juxtapose – a game of tearing up to keep ourselves together

We think we know what love feels like but we don’t know what love is.

I know what desire and longing are, how they entwine together around your neck. I know what it feels like to miss someone but sometimes it feels the same as missing a piece of furniture you got used to falling into after a long day at work. Best of all, I know what heartbreak is, especially heartbreak brought on by self-destruction and the ever-hanging feeling of grey matter telling me I am not good enough.

I have many men in the pages of my journals and while I think of some of them fondly, being fond is not the same as love. My thinking is black and white and this is challenging when trying to define and assess what is and isn’t love. One minute it is and it might kill you if you can’t have it. Then one minute it isn’t and never was. [Insert reasons why you were being an idiot. Blame yourself for being “soft and naive.”]

And if it isn’t sticking then it wasn’t love, right? I have no idea.

I try to define love in the “now.” It is comfort and stability but I am chaos. It is hard for me to love stability when chaos is what I want and what raised me.

Trying to love in the great “NOW” though can me up too.

Daily Post: Disappear – A Poem

You slid out of me, ectoplasm,
and I let you. You are
a phantom stranger in
my memories with strong teeth
and living hands that reach
into my head through
dreams that drench me
in ice-cold sweat and I feel
dead when I wake up after
midnight to feel you flee
from the fake bed in my head.
I watch you float through walls,
away, your smile is unfamiliar.

Disappear

Daily Post: disappear – draft notes

You disappeared long ago; I wept and wondered.
I let you slide out of me like ectoplasm.

You used to say I’d stay a ghost but
it’s always been you,
who floated,
who walked through walls,

a phantom stranger
with teeth and living hands

You slid out of me, ectoplasm,
and I let you. You are
a phantom stranger in
my memories with strong teeth
and living hands that reach
into my head through
dreams that drench me
in ice-cold sweat and I feel
dead when I wake up after
midnight to feel you flee
from the fake bed in my head.
I watch you float through walls,
your smile is unfamiliar.

Disappear

Enter darkness.

Your fingers were hexes but so clean

for you to pose my bones to fit around them.

I was emptied

like a dollhouse overturned by a child pretending

to escalate from a thunderstorm to a hurricane.

Exit darkness

Edit 2:

The darkness came.

Your fingers were hexes but so clean

for you to pose my bones to fit around them.

You emptied me like I was a dollhouse and

you were a child pretending to be a hurricane,

turning me upside down to make it real.

The darkness left.

Edit 3:

The darkness came.

Your fingers were hexes but so clean

for you to pose my bones to fit around them.

By you, I was emptied

like a dollhouse overturned by a child pretending

to be a hurricane.

The darkness left.

His fingers were hexes but so clean

to pose my bones to fit around them.

 

 

 

The darkness came. The darkness left.

 

The darkness did not match to what was inside of me.

It’s your fault

he wants everything and nothing

Roar like a tigress, cry like a little girl

be fierce, be soft

be prepared to disintegrate

like a clay figurine in his hands

when he changes his mind

he doesn’t want your muddy children,

your dusty face, your woman hands

<3 - <3 (<3x2)

I think I’ve lost a lot of my friends
Through belief that I’m an instrument
And fuck me if you must then
Treat me like an old friend
I can’t exist within my own head
So I insist on haunting your bed
If you could only hear what I said
You’d see I’m not scared

tristeza

We are unimaginative when it comes to imagining each other’s pain, personal grief. Why, when someone dies, does it feel like a crack in your chest and everything goes dry except your eyes?

Why is it this?

“Oh my God.” Tears. “I’m sorry. I love you.” I don’t know what to say.

We cradle our condolences in our hands and try to use them to hold people together. Even those of us that know and believe that Death’s plan goes hand in hand with God’s, we feel betrayal. It stings.

Tonight as I sat with Santa Muerte, praying for protection and strength, I asked that there be comfort for my cousins, my dad. We have lost so much in the last 6 years.

This is just another public announcement of mine, to hug those you love, hold them close. Drop what or who doesn’t matter, don’t embrace people, jobs, or situations that make your heart hurt, flare up your mental illness, or make you lose sleep. Life is short, it’s promised to all of us that it will be.

Death is unstoppable and the way you love should be unstoppable too. Be kind. Apologize if you need to or stay silent if that suits you but do no harm. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.

Descansa en paz, tía Connie. Que tu viaje sea al principio.