A Candystore Metaphor

I want to wrap myself in a blanket, not for warmth but for shelter. A protection from the outside and all of it’s sinister voices whispering, “You can’t.” I want to let the downy softness cradle away the fear and the sadness. To let a pleasant consolation sweep over me in a joyous wave of nostalgia.
I would give anything right now for some kind of comfort that resembled that, the comfort that carried no traces of confusion. That I knew, and they knew. That it was something mutual. I wish there was no frustration and wishing, that things just became not happened. I wish that there weren’t so many choices because I was always the little kid in the candy store last to choose. There were too many options.
When I looked at all the brightly color filled jars I had a hard time seeing myself eating any of them. It was always the idea of having them all that intrigued me. But never did I get the one I wanted because I always wanted more adventure. Maybe I’m picking and choosing my life that way. Picking through the options I know I would love in search of something more. As it concludes, by the end of our years we are aged and hopefully all the wiser. But do we ever really find that peace? Or is it something strange that makes us want to reach out for more?
In the expanse of all my synapses, memory cords, and array of lobes, I can’t explain why I always want something more. Being content is something I find difficult and really, finding the time is what makes me begrudgingly sit and write about making choices.
Maybe it’s a childish thing, and I have yet to grow up. It’s conceivable that my brain is not fully developed and I shall have to wait till the right time comes. Till then, all I know as truth from my accumulated experience is this.
“When things become hard, I begin to question. Not because I want to know why it’s happening, but because I want to know what I should change. So forever I switch back and forth between ultimatums taking the harshness and backlash from both.”
There are so many things we want, and I refer to “we” because I know I am not alone. So, when we are forced to sit in an empty room, in the dark, eyes scanning nothing and our mind imagining everything… we’re left to ask a simple question… What do I want?
I know this logic has all been based around the idea of wanting, but we as individuals let our wants drive our feet that later take the steps towards our goals. Whether they be big, small, or just plain stupid, borderline on mediocrity… we get somewhere, simply because of wanting.
Now, I’m writing this because I want something more. Whatever that may be. I assure you that I have never heard the right answer so I continue to search, so maybe that is my blessing and curse. I just pray that my guardian angel watch over me well as I sleep because even in my dreams I search.
Maybe I’ll live the rest of my life searching, and maybe when I come to the end, I’ll look up and say “I found it”. But, whatever “it” is I have yet to be introduced by the twisted sister Fate and I have no engagements in the near future with her. Unless she plans to grace me with  her presence unannounced.
Please Fate, Destiny, show me a little glimpse of what you’ve seen. Because a lifetime of adventure is a dream, but a moment of solace is bliss.

Learning to breathe.

Learning to Breathe.

