I took my pen and carved my flesh, to see what hid inside Black blood oozed slowly, leaking tears left me blind Tacky, sticky comfort revealing all the truth I denied In the flaps of my skin, I saw scars hidden My very nature is sin, reflected hatred given Down to the bone, the poison... Continue Reading →
Thoughts and feelings surge like a summer storm Raining down your cheeks With lightning bolts of chills Heat stroke memories Raise the mercury of your soul It’s been so many times you’ve retreated in your skull You’re idea of heaven is where thoughts don’t drown your soul Eddies swirl inside As the winds crest and... Continue Reading →
I felt my soul ripped outward, hung shapeless in the day Rose red of blushing cheeks, as the world inspects my shame I hid naked in the daylight, a flesh covered rag doll A child heaved in the darkest gutters of my own desire I found the hell they speak of, when I gazed into... Continue Reading →
What If I Am Wrong? (Part 1 of 3) What If I Am Wrong (Part 2 of 3) I take medication to keep me stable, but worry that I am hurting myself more than helping. I meditate and write to heal, but worry that I am proliferating my own madness. I try to be an... Continue Reading →
What If I Am Wrong? (Part 1 of 3) Prior to the hospital, I was convinced that I was supposed to write and help others. I was convinced that if I wrote, everything would be fine. Then, I got convinced my ex was talking to me through music. I got convinced my phone was hacked... Continue Reading →
(Splitting this long post into 3, because I hate ridiculously long blog posts...) Those five words echo hauntingly in my mind. There is a part of me that wonders what I would be able to accomplish if I did not second guess myself constantly. I read not that long ago that people born under a... Continue Reading →
When I was little, I was obsessed with collecting crystals and I was also drawn to meditation. I remember my favorite meditation was to imagine putting all of my worries into a hot air balloon and blowing it up and away with my breathing. I would do it every night. Even then, anxiety was a... Continue Reading →
Mah Butt Itches 