Amazing what we can easily forgive in others, we cannot forgive in ourselves.

m.
4/11/15

Picking at the scab

Pick...
Pick...
Pick...
Questioning.  Pushing.  Demanding.
Pick...
Your polite answers
           are not enough.
Pick...
They want more of you
Pick...
They pull at your skin.  They want you raw.
They want your soul 
            exposed.
 
Pick...
Finally the scab releases its hold and you bleed for them.
Blood and venom pouring from your veins at their insistence
Seeping across the floor to their feet, filling their ears
The horror of your words showing in their eyes.

They wince and with a disgusted sigh, walk away.
They only wanted to break you.
They didn't want your mess.

m
2/11/2015

cannot sleep in the dark

Why is it, in the darkest nights, we cannot sleep?
Do we require a hint of light in order to rest?
Maybe light prevents us from adapting too much to the dark.
Whereas the darkness tempts us, dares us, defies us to look deeper,
hoping for the way out.


m.

Testing my patience...

Goddammit.
I talk about your compassion, how you taught me so much.
How you taught me patience.
You haven't been gone a day and you are testing me.
FUCK!
Filling my day with people who can't be bothered.
Mightier than thou fuckers,
False martyrs, and selfish pricks.

Wanting just a day to focus on me. To gather my thoughts.
To sew the hole in my heart closed one stitch at a time.
And there you are. Reminding me it is not about me.
Testing my ability to be patient with others.
To see their flaws and find compassion.
And reminding me that love is the only way to fill the hole in my heart.



The above is dedicated to my friend who died yesterday.  He was truly the most compassionate human being I've ever met. 
Rest in Peace my friend
Kimball David Paul 3/10/1958 - 8/12/2014

m.

She watches how you die

She watches how you die
It's never the same twice
She sees the horror (as it is always horrible),

how she is notified (she is crushed),

and the funeral (everyone is there).

When she starts to picture her grief is when it stops.

No need to get emotional; you didn't die yet.

She is just being foolish and shouldn't have such distressing thoughts.

Until the next time.  And you die all over again.

m.

Looking for a fight

Agitated
And looking for a fight.
Pacing and shaking, she's struggling
      to hold it together.
Can't they see
They are challenging her, daring her
       to break her calm.
She trying
       to be patient.
But they keep coming.
Wordless pleas spilling from her eyes
Can't they see
They're too close, too loud
She's tensing; the world slowing around her
Daring her to be still; readying her to strike
She needs to flee.
Can't they see
The signs are there
      if they just open their eyes.
They have to let her run.
Or they will need to brace for the fight.


m.

Broken fucking ragdoll

Broken fucking ragdoll.

Sawdust for brains.

Loved and used until there is nothing left

then put on the shelf to rot.  

7/1/2014

m.