“You’ll laugh when there is something funny… you will love when you find something worth loving.”
When you sit down at the threshold of the place where you find peace, or had, and realize that you’ve fallen away from yourself… You have to sit back and understand the past. It’s a hairy, sticky, heart hurting mess, but it has to be sorted. Just as your room has to be cleaned, and you have to keep going on. Even if you don’t want to.
I’ll admit, I’ll cover one thing with another. And another… and another. I’ll let it build till I have this perfectly built up illusion of a castle… that’s really crumbling down as I stare. I’ll hold on to the past for as long as I can, with both of my hands white knuckled… gripping for it all to come back. I’ve held my breath for so long, waiting for things for things to change back. And in the mean time.. I forgot how to breathe. Essentially, I forgot how to live.
What a strange thing it is, to feel my heart beat again. What a strange pain it has become, knowing that the dull throb in my chest is there to stay. With every time I open my mouth, I hear my own voice, the one that was weak and broken. I’m not asking for understanding, Really… I’m not asking for anything. I just want to say it, I want to say out loud that I have been coward. I have been weak, and I have felt small.
I have become a con artist, and a master at bolting for the door when I feel my castle crumbling down. So here I am… down to where the foundation should be and I see the same little girl I started with. I see her crying in her room and begging for the world to be over. Begging for an answer to come. Three years later, My answer has come… and it’s feeling again. In my past I have been hurt, and I never understood why. It’s a little hazy… but I think I get it now.
Because someday, someone is going to love me for me. The silly, the crazy, the bad. The ugly. I won’t have to fight for my opinion to be heard, I won’t have to wear a different face everyday. I will wake up in the morning have a strong armed barricade holding me tight and fighting out the worlds little voices and ideas. Nothing will matter, because I will be able to be me and no one will care. Because I surely won’t.
I look down at my hands now, watching my fingers slide across the keys, and I wish nothing more to describe the swelling warmth inside of my chest and back. I wish to tell you that there is some sort of seed of passion deep inside of me… and it’s the foundation that I need.
It’s a funny place, to think that we live in, that has set me up for this moment. This very instance where I have been given the chance to see, and feel, and have partial understanding.
I accept the hurt that has happened, I accept the pain that was ignored, I forgive all those that decided I wasn’t good enough. All of those people that took one look at me and let me fall under the rug never to be seen again. For all of you that gave me not a second thought… I hope you understand what you have done. Because the hurt that was caused is something I have dealt with for a long time. I forgive you though, because if you were in that same place that I was… then you don’t seen anything. You’re ignorant to the world, to yourself, and to your family. And there’s a lot your missing, and I feel sorry for you.
Because, even with knowing something like you do, something that was brought to you… if you still refuse to change, there is no point in being. I know my words will have an impact, on someone, maybe no one. But I want you to know, that these are my words, and I’ve fought for too long to let them be silenced. I will no longer write the story that you want, because we want different things.
I will not turn into someone else that you want me to be, because you’re just projecting your ideas on my beautiful image. Yes, I am confident in the fact that I am beautiful human being with a heart of gold and no intentions of ever hurting a single soul. If I could, I would stop and help everyone if that’s what they were seeking. I will not force my help upon people, so if you ask, I will answer. In any way I can… I will come. Once you have my heart, you will always all of me. And that’s what people don’t understand.
I will never be that girl, that’s okay with pretending. That’s okay with trying to understand something I will never agree with. I will never be that stereotypical girl with the same stereotypical thoughts you think have. You don’t know me, and unless you take the time to know me… all you’re doing in idealizing me is judging yourself. I will love you as a human whoever you are, and that will be our common ground. But I will only let you see me, and understand me if there is trust there. If there is no judging, if there is the same understanding in your eyes as mine as I look into yours.
I have no intentions of pleasing everyone. Ever. All I wish to do is speak my truth, and share my love with the world to help those beyond the reach of others. I am an extension of the hand that was suppose to reach you. I will read your intentions, I will search heart in a single moment… and if you need me, I will be there.
Someday, I hope that will be extended to me, hopefully, I’ll meet my other half. The same person who will not judge me, who will know me, who will never jump to conclusions, and above all else… never scare me or make my soul feel threatened. I have a fragile heart and soul, as much as I like to be strong, I am weak and I rely on those stronger than me for support.My legs give out constantly and I fall to the ground repeatedly… arms and knees bloody from pushing myself back up again. I have learned to stand up when I am pushed down. I have been given trials beyond your wildest dreams. Someday… someone will hold me up and my wounds will hear, I will have thick scars where I once had open flesh.
The best part? I won’t have to keep looking for you… because you’ll find me. You’ll hear my off-beating heart and rescue me from all the war and fighting. I will have my hero, my champion, my knight ragged armor… because who wants a prince that never went into battle? Who wants someone that let their fighting be done for them? I will know you by your heart, and you will hold mine tenderly in your palms. I will let you sew my heart back up on my sleeve where it belongs, and we will carry on that way.
Someday we’ll be together. Someday all the hurting will be worth it, and someday… I will show you battle scars and say, ” I had the strength to keep stumbling on… because I knew you would be there at the end to help me. I love you, and I will forever and always. Till the day I take my last breath… I will breathe for you.”
I write

Not feeling so hot.

I feel so on the brink, deteriorating, shaky and wrong. I'm happy, I'm the person I've always wanted to be, but I feel wrong.
I'll stare into space... seeing nothing and feeling s if my head is about to explode, like I'll fade into the darkness....
I feel as if on the verge of passing out, like my breathes are slowing and I'm living with only a little oxygen flowing through my veins. I'm drowsy all the time, tired and unlively. I'm excited, I'm not held back by anything I only wish to succeed. I just don't know what's wrong.
Hypochondria runs in the family, I guess I should say that, but this is something because I've never felt like this before. It feels wrong. I don't feel good. I don't know what is wrong with me. i do'nt like feeling this sick, and weak, and gross. Unfocused. Skeptic.
I guess I could just write a bunch of words, taths' all these are in my feint stupor. Hysteria, i feel like I'm manually shutting down and all the little workers inside of my brain are closing up and locking up tonight, without telling me of course. I don't know what to do. Surely it doesn't make sense. Is there something I could take that could gelp me get more oxygen? I feel like that would make eeverything better, but.... I don't know. Ugh. I feel awful, and tired, and numb. But not in the hurt way, in the "I feel numb because i'm not functioning" kind of way.
What. The. Hell.

