o, Mary~

Behold- your little child

The Messiah

Here to save our lives

Fear not,

have no fear—

let not your worries

trouble you

This little child is

The Great pow’rful

Healer, Savior, Ruler

Counsellor, Emmanuel

 ‘God with us!’

Go thee, therefore

and prepare for his,

Jesus’ birth.

#Rejoice!

Merry Christmas!

Seasons Greetings To One & all.

My uncle had taken me to the park

he was the only adult

who would play tag

or ride down the big slide with me

if i got scared

uncle was mama's baby brother

but i do not know why

she called him baby

he was a teenager

a gazillion years older than me

he drove us back home

drumming his hands on the steering wheel

singing along to the radio

adding in potty words

to make me giggle

when we got back

mama and daddy were waiting

to ask us if we had fun

and to soon

it was time

to hug uncle goodbye

you are going to be a great

dad someday, i said

he smiled

ruffled my hair

but what he did not say

is that he already had a kid

and it was me.

I just need to get this off my chest. It's all been weighing me down more than usual. Right there. Stuck, barely still alive, barely still bleeding in the back of my mind. But it is there. It is that much.. It is still alive.

It's been awhile. The time since.. It's one equation I continue to avoid so very well. That sum has no purpose beyond it's pain. It only hurts. It only burns. It only saddens. It doesn't really matter what distance, or time rests between then, and now. All that matters is that it's over. All that matters is that somehow, I managed to survive.

I wish that it was easier to express the sincerity in the stern melody of my voice when I say, there was only one other way that it could've ended. The ulterior ending would have cost me nothing less than my life. It's still a miracle to me. It hasn't gotten easier though as much as it's gotten easier to stand. All of it, it's so heavy. It outweighs my ability to cope all the time. I continue to find myself stuck underneath it all somehow. Some days I feel buried even deeper then I was when I was in the midst of the misery. I know that most likely, it is. Because having dealt with it all was enough.. but having to hold all of it, having to carry it, having to endure it all alone has made it unbearable. And I am so very alone. Nobody, not even those that are closest to me have even the slightest idea what happened. Nobody has even the slightest idea what I went through, and above all what I lost.

In the end, yes I survived. Yes I overcame it all. But there's just so much.. there's just too much that was never the same after that. Theres too much that never would be.

Now of days, when people ask me what's been going on, or how I have been, or whether or not I'm doing well, it's rare that I feel obliged to give an answer that contains any real amount of the actual depth of the truth that had occurred in detail. On occasion, I've designated myself to be open. To let someone in. Anyone. It gets so tiring holding it all inside with all that weight pushing, and pressing down on me so intently.. It's hard for me at this point to seek refuge in such a desolate world. One in which every possible rescue has its own priorities, and dilemmas that cloud them of their concern.

All these people.. they come, and they go. They appear, and then they fade. They care.. and then they're either stabbing you in the back, or they're nowhere to be found. Often, when the time comes for them to suddenly seize their existence in my world, they take with them more of me, and more of my trust then I had when they'd entered my life. I've reached a point now where I know my limit. I know what to give, and what to keep hold of. What to protect, and keep safely in hiding. Tucked out of reach, and out of sight in the clutches of my chest. When they ask me about that part of my past, I'm only able to provide such a minuscule answer in comparison to the true amount of demolition I endured. Any, and all details become lost, or diluted of the actual consequences, and consumption that took place. I give them only enough for them to know something happened. For them to know there's a reason, that there's a point to the difference in me. In my smile. In my eyes. In my spirit. All those small, unimportant pieces of the story that give no insight, nor any relief. At least not when your the one holding the entire puzzle.

There was more than just pain. There was intoxication. There was suffering. There was emptiness. There was surrender. So much surrender. And all of it lead to.. nothing. Nothing but a great, and total display of my weakened defeat. All of which I staged though the sickening sight of my bones. Ultimately it came down to me having such little of my strength left, a hospital bill, and enough irreplaceable damage for me to never be the same. It came close to being the end. The end of me. However, it was the end of such a great deal of myself. Of my life. Of my sanity.

Here I am though, looking back at them all with my hands somehow steady, and my eyes almost completely dried. That's the thing. They don't see it. In all truth, they don't want to.. They couldn't handle the truth. They couldn't handle the landslide hiding underneath every smile that's at the breaks of crashing down. Such skill at hiding my insatiable ruin. I watch them all from behind my glare. Ive learned how to hold back the heavy urge to point out their intolerance at facing what is standing right front of them. Somehow we stand there, always at eye level.. but never does any of that equality reside when it comes to respect. They seem to inevitably pat my shoulder, and force their face into some pout. Some form of pity they've perfected, and that's it. That's all. They're on to their next charade; of trying to compare their hardships with the tragedy I've overcame. The tragedy that I'd survived. I wish that they'd just realize; there's no way to compare one persons pain to another persons misery.

My life has trained me to be this alone. This isolated. This misunderstood.. The pain, the tears, the devastation, the desperation, the destruction, the loss of control, the downwards spiraling, the complete insanity, the pain staking break of my heart, the hunger.. no, more like the starvation, the sickness, the torment, the suffering, the close proximity to my death.. these are all only from just one occurrence out of the multiple that I have gone through. Things that stole my smile, my sanity, and so much of my livelihood. Things I somehow was able to survive, and with a few, even thrive after. After being broken, and bruised in much more harmful ways then just physically. After having had my innocence so unrightfully taken from my hands. After investing not just too much, but my entire life as well as my entire existence into being betrayed not just once, but repeatedly. After losing the child I was only just about to finally meet when instead, I was mourning her death. After single handedly surviving the darkest part of life that comes with such heavy brutal force. After all this and so much more..

