choosing

I am Choosing to be more

Vulnerable

with the world around me 

because 

I want It

to be more Vulnerable

with Me

Tahiti

I need to
wipe the tear stains from my glasses which
I haven't cleaned in days
And
clear the clutter which has accumulated while
my mind's been in a haze
Because
my best friend has left me here alone with
only her memory
In one week
it's amazing how much your life can change
when someone
who couldn't even speak her mind
at least not verbally
Has left your side
Left pain behind
Escaped the confines of worldly time
In my mind she will live on
lend strength and patience to my song
so I can chase my dream
Seventeen years is nowhere near enough
but still our bond was
whole, pure love
Though small she was a fighter, though soft, she was
so strong
And how I'll always wish to reach out
and just
touch her little paw
gaze into those big blue, soulful eyes,
the ones with which she taught me:
To yourself, always be kind.

Sex

Women
Talk about sex
Because
People
Talk about sex
And
Women
Are
People
<3

Listen.

Okay, listen.

You feel angry,
Overwhelmed,
Upset.
You feel like crying.
Like screaming.
Like
Breaking something.

So what do you do?
Shut down.
It reduces the pain, it
Takes away the

Immediate distress.

But

LISTEN!

Fucking listen!

Listen to your body, your heart.

You feel:
Like crying
Upset
Alone
Overwhelmed
Angry
Joyful
Motivated
Aggravated
Distressed
Passionate
And
Or
All the things that make
You

Human.

So.
You feel:
What?

Ask yourself:
What?

And what brought that up?
Where did it come from?
And how, how do I
Work
through this?

How can I

Feel

Without
Burying, decimating, destroying
Those feelings?

Because
without acknowledgement
They will later
reappear.

So:
Feel. Embrace. Accept.

Work through - grow.
Move forward.
Be one with those
Feelings that
Make
You

Beautiful.

Human.

HOW can I explain this??

I want
    to be more
    in touch with
    my heart
        my closest self
        my authentic ME

"The feels" -- should lead me somewhere -- should
    inform my action
        should
DRIVE ME
        should
touch me, then extend and
            touch all else --
                the things I interact with
         the
    world I put myself in
            the
    work
        I demonstrate
                    FUCK.

FUCK!
    How can I explain this?

I haven't been feeling.

I've been drowning myself in...numb?
    So stop.    Stop.    STOP.
        Cry. Hurt. Feel the pain -- THE PAIN OF

The pain. of. not. feeling.
    Because that shit hurts worse than --
        than anything that could be felt.

Feeling is the medium.  Emotion is the tool.
    This is how I show the world - myself included -
Who I Am.
        Feel. Create. Destroy.  Feel.  Create.  Destroy.

                BEGIN ANEW

Stuff

I try to sleep but think about
an endless sea of endless
crap.
It churns and moans and
screams out: "More!
How dare you think you've calmed
my storm?"
Its waves beckon enticingly
like Sirens, chuckling,
"Come and see..."
So in the eye a glitter forms
it twinkles, reaches, wants for
more -
more things to fill a dragon's lair
a mansion, grand, filled most
by air
enslaved by echoes, frequencies,
which cloud the mind
deliberately
Now there within this stony wall
these sounds, they build up,
start a thrall
a tale, a story, of the times
a narrative which seems
to rhyme
but deep within the Siren's spell
the truth, unnoticed, weeps
and wails
while glory dreams littered with stuff
forsakes the heart, an
unfilled cup
that now sits, rotting, in a chest
neglected - broke -
not laid to rest
This hollow, lonely, beat up husk
tries desperately to reach,
to trust
while violently, the Sirens sing to
all these hearts entrapped by
things
that glitter, fill more palace walls
dampen the sound of unheard
calls
so words, turned whispers, from the heart
drown and choke;
unspoken thoughts
broadcast by dragons fierce with greed
who'd rather hoard a host
of things
that have no value, truth, or use
except to look at and
abuse
while unloved hearts, they wither, crushed
under the weight of endless
stuff
and still no hero, pure and just
comes riding in to clear the
dust
that gathers, day, by aching day
upon weary, torn, and strained face
who've, Stockholmed, lost a simpler past
a time which long's been at
half mast
a memory which now'll be raised
requires no worship, and - or -
praise
but only if each; every! heart
could stand and stretch and
wash the salt
which gathered, built up from neglect
of one another's broken
wrecks
those husks of hearts entrapped in stone
could break their walls,
be vulnerable
silence the echoes, stop the fear
replace the lonely stinging
tears
with warmth, and love, and hope, and trust
rest
weary hands once filled
with
stuff

Me;Inspired.

Eyes won’t close to let me sleep;

beating, quaking, it’s bone deep –

Although my body’s weary, tired,

finally, I feel inspired:

For once within the last six months,

words drift, soft, right off my tongue.

Somehow, there’s this motivation -

suddenly I feel my place and,

reminders, bright, they grace my skin,

they tell me, here, begin again.

At my right side they hearken, near:

"Lift your chin up please, my dear!"

Women tied to my bloodstream

stand so strong, help me sing.

So to the left there’s family,

who lift me up and fill my wings,

remind me I can tame the beast,

reach out with love, encouraging,

who see there down on my right leg:

An image of a girl who played,

who, come the sunshine or the dark

always offered up her heart,

and grew into the woman, left,

whose fiery spirit laughed, and wept and

always carved out her own trail,

no matter if she’d win or fail.

So eyes, now open, to the past,

I feel existence on my back,

and though, some days, it feels heavy,

I will not hesitate to see

a universe full of wondrous things

connected to this earth by tree,

and not afraid, though sometimes lost,

I’ll wander, free, and fight with cause.

Epiphany

This epiphany has hit me;
somehow everything has changed.
Six months ago I woke up
ev'ry morn feeling afraid -
Afraid that you would leave me,
that you had no love to give -
Afraid of some dishonesty,
some lie to trap me in.
Somewhere along the line it seems
these fears, with time, dissolved.
Your presence now feels safe to me;
all my worries are assuaged.
Your arms bring me security;
they calm my roughest waves.
Your words bring me much comfort,
which softly shakes me from my daze.
Where once wounds, deep, had gouged me,
now only linger soft, white scars.
And though I'd locked my heart away,
you've crashed right through those bars.
So at once I'll say: I'm sorry,
for keeping up my guard.
But I'll also smile and thank you,
for softening up my heart.
Your patience has been crucial
in unlocking all my gates,
and at the top of these broad turrets,
my nest, you rest, and keep me safe.

the sun

the rays of the sun are

more intimate

give me more

love

than you

golden rays are 

safer

warmer

make me feel better

have more effort

more energy

more passion

more intensity

more expression...

than you.

the sun wants to touch me

wants to hold me

to lift me

kiss me

light my way

the sun does not try

it just does

I do not have to ask

I do not have to pry

or prod

or poke

or fight for its glance

the sun will always be there

I know that for sure

of your presence in my future

however

I've not been assured.

greener

the grass is always greener
is the story of my life
I swear there's nothing truly
that will make me satisfied
something's always broken
nothing's never gained
and once I get down to it
I'm sure I'm just afraid -
afraid of what? commitment?
afraid of what? the truth?
or maybe I'm just searching
for something worth to lose -
or something whose attention
I do not have to fight
something whose affections
bring me to the light
the grass is always greener
maybe that's reality
should I shift and settle
or hold out until I'm free?