck as they hold you and whisper the things all children need to hear when bathing in such fear. You know nothing of the agony that comes with such pain as everything in you craves death. You beg for it as though that will somehow be the mercy you have sought all these years. And then the anger comes. It rages forward to ward off the pain and fights fiercely to protect its ward. You.
Anger becomes your savior now. Your knight. Your blanket when all becomes cold.
Anger is what sweeps away the tainted memories and fever dreams of childhoods marred with despair. Anger is what keeps you alive and stokes the fires deep in your belly to move the limbs up the steep incline that is life. No. You know nothing. You use words that cut and bleed me as though somehow seeing me bleed makes me real for you. To you. Of you.
And knowing they cut me open, exposing all the wires and trinkets that hold me together is what truly brings forth your glory. Seeing me cringe as my anger slips forward as the mask I wear in the face of all you created. No. You know nothing. You love this. You love seeing my face change from something so quiet and peaceful it couldn't possibly be real. And you dig your nails into my arms in hopes of invoking this very red hot rage you now see coming forward. You wanted this. To see what it looks like when my eyes fill black and my mouth sets to a grimace. When my words come out in some twisted snarl as I pull forth every hateful thing I can find and use them as a battering ram to break you open.
You love this part because then you see that deep down I am no better or worse than you. We are equals. And you can sleep easier at night knowing I am not on some platform higher than you. I am not sleeping peacefully at your side dreaming of a future neither of us will achieve. No. I am here. In the dirt, in the mud, in the grit with you. And you know nothing.
Now
Standing at the door again
Half stepped out while the rest is in
Feeling the pressure behind my eyes
Will I make it through my good byes
Standing stoic before the wall
Remembering what it was like to fall
How it felt as easy as breathing it in
Will I ever trust again
Maybe one day it won't cut me open
Maybe one day I'll remain outspoken
Maybe one day I won't raise the fight
Maybe one day I will get it right
Holiday
This time last year was all about you.
Your smile. Your laugh. The way your arms felt safe.
This time last year we were planning our new life. Laying the foundation for our dreams.
Our home. Our family.
This time last year was full of laughter, promise and love.
And when the end came all to swiftly thereafter, we lay in ruin.
The dust has now settled and the world continues to spin.
We have bandaged our scars and the bleeding has stopped.
We no longer talk as friends or lovers do.
But, my heart aches still for this time last year.
Choose
Once again she is given a choice. A fork in the road. To the left it remains barely worn. Only one or two sets of prints are discernible. To the right lay the road far more traveled. There are signs and people flooding it as she silently observes. She turns her head back and forth. Left or right. Hard or easier. The promise of adventure turns her feet to the left. And just like that, she’s made her choice.
Knot Safe 4 work
Is this right? This rush. This pleasure. The twist of pain.
The rope stings as it moves across my skin. Flesh caught against the fibers as it pulls to wrap itself about my waist. A tug here. A slight jerk there. The way her fingers tie the knots about my wrists is enough to bring my lip between my teeth.
The rope drags up my forearms. She knots it about my chest. Each time she moves it tighter sends a shiver through me.
All tied up and nowhere to go. My insides knot to mimic the ropes I am bound in.
Who knew how delicious such knots could be.
Vast
I've never been good with not knowing something. The scary unknown feels like a void no one wants to fall into. Yet, that's exatcly what transpired this year of 2019. The world I had been building towards has dissolved. It gave way the way the earth opens up beneath us during an earthquake. And now I find myself floating in this vat of the unknown. It's dark and sticks to me as I desperately try to reach for something to pull myself out with. But, all I do is make little shadowed waves. I am in this place of the unknown for now. I may as well make myself at home.
I no longer have a distinct life plan that used to include a house by 40, a partner by 35 and a career so good it makes your teeth ache from smiling. I simply have a rough draft now of possible goals I've set with no date in mind and places I intend to see with no concern for funds to do so. Life is open to me now in ways I had believed to be closed before. In my world ending, a new dawn broke through. Do not mistake my milld fear of this unknown world that I find myself in as an ending. No, this is simply the beginning of a whole new book I never believed I would write. I am no longer fixated on a future I was never truly invested in to begin with. All the 'shoulds' and the 'musts' fade away to background noise as I finally see things as I wish them to unfold. I am simply allowing the unknown to assist in mapping out my path and my future.
I had not anticipated making it this far. I was certain that with my addictions and my trauma, I would be dead far before 30. I had done everything in my power to make it so. And yet, one day of no particular importance, I woke up and began fighting for myself. I fought to live. That was my first dance with the unknown. My first step off the high rise and into open space where I had no tether nor help in finding my way forward. Or back. Facing the unknown is a process we tend to repeat endlessly. Often much to our trepidation and resistance. We prefer our comfort zones to making steps outside of the boxes we, ourselves, have created. But, I promise you. If you just took one step outside of the imaginary lines, you would find the most beautiful world of unknown possibilities.
As I float in my vat, I begin to see everything through varied lenses. I see myself as I once was and what I believed I wanted. I see myself as I am becoming and how it is like a paint by numbers. I am uncertain who I will be but I find that who I once was is the shadow from which my colors are drawn from. I could not face the unknown with the gusto I have in me without the person I used to be as my outline. You see, I found myself fighting change for so long that I began to believe the lies about myself. I believed I was never going to matter. I believed I was never going to achieve the goals I so desperately wanted. I believed this was in fact, IT. But, when my world gave way and I tumbled much like Alice must have after the White Rabbit, I found the way out. I found the way home. Home is the unknown for the time being. The ever changing, ever evolving, and ever present unknown. I am ill prepared for what is to come in 2020 but I could not be more excited. I will welcome all the discomfort, joy and humor that the unknown bestows upon me. And I will wear any scars with dignity and pride. For when we welcome the unknown as an old friend rather than a monster, we change our lives forever.