Tear.

God I TEAR these words from my lips, the long forgotten “I’m sorry” meant to be whispered long ago.

My eyes search for your soul, search for your light, I reach out my hands yearning to touch you. Hold you. Feel your presence.

This fog, I need it to be lifted. My eyes are bleary eyed, foggy, teary eyed. I don’t see anymore, I stumble in the dark. I’ve learned to embrace letting in any feelings I can. God these filters I wear show me only the worlds tear on us, show the corrosive sandpaper that wears us away.

God I see you somewhere, in the moments when I least expect it. In the moments I wish to be alone, you come in those moments. You push through that wall. You step over my boundaries and you meet me where I haven’t been met.

I can’t do that back and forth, the non understanding, the stumbling and trembling, and laying awake in the dark.

Everyone has their challenges, but the world could be challenge free for all I know. All I see god is the mist that hazes over everything, mixes up my directions, leaves me flat on the ground.

God I’m bleeding out on this dirt road, this back road, this place that I have no idea where. The trees grow too high, and too close, I can’t see the sun anymore.

God I cry out to you, but there’s nothing but a low echo as my voice carries off of dead oak. God there’s a fire coming to take us and I’m next in line. God…

Bring me understanding, make these feelings go away. If you’re there and you care clear my mental fog and bring the understanding I’m missing, is there something so wrong with that? It could be me and just a big empty world that is all I see, feel, get.

God, there has to be more if not I don’t understand life. Where is the gold tablet with the inscription written in lighting? Where is the love that exists only in heaven? Where is the church when we need it most? No not religion, not the buildings and parking lots we spend out tithe on? God WHERE are your people? Where are they hiding amongst this war that’s raging? Where are their hearts? Their souls are no where to be found because I’m a lost and broken thing, and not one has been reaching out to me. Not till now.

So why now?

Why this way, why in the night and the dark, and the time before day? Why with words, why can’t there be you, ” Why can’t there be something for me to get through to you…” You say.

I’m paving my way, hazing on days, everything from my past has become a trip lost on the tray. Carried away, God by the butler you gave. I can’t call him back cause I don’t know his name.

I’m being pushed forward, lost in the crowd, God I’d scream but everyone is being too loud. You say “You’re there for me child” I’m a scared and I’m wild. Wild with the thoughts of another day being lied to. Four walls hold my roof, but it’s the gnashing of teeth that prevents me from screaming and becoming the being. I keep seeing demons God, they come in the night. Infiltrate my dreams, and take away my sight. I can’t see anymore, all I see is the fear. The terror, I’m the wearer, it’s a fear my dear. I’ve become a regular, so lost in this den. The lions left for lunch and I’m trapped in this bed. I’m never getting out, I’m shackled to the top, God there has to be a key that someone else hid last time. God I’m crying, and writhing, and rocking back and forth. There comes I time when I just can’t take anymore. It’s the moment, the beginning, the time where I end. Here I am God this is the end. Nights of the torture nights of the terrors, back and forth we play this game of who ends up dead first?

I can’t take their games, I can’t fight their rhymes. Their words cut me deep like a sword and a scythe. Back and forth battered, bruised and tattered. God I’m tore up from the floor up and there’s no getting back up now. If this is my kingdom, on the threshold of pain, let me walk with the monsters if that’s all I have to gain. The confusion the madness, the agony and sadness is at the point where I’m ready to break. God I’ve handed in my blood soaked rag, bleeding out of every orifice, I’m at my limit Lord and surely you know it.

So here’s my final plea, and I mean every word. If there’s a way out, to pay out, just let it be heard. The drams are too much, give me liquor-laced laze. God let your sweet hands remove this murky haze. I don’t want religion, or the buildings erected, I want the people inside that have been misdirected. Where is your body Lord, the last of your people. Because God I’m the little child, who needs your love to fight of this evil.

