Distortions.
Once upon a time, when we were ten million years younger, our hearts were the size of planets. We had no spirits, we had nothing other than what seemed to be presence until giant craters of heartbreak appeared. And then young children wondered who their real fathers were and monks thought about where God had disappeared to. In a robe of tiny, answer less snowflakes, we all began to vanish beneath nameless monuments of memory. Conception of a new 'First time' was had. We solidified and began hibernating for undetermined lengths.
I got a package in the mail today containing a sorry-for-your-loss card and a clay imprint of Phinneas' paw print with his name inscribed along the top. I sat there crying about my dream last night of being raped and how much care the vet that euthanized Parker had taken to send me a very nice gesture.
I'm lying to a king; I see curving-her in my mind like cigarette smoke drifting around her exhaled body. I wonder if you're decomposing in this mess of separation, wonder if you're thriving, wonder if corpses mind being hidden behind. I put a toxin in my body and remember how far from effective it is inside of me.
There are ten things that I cannot shake. There are no secrets either of us can keep. There are not enough new albums to distract ourselves with and no need for closet skeletons.
As we come down, we continue to squeeze lemons for elixir, watch people go to college and crave hallucinations more than ever. I feel like I'm watching a discoloring of truth in seasonal changes.
I've stopped bingeing and purging because I know it does not fix any problems. I sometimes have to worry about it, but know immediately that it is a needle in every state of mind, no matter what.
I don't want a casual fuck because it doesn't mask the truth and doesn't make me happy which is all I'm really interested in.
If you're going to lie to me, don't bother interacting with me on any level. Fact tells me that nothing is an adequate enough distraction and I should therefore not continue searching for anything other than my own heart and happiness.
I don't wonder what to do because Nick is busy anymore because I won't get to see him even if he were not.
Something is dead, but it is not me.
A memory is a simple prayer to your past, but nothing more. One can learn a lesson, but the process of discovering something new and life changing is the land mark for moving on.
I miss him very much, but this is my life right now and it needs to be reassembled the way I need it to be.
I am no longer actively trailing people to try and heal them. I know that I am unmended and need to stand before this will be over.
These are the things I need to fix about myself:
-Feeling exploited and used.
-Feeling vulnerable all the time.
-Feeling unwanted and ashamed.
-Being overwhelmingly depressed.
These are accomplishments I have made and/or things I have eliminated:
-Worrying about my body.
-Being embarrassed to grieve.
-Inactivity.
-Denial.
-Suicidal thinking.
-Eating disorder behaviors.
-Finding a sense of normalcy and routine.
-Being capable of seeing a future for myself.
Despite a potent loneliness, a strong memory containing the way Nick smells, feels, sometimes snores, my massive vices and blindness, I have become capable of leaving behind past feuds forever internal. I am still making a place for myself in a measureless world where this process is more common for some than others.
I've been really lucky to survive, have been even more fortunate to experience something so lovely in my past, and am very deserving of an untangled position in every sequence of events.
I still care about everything I used to. The only thing new is that I've added myself to the process.
Tomorrow, I am going to go to the humane society, tights/art supply shopping, out to see chicken little, and am going to have a picnic.
Call me if you want to join me in anything because I love company.
Unbroken, undone
I am finding home again
Timelessly upright.
I got a package in the mail today containing a sorry-for-your-loss card and a clay imprint of Phinneas' paw print with his name inscribed along the top. I sat there crying about my dream last night of being raped and how much care the vet that euthanized Parker had taken to send me a very nice gesture.
I'm lying to a king; I see curving-her in my mind like cigarette smoke drifting around her exhaled body. I wonder if you're decomposing in this mess of separation, wonder if you're thriving, wonder if corpses mind being hidden behind. I put a toxin in my body and remember how far from effective it is inside of me.
There are ten things that I cannot shake. There are no secrets either of us can keep. There are not enough new albums to distract ourselves with and no need for closet skeletons.
As we come down, we continue to squeeze lemons for elixir, watch people go to college and crave hallucinations more than ever. I feel like I'm watching a discoloring of truth in seasonal changes.
I've stopped bingeing and purging because I know it does not fix any problems. I sometimes have to worry about it, but know immediately that it is a needle in every state of mind, no matter what.
I don't want a casual fuck because it doesn't mask the truth and doesn't make me happy which is all I'm really interested in.
If you're going to lie to me, don't bother interacting with me on any level. Fact tells me that nothing is an adequate enough distraction and I should therefore not continue searching for anything other than my own heart and happiness.
I don't wonder what to do because Nick is busy anymore because I won't get to see him even if he were not.
Something is dead, but it is not me.
A memory is a simple prayer to your past, but nothing more. One can learn a lesson, but the process of discovering something new and life changing is the land mark for moving on.
I miss him very much, but this is my life right now and it needs to be reassembled the way I need it to be.
I am no longer actively trailing people to try and heal them. I know that I am unmended and need to stand before this will be over.
These are the things I need to fix about myself:
-Feeling exploited and used.
-Feeling vulnerable all the time.
-Feeling unwanted and ashamed.
-Being overwhelmingly depressed.
These are accomplishments I have made and/or things I have eliminated:
-Worrying about my body.
-Being embarrassed to grieve.
-Inactivity.
-Denial.
-Suicidal thinking.
-Eating disorder behaviors.
-Finding a sense of normalcy and routine.
-Being capable of seeing a future for myself.
Despite a potent loneliness, a strong memory containing the way Nick smells, feels, sometimes snores, my massive vices and blindness, I have become capable of leaving behind past feuds forever internal. I am still making a place for myself in a measureless world where this process is more common for some than others.
I've been really lucky to survive, have been even more fortunate to experience something so lovely in my past, and am very deserving of an untangled position in every sequence of events.
I still care about everything I used to. The only thing new is that I've added myself to the process.
Tomorrow, I am going to go to the humane society, tights/art supply shopping, out to see chicken little, and am going to have a picnic.
Call me if you want to join me in anything because I love company.
Unbroken, undone
I am finding home again
Timelessly upright.