Loving you feels so cruel its culmination requires the killing of something soft and innocent Guilty feelings get tangled with the glee I want to grasp this heart burns bittersweet There is a sharp pain I'll have to face in order to claim the prize I pine for please let this promise make me brave
pain
Terminally Yours
Missing you is a chronic illness an ongoing inflammation of the heart it comes and goes in sudden flareups then subsides back into remission Regular checkups have become routine monitoring my emotion for warning signs self screening for the sharp pain of longing trying to stay mindful when it overtakes me Some days it feels like I'm finally better probing into those tender places doesn't hurt at all but then for some reason I start to ache again and all the stiches inside my heart are unsown An ocean of grief opens up inside me bright, blood-red waters fill my lungs with the violent crashing waves of all that once was This condition of loving you cannot be cured I think I'll always carry it with me I think I like the days with pain they make me feel close to you again
Engulfed in Anger
Anger is the poison that paralyzes my higher power the shackles that keep me separate swallowed up in thick flames Burning all the bridges that could deliver healing waters an aching exhaustion in my chest from hopeless, helpless hatred The violent energy that boils my blood bubbles up my throat to choke me lashing out with an instant instinct I immediately wish I could take back All consuming, ever growing a blazing heat that binds and blinds me rage reducing compassion to ashes burning up who I've hoped I would be I can never seem to calm this fire but let me learn to sit inside the inferno and keep this liquid lava venom from seeping out into everyone I love
One Year
How long can you try to force something before you finally come to forfeit? it's now been 363 days since my heart broke Walking home on the first crisp day of January wiping frost off pale cheeks with red, aching fingers a year's beginning like a heavy stone thrown into a lake There is a kind of certainty that feels uncommonly cruel a conviction to cut into raw nerves like severing a hand to save the whole Instead I've let this wound continue to fester faced with the same decision, only denser the compounding interest of inner pain
A Precious Aching
Sometimes my heart strains toward you spreading so thin across the expanse between that it quivers like a tightly strung guitar string sending notes of anguish into all that empty space Reverberation of moth eaten memories stirring up stale dust in a long abandoned room as it echoes off the walls of aching lungs until I'm almost sure I should reach out for you The half formed fantom of a future grips my heart so suddenly in some moments that it feels worth risking anything for even certain humiliation and rejection But then the sharp, pinching recoil always returns to snap me out of my pathetic, forlorn reveries my hand is not worthy of even reaching a frenzy of hope can overcast the wretched truth I have no right to continue pining a don't deserve the bittersweet comfort of these carefully enshrined memories let alone the audacity of asking for more My lot now is to keep languishing moving inevitably away from a future that could have once been mine but was long ago forsaken My selfish heart keeps me from even the respite of one day forgetting pouring warm tears over ice cold memories I will be grateful for this aching
The Strength of Memory
Early morning mountainside enshrined behind a gentle mist fog rising from cool air as it meets the hot earth How many other moments of awe have already slipped beyond the veil of impermanent, imperfect memory sudden piercing pang of vague loss I run my fingers over the fading pictures I've placed in holy alters of the heart pleasures made sweeter by the stitches of pain weaving outward from the past Is it wrong to endlessly revive old joys should I put effort into slowing the inevitable erosion of time or would it be more kind To allow old days to disappear and someday no longer know what wonders I've since lost along the long, winding way Will holding on make me strong enough to face the many difficulties ahead or will a tight grip leave me too weak to embrace the life I've yet to live
The Beauty of Broken Things
The sweet sadness of loss and long, lonely nights I once viewed as damage chips and cracks to cry over evidence of unworthiness that everyone would see I've learned to understand that old wounds are what weaved me into who I am a wonderful landscape with deep valleys of despair that can be filled up with healing water These dark caverns of past pain create breathtaking contrast and allow me to ascend higher and appreciate the peaceful peaks speckling my span of time here with all consuming beauty I am so grateful for all the tears and the twinges of discomfort that form tight tethers to my past even my small sufferings have been dear friends and teachers to me I've learned how to love my broken pieces
Fear is Futile, the Future May Never Come
The future is always uncertain fear cannot solve anything instead it keeps you small trembling in your lowest frequency A protective shield repelling all positive energy from entering there is no way to escape pain avoidance only amplifies it How many things have I agonized over that never even came to pass? I've aged myself tenfold expending energy on the ugliest ideas of things that would never happen The art of living is learning to be present no future safety and comfort will matter if we can't even enjoy the peace we have now so let your mind be still, just exist All we can do is savor the moment everything else is only theoretical there is no use struggling with demons that we may never meet along our path Build resiliency for whatever may arrive by cultivating a garden of delicious experience that will satiate you as the future floods in you are alive, you are safe, just breathe
Haze of Change
Senses sharpened by a shift in reality the surreal sensation of sudden change unstable ground under cautious steps keeps me tethered in the present moment My soul lurches back and forth between ecstatic excitement and utter terror at the prospect of all that's to come should I dare to let myself hope? Surely it's psychotic to leave this safe haven this resting place that's given me such grace the soft embrace of a found family have I formed ties strong enough to last? Still, it's been so long since I've felt this stirring this passionate flutter of energy inside my chest for once I want to let myself follow it to fully embrace my innocent, hopeful heart I've finally felt the hand of fate guiding me I can't bear to ignore the voice of opportunity even as it beckons me beyond my boundaries to new places tinged with fear and uncertainty Perhaps for the first time, I feel ready to be brave making the right choice doesn't mean it's easy left disoriented and dazzled by unknown possibilities it's been the hardest decision I've ever had to make
Cry
SSRIs make it hard to cry hard to feel anything fully at all sometimes they are necessary to blunt the unbearable fear a protective barrier against the world But walls meant to defend soon start to close in and cut off the true healing of experience and connection left cold and untouched by life It feels good to cry to release this stagnant energy that has been choking me but that familiar, impassable pit remains just behind my heart Now tears of joy and gratitude flow freely from my eyes but the painful feelings are still stuffed down and kept from breaking the surface They are too big and frightening to let myself feel, to move past and heal stifled deep inside they swell and stitch themselves together become congealed with past pain Threatening to consume me or tear my paper heart to pieces forever adding drops to that dark well discovering the ways I've learned to cope have been keeping me sick