What’s It All For?

 Sometimes I wish I could let my family see the intrusive thoughts that make up the real me. 

Then and only then could I drop my guard, and authentically be me.

I’ve been running from these so called loved ones my whole life. 

They stand on unconditional love, but wipe their feet with it.  

It’s brought nothing but pain, disappointment, and regret. 

I’ve been fighting against them since I was a child.  

It’s greater than sexuality, race or gender. 

It’s squalls beyond higher thinking and the true nature of the soul.

People often refer to the term soul-searching without truly understanding its significance. 

I pray for future generations and all that come after, that we, as a society will finally accept people for who they are.  

Not what they look like, what they believe, or how they act. 

Acceptance, not fear. 

Acknowledgment, not vitriol.

No meddling. 

No judgement. 

Just peace and understanding. 

Don't Go

I can feel the annual shift.

My post summer glow, 
fading.

A mental health nose dive,
as the days get shorter,
and the sun sets her retirement.

One last ride,
as the humidity sinks in,
turning everyone into the terrible, 
no good, 
rotten beings they truly are. 

I anticipated change with age.

What I didn't foresee,
is how shut off,
and inconsiderate the world would become.  

The new normal is to hate.

It's passing strangers,
and ignoring

It's avoiding.

Disengaging from human interaction. 

The easiest thing to do is assimilate,
and adapt. 

And yet,
I resist. 

So as the remaining summer months say their goodbye,
I try to strive.

The fall month,
I will thrive.

Bringing winter, 
which I always try to survive.

God help us all.  

Return To Sender

One of my burdens,
is that I carry all the negativity of the world with me.  

I don't remember when it first happened.

I was young. 

Friends and family started projecting their toxic traits on me.

I was treated as their lesser. 

As a wanderlust child,
it was jarring.

I was so used to bathing in the warmth of the world.

Imagine closing your eyes,
face to the sun,
basking in your glow.

Someone kicks the back of your knees out,
and laughs.

You hit the cracked concrete,
breaking the skin on both knees,
and blooding your palms.  

Religion warns you about the evils of the world.

What they don't sell,
is once it finds you,
it is always abound. 

Sometimes in the ones you trust.

This cuts the deepest.

As children,
we just want to exist.

As you get older,
it gets harder to hold on to that. 

Especially as an empath. 

I wish I could live my life,
with not a care in the world.

Instead,
I'm cursed to absorb others bullshit,
and feel my body disintegrate.

Each passing summer,
my existence is celebrated. 

There's cake,
ice cream,
gifts,
and love. 

I shed a layer of negativity,
and try returning the light. 

It's short lived,
because with the ying,
comes the yang.

And the grind resumes.

So I persist,
reforming a protective layer,
and taking the emotional blows in stride.

 

 

 

Let It Go

I started as a clean white sheet.

As time goes by,
I've become twisted,
and tattered.

Prone to others bullshit,
dirt,
and grime.

Instead of living authentically,
I bend to the will of others.

Why is there a collective decision that everything needs to be the same?

Why preemptively question anything that doesn't align with your values? 

I carry all the glares,
the put downs,
the hostile energy,
and general negativity. 

For years I've been trying to understand the rationale of bad behavior. 

I experienced all of this at a young age. 

Parents try to shield their children from the horrors of the real world,
but what if the horrors already exist behind closed doors? 

I've been running for years,
to be who I really am,
and yet,
I can never truly be.

It hurts too much. 

Others will always judge,
so it's easier opening the door a crack,
rather than opening it completely.

How can you be judged,
if no one knows you completely?

Time and time again,
I've rested my head,
and prayed to the higher power.

Take me.

I am ready.

But I'm still here. 

I refuse to be the one to end it,
because there has to be a bigger purpose.

The logical side of my brain tells me it's to learn.

The irrational side tells me it's karma.

I know for a fact that I've lived many lives.

Some selfishly,
and unkind. 

Is this my punishment for those deeds?

To feel the worlds hurt,
and carry others burdens?

I'm ready to release the cries of a 1000 souls,
and make good on all the terrible things I once did. 

 

Goodnight Cruel World

Every morning,
I try not to harden my heart. 

From a jarring wake up,
to the cold air that greats me,
I can't help but feel,
completely uneasy.

I step outside,
and pray for forgiveness,
for I know what's to follow,
in this forsaken business.

Tailgating,
traffic,
and angry music,
anxiety,
fatigue,
with a little bit of panic.

The highs can be fleeting,
while the lows are depleting.

After all is said and done,
and I'm given none,
I lie myself to sleep,
and dream of sweet peace.

Good night cruel world.

Till we meet again.

Washed Out

Your crippling anxiety,
and life asserting events,
has no importance to others.

In the end,
our journey is solitary.

Some stories are significant,
while others are just an imprint in the sand,
washed away by the tide.

Take a moment to stop,
look,
and listen. 

You only get one shot to break the fifth wall.

Wonder Not

Savor what quiet time you have.

We are overwhelmed with,
attention seeking moments.

Don't let the noise,
lure you in,
to drown you. 

Live,
let live,
and stay out of others way.

Peace is not inherited,
it's earned.

Whip Cream It Up

I feel like the shell of a sweet ice cream treat.

Fancifully put together.

Broken into a million pieces.

Everyone wants a taste,
but I belong to only one.

Each bite savored in between licks. 

Time is against us,
but I know it will all be over soon.

Neither of us can catch our breath.

I serve a purpose,
but I can't stop thinking of my carefree days.

When I was a hopeful little treat.

Youthful,
carefree,
superficial troubles in sight. 

I no longer have my protective shell.

Underneath is the real me,
a sticky sweet mess. 

Left to drip,
drop,
and devour.

With each bite,
I become less and less.

Until,
I am,
no.....

Wrung Out

As I stare out my window,
I contemplate good memories,
and bad deeds.

To those that came before me,
I'm sorry.

To those who rise after,
best of luck.