Posted in Art, Musings, Poetry

My blog got me through

Watercoloring. 2021

Connecting with others here on WordPress saved me from utter destruction. And for that i am grateful. And in the process, i have returned to my first love. Creating is my lifeline and my grace to get me through to the other side.

Working Out my Angst. 2021

Growing up i was denied every aspect of self for the greater good. And as much as i love my family, to neglect myself was detrimental in the long run. I lost my brother to suicide. And i still have trouble understanding that relationship. We were very close growing up. Until we drifted apart. Friends until high school, when his sudden budding interest in girls, sparked a fissure.

I will never fully understand suicide. The thoughts of doing away with self, once gripped me too. For thirty some years i thought it through. Jumping from second-story windows, holding my breath under pillows, imaging myself driving the car off a bridge, and holding a knife to my neck while talking to my therapist. I had my ideas. Pills and razors, ropes hanging from rafters. They all presented peace of mind.

I have wandered through the ensuing fog. I have spent countless nights in tears. I sacrificed myself for the greater good all while dying a slow death.

I started practicing art in recent years. Whether photography, watercolor, acrylics, textiles, or garden seeds, i have found my inner sense of life. In my poetic words i have tried to let you see a bit more of what stirs inside. And even though i am unable to practice my first love, dance, i found a place to move internally.

So take your bow. 
See me stand before light.
You saved a life.
In disguise. 2021

Please do not use any of my photos without my permission. Thank you.

To John. 3/1/2008.
Posted in Photography, Poetry
Mood ring
I once put on
to watch the colors change.
And when the colors
didn’t align
with how i wanted things
the ring came off
and drowned in ebony.

And i wash away everything
everything within sight.
To be still in heaven’s light.
And pray tomorrow never comes.
Posted in letters, Memoir, Poetry, prose

diary excerpt —the old broke through

Felt brave -well enough, so i peered into the book and read his words. Our words.

Jan 19, 2017, 2:13 PM

Stopped my thoughts

and when i stopped
writing you
voices flooded in -mocking

“Why are you bothering?”
“You’re not going to make it?”

Concentrate on anything
but this
this tight chest and lorazepam.

The knife digs in -relentless.

“Just take it.” I hear.

Forced to give in
I conquer fear.

i feel safe.
i’m home.
And that can be
a problem
i need to overcome.

Do u think it is social anxiety because i read something and it made sense. But also about attachments and neurosis.

Do u know when u dont answer i can find myself growing anxious. Second guessing myself, not feeling safe for saying stuff i mean to keep to myself. I havent been bothered lately. I find myself looking around but im okay. Just a couple times, anxious, and

upset with myself because of this.

I cant be still not knowing what to do. Should, or rather, i need to talk.

I dont know and that makes it bad. Then another thing, this taking medicine. Should i try to stop. Maybe ill be all right. But what if not. Will it just cause more harm. Fretting that im stuck in this hole. But i dont feel stuck now, everyone is gone. Its okay. Its better that way. This is long.

Sorry.

I only notice when I leave the house. Looking out

the top floor window seemed safe to leave; leaving was a totally different reality.

“What do you think? I feel like i should be able to go outside but find myself sleeping, not able to move.” He didn’t have an answer.

“I think ill be okay. Thought maybe if i came to talk every 2 months…” She continued the conversation but never realized he was closed off to her after too many years of stagnation.

The escape. A shadow dances, from out the corner of her eye. Her mind unable to override the dark sky.

——–

Stopping my thoughts today? Good luck. I finish my papers but when i stop writing it all floods in, mocking me. “Why are you bothering? Your not going to make it?”

After a while, trying to write, i just couldnt write. Couldnt concentrate on anything but this. My chest is tight and hurts. I tried relaxing, taking lorazapam. Nothing works.

Its all front and center reminding me its not over no matter how much i wish and want to be free. I have no answers or know what im doing wrong.

All i did was stop and something took advantage of the weak wall.

The old broke through.

Posted in Photography, Poetry, prose

Worried (Thoughts Unleashed)

Borderline Crossing

My mind worries about everything. For instance, I contemplated if I should allow comments or turn them off on my blog. I don’t get many, so that is not the problem. The problem is coming across the right way in my answers. Please don’t get me wrong whatever I decide. I will only worry more.

Cinco de Mayo 2020

Then, I worry about food. My mother was very overweight and I was deathly afraid of ever having to be seen. So I refused food until I became a mother. Then I ate as if I never tasted spaghetti or tuna or chocolate chip cookies before. And I still have a propensity to over eat. I love the taste of food and I am a pretty damn good cook. Just wish I never had seen a plate, fork and knife. I am doomed.

Cape Cod Passions

And the last thing on my mind this morning is a dear friend who sent a note. Should I write back or wait a while? I once confessed a growing love while guilt tripped me up. The feelings were built over tides and shifting sand. I never intended to devour the sour or sweet. Meanwhile, insecurities continue to flourish under the bridge to cause more angst. Oh! to speak out loud, these morning thoughts, chases the sun away. I should go play under the clouds and worry alone.

Posted in Photography, Poetry

My heart is a corridor


I cannot seem to walk past a door
lonely, in the pursuit of time
the wind’s impatient brush with forever

we stood in the hollow
bodies carved from sharpened rock
and painted yellow
the dim-lighted blackened space

You obviously see me
spared the chance of fading out
the rain washes our conscience clean.

Posted in Poetry

she kept a vigil

The darkest sleep waits
while restless creeps
four walls of restraint

slowly dawn gathers
lost fortunes of judgment
her hands snuff the candles

in careless abandon
the coffin lid closes
settles her passions, unrobed.

Posted in Photography, Poetry

In Deep Surrender

The time seems right
to move forward on dreams.
The trees 
uprooted and ever moving
a ruddy rouge
my dead giveaway.

The mud cakes my face
a promise to remove blemishes
while you watch from afar
and I crouch at the grave.

“Listen to the sun sparkle.”
A flame on this stick.
I fizzle, barely noticed
sending you mixed messages.
Posted in Photography, Poetry, prose

run away.

Life is washing over me and my reaction muted. In the process of being overwhelmed i have lost a desire to share.

Will I find strength to shoot the barrel. Letters locked and loaded. They suffer and land on days grown cold.

The intimacy dares to run away. If I stay, will i manage to kill you this time?

I hear you tell me my words are too timid. That you survived the shot. Maybe that was my purpose… to spare your life.

I am fluid and change with time. As the sun moves across the printed page, shadows dance into my mind. I beg the letters to curtsy and bow to you, neighbor… apologize and exchange spaces with my love.

Know I am not ready to leave this world. Are you?

Someday it will be all that remains. Silence. It will be good to come back to the reborn self. The self who truly understands not in dreams. But in being the dream.