I'm still somehow here. I'm even somehow still standing. It is nothing less than amazing. It took 25 years of my life to get where I am, and although I am stronger, and smarter then I have ever been.. it is only now that I have reached the worst pain, as well as the greatest loss of all.

Only within a months time, I have found the definition of purest discontent. Of purest unhappiness. Of purest loneliness. You don't know pain until your in it, just as you don't know defeat until you feel it. Just as you don't know loss until you lose it. I now know this, and I now know that you don't know death until you experience it. Nothing prepares a person for that kind of tragic, desperate, empty, hopeless sorrow. Every day feels like a year, and at times I feel it's the grave sense of grief that slows everything down. It doesn't matter though. Nothing does.. and therefore it's all just come down to one thing;

I wish.

I wish there was just one way of knowing that he's somewhere safe. Of knowing that he is okay. Of knowing that he is smiling. Of knowing that he still loves me. Of knowing that wherever he is now, that he still has my love....

Just one way of knowing if I'll ever see him again. Somehow, someday. Even if only at the end. Even if only after my life is over.

It is all that I have anymore. All that I have to hold on to. That empty hope of someday, somehow.. we will be together again.

The hope of someday, somehow.. I'll be okay again.

Red glow of heat

suck it in

flick ashes

burning tobacco

cinders into your soul

        it’s okay, it’s all right

you’re hooked

addiction to your brim

seeps in – puffs of smoke

        it’s okay, it’s all right

cigarette companies

promise it’ll be better

just use light ones

the special filters

         it’s okay, it’s all right

don’t admit

it will kill you

in little pieces

dribbles of life

seeping away

inhaling your breath

        it’s okay, it’s all right

can’t breathe

cancer cells creeping

hearts attacking

chronic bronchitis

companies never

admitting fault

free samples

hook the young

send them on down

the road

to tobacco addiction

        it’s okay, it’s all right

more addictive

than crack or cocaine

make that money

tote that bale

watch them drop

like flies

        it’s okay, it’s all right

untruths fly by

above your head

kills you dead

but slowly

insidious death

taps on window

you’ll never know

what hit you

Watch your

loved ones

slip away

tobacco stain

reminders

of fatal mistake

lies, lies, lies

cigarette makers-

you lied

loved ones died.

        It’s not okay

        It’s not all right!

She had been told, her whole life, that she was beautiful. It was the most important part of her.

She was given more, she was loved more, and she was held higher.

Her jokes were funnier, her laugh was sweeter, her cooking was better than anyone else's.

Everyone said it.

Golden girl, with the porcelain face.

Until it cracked.

Her face, broken by careless hands, reformed into planes that no longer pleased the eye.

Plain now.

She didn't understand why she was no longer funny. No longer good. Why her laugh was no longer compared to the ring of bells. No longer did her personality charm. 

The world hadn't prepared her, she didnt know how to be average, how to have no one hold doors or look her in the eye. The only thing different was her face. It was just a face, not anything else. She didn't understand why her life left her when her beauty did.

Drowning as you push me under

I cannot find the strength to fight

The weight of the water

And the weak light that shines

Above the surface makes me wonder

Is it not more easy to let go?

There is a song in the waves

That soothes the pain

A calm that comes with dying

An embrace that is more loving

Than the love you gave me

Because your heart was a hammer

Meant to break me with

And breaking I find I cannot breathe

I cannot see, I cannot hear

I cannot bear this pain

The fight to stay here

Is it not good enough

To go down where the ocean's song is played

By musicians who are not seen?

Do I have to conquer

Your madness, my apathy?

We meet in the realm of your insanity

Where you kill me and I let myself be killed

A passive star blinking out 

Of existence without much of a scene

Dying obediently, nearly lovingly

As if to grant your wish is

One final act of affection

But as the light twists

I wonder where you'll go

When I'm not there

Who will hold you back

Who will sing your heart's maniac

To sleep. Who will hold your hand

When you want to kill the crowds

Who will serve you patience

When you wield the destroying hand

Over all that you can reach

But the light strikes what I see

And then I find

Reflection of me

Echo of my mind

Remnant of who I was

Before

And though only caused by refraction

Though darkly and trembling

And running out of air

I reach out and fight

For the surface

I twist and beat

Leaden arms and heavy feet

And the water spins around

But I fight - I might live

Or die in these moments

In this turning light

Under these twisted waters

Under your destructing hands

But if I live

The echo is still in my hearing

The vision is still in my eyes

And while you have crossed the line

So many times you can never be

Anything else than killer

I can be more than I was

Before. I can be more and move beyond

The time I was your victim

And while you may - or may not - 

Kill me in this minute

The echo is safe

The unbroken mind of me

Stays forever free

And stays forever unbroken

And stays forever out of your reach

Anticipation becomes disillusionment

Disappointed growls from within

Eyes amazed with riddles

My life chagrin

Hope fizzles

Each day slowly spins

Astonished by all my letdowns

My life chagrin

Expectations lead to failures

Again and again

Staggered with mortification

My life chagrin

Confident of no hope or pleasure

I force a grin

Everyday the unexpected happens

My life chagrin

The funny thing

about finding someone

who understands

is you realize 

how little everyone else

understands 

you.