One Kiss

What do you do when you're scared?
Terrified.
Horrified
Worried Sick.
It's easy to talk about yourself, to tell people... but it's another to show them.
I can tell you about the hurt that I've been through, I can smile and wave to the past and have no cares in my life. I can do a lot of things. But I can't hide this.
I can't hide this irrational fear, that somewhere underneath this surface, there's more that I won't ever understand. And then it will fall apart again.
Through my eyes, I've seen the colors of blurring skin, I've seen the black of night against darker water, I've seen the smiles and the fading grins, the hidden smirks, the hurt behind light eyes. I've seen the person in the mirror when I step in front of it.
There's something there, behind all of the happenings and hurt, that I can't shake.
There's this uneasy feeling, uneasy, scared little girl looking at the world through hurt eyes. Is it wrong to not want to keep up this constant fight?
All I want... All I want is a place of safety, sanctity, a home.
The lies hurt me everytime, I'll wear the mask to this masquerade that we call life.
I've come to this moment... where my dreams at night, that seem so real... I feel like they are. All the times I've seen those that I love, at night, during the day, the back and forth is killing me, this deja vu is breaking me. If there was any better breaking point as any this is it.
God, if you're there, here's my hand and I need you to help me get up from this place. I need someplace to go and take refuge. I need to be me, but I need to be a me that I love.
I need to find this place that I can be happy.
It doesn't come down to how I look
who I'm with
My friends
My faith
it comes down to something more... something that I need. what the hell is it?
Why do I have to be with people that treat me like I am nothing?
When it all comes down to it... if you expect to lose someone... expect to give up on them. Don't leave things the way that has happened to me everytime.
Every. single. Time.
There's always someone else, and each time I fall they leave me there to be kicked in the throat, I'll gasp on the little air that I have if that's all I have left. Just please, could I have an answer to any of my questions?
Why did he treat me like that God? What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently and why do I have to keep getting hurt over and oever again. It's not a clean break each time, it's "I'm down, they kick, I'm down they kick some more."
All that is left of me is a black and broken bruised shell of a body, confused out of my mind, stumbling and trembling to stand up again. My lungs have collapsed, my fingers bloody from trying to drag myself along broken glass.
There's a reason that I'm a female I think... because I couldn't handle taking care of everything. I couldn't deal with being incharge of an entire family. What I need most, is someone to lead me to guide to be by my side ready to catch me when I fall. When I fall... I do'nt need more beatings, I need a hand to help me up.
The things I have seen, as different people stand over me looking at me with the same look I look past the eyes and see the soul underneath. The intentions.
If you can say "love" one moment and let it die on your lips not even a day later. I don't think I will ever know love.
How could someone like me deserve someone as special as that? I don't. I don't know. I don't undesrstand.
I'll never get that partner, I'll never get that companion, that love, because I don't know if there will ever be someone.  Someone equally yoked to me. Someone that knows and understands and can talk to me about the things that matter, to take me away from this awful place that we call "home". World is not home it's a prison meant to trap our souls. Meant to leave us broken and bleeding. It's not a cycle of life, it's a sprint to escape. We aren't like anyone else yet we end up in catagories such as others. I want to be unique, special, different. I want to be alive, not this half understood, used up crap. I can't handle much more. I need more.
It's a fear. These are the fears I have, they bring me to my knees in the dead of night, they punch my in the stomach with iron fists and kick me with steel-tipped boots. Bleeding out.
Ugh. One kiss was all it took to bring up a swell of thoughts I've been holding back for a long time. What does that mean?

Mask?

My lovely apocalypse drawing. Believe it or not I was trying to draw just a girl and then the mask decided to show up.. yadda yadda yadda.... and this is where it went :}

A poem-to my missing sketchbook. May your absence be worth it

I stare at the ground, twiddling my thumbs in anxiety.
The distance seems so beautiful I wish I could record such a think, oh wait!
I grab for my purse, lightining fast, mixing the contents around like soup.
Plucking and pulling, thrusting and throwing, my sketchbook is no where to be found.
"It's just bound paper," they say... weeks later as I refuse to draw a single thing.
"You don't understand," I mutter, because really... I didn't either.
A simple booklet.
Blank pages milky white.
The mystery of what it may hold in a year, in a month, in a day.
Gone *snapping fingers* just like that.
I'll find you someday, but until... I refuse to draw. Your absence is too painful.
All my thougths can wait, be jammed up, and lost.
That's how stubborn I have become.
Because of the idea of a simple mass of blank, bound pages.