5/8/2023 10:50a
Goodbyes have always been easy for me.
People come and go.
No foundation has ever been stable. I’ve learned to move with the bends of the ground.
I’m self-sufficient.
But, I think that’s changing. I think I’m changing.
The fires consumed me entirely.
I’ve always desired to run back in for others.
I can pull more people with less armor.
Undefended I run back in.
I’m vulnerable to the embers.
I had to let you in to show you.
I had to let you in to understand you.
We have come together, connecting in the rawest form a human being can.
Soul and soul.
In this space, we heal.
Your imprint is left.
Now, I let go and run back in for more.
5/6/2023
I watch the wind blow through the trees. The power lines rock back and forth.
My mind is so heavy.
My body is so heavy. I can’t move it.
That’s the thought and emotion, can’t.
I close my eyes… I can’t sleep.
I can’t be here anymore so I leave
I’m unraveling and I don’t know how to stop it or slow it down
I’m struggling…
I’m fighting to be here and sometimes I wonder, what for?
5/7/2023 Happy Trees
As you know, I’m always focused on the hotdog.
Sometimes, no- often I miss the life occurring around me.
I’m blinded by the drive to survive and I can’t stop.
You understand that.
I miscalibrated the connection I have to you.
I’ve been reflecting on the relationships in my life.
I dissect the origin and progression of these connections.
Trust is a deeply wounded function of mine.
Yet, sometimes I can gamble with it.
I suppose it’s not much of a gamble in this sense.
There’s this circle I’ve created along the way.
The trust I have in these connections is unreal.
Least for me.
I don’t know what 100% trust looks like for me or if I have access to it.
But this circle contains whatever highest access I have to offer.
As I reflect on the progression, there is not a singular identifiable event.
Not one definitive piece of evidence that drives me to hand over the ticket.
This is why it’s not a gamble. Not with some people.
Not with you.
It’s a sense.
It’s a deep knowing and feeling.
I believe in soul connections.
Connections established eons ago.
It’s not a gamble to trust in a connection like this.
I only need to be brave enough to speak fear into the room.
Willing enough to acknowledge I have recognized you.
I’m an art museum of stories.
Achingly smeared across the walls.
I keep the ugly, messy parts of me in forbidden exhibits.
They crowd the halls.
I’ve shown you glimpses.
I’ve given you pieces.
Things I deny others access to.
This darkness would consume them, but not you.
You reflect it back at me.
Something about this feels safe and familiar.
Profoundly dark but safe.
All this to say, three big words.
I trust you.
5/4/2023
The shame intensifies. Shame, a familiar friend. It always seems to find me in my lowest moments. I’m trying my best. I’m depleted. I think it’s my best. (Enters shame)
My best most days, is ugly and messy. It’s too loud and I run. I seek the escape and the distance. I’ve stored jars of this stuff for years. They’ve collected dust in the back of shelves in forbidden rooms. I’ve cracked one open and realized it soured.
It’s poison. How could so much poison live in one space, one person?
I look at this wall of jars and realize I’m in the fight of my life.
5/4/2023
I’ve tried to pick up the brush. I fill the cup with water and line up the paint. I set the palette and rags. Ready.
I stare at the blank canvas.
The images and clips move through my head but I can’t pick up the brush.
I’m frozen. I’ve been here before. 10 years ago.
I abandoned the brush and discarded the canvas.
It’s so loud and it moves through me.
It’s the only way.
It’s like a current of suffering moving down my arms.
It moves the paint and aches on the canvas.
This act is the connecting of two forces. Two worlds.
Existing in the in-between rips through me.
I walk away and wonder if it’ll be another 10 years
4/27/2023
“I contemplate texting you
I sometimes miss your charm
You’d say something about how the stars
Have been looking like the freckles on my arm
Or how you thought about me
That’s always nice to hear
How I’m the first thought you have after downing each beer
How you considered reaching out
How you didn’t know what to say
How you remembered and then forgot
To speak to me each day
I contemplate your actions
The meaning in your eyes
How your “unintentional” silence
Cause a multitude of lies
Or whole reflection of truths
I honestly don’t know which is worse
You hit the gas
But our car is stuck in reverse
I tell you to be careful
But You don’t like looking back
I bring up responsibility
“But you really need to start cutting me some slack!”
You don’t understand
This mentality puts us in danger
You played with my heart when you could have just stayed a stranger
I’m reaching for the break
I don’t care to be understood
And when the car suddenly stops
You ask, “so are we still good?”
-Celia
My eyes are flooded. It starts in my chest and rises like a wave. The strongest wave of loving grief. I can’t make my heart stop loving. I can’t reset or reboot. It envelops me. The love wasn’t lost. I don’t grieve losing love because mine exists within me. I grieve the loss of something I once thought I understood. I once knew, you.
There is a space you have left in my life. I hadn’t realized how loud the echo in here would be. I’m wounded and perhaps this will always be my loving wound.
4/27/2023
If I don’t speak fear into the room then maybe it isn’t happening. Maybe I get to keep him. I’ve never been ready for these kinds of losses. They’ve always left just as fast as they’ve come. Not him though. I’ve had twelve years of companionship. Twelve years of being loved, cared for, seen, and protected. Why does he have to go? I need him now more than ever. The roles have reversed. I ease his anxiety and fears. I hope to regulate him just as he has for me all these years.
I’m not ready to live with the spaces he will leave in my life and in my heart. It’s selfish to ask him to stay. I know he can’t but man how I wish he could. I would take care of him forever. My King.
4/26/2023
I count the objects in the room. Shapes, shades, and textures.
I’m surrounded by air and I pull for it.
The frequency fills the room.
But it’s louder.
Stronger
I rock, I tap, I rub.
Her screams explode out of me
I implode in shame
Their voices slide down my spine
I drown the noise
A refill- exchange fear for courage?
Just for the moment
I keep a tally of losses
The stripes cover these walls.
Will I ever stop marking the walls?
4/26/2023
Why is the narrative about what men have done to me? My name echoes down the hallway. The intensity comes back with such force it squeezes the air out of my body. I’m flooded. All over again. This isn’t love. I’m on fire. They tie me down and burn me at the stake. My skin parts and I’m exposed.
This isn’t love.
They take me in. Like vultures, I’m worth more dead. Empty, hollow. Piece by piece. They swarm me. Nothings left. Nothing.
4/20/2023
I keep wishing he would have shot me. I’ve had this fantasy for as long as I could remember. It wouldn’t be so bad. It’s never scared me. Death isn’t suffering, living is. I fixate on what it’d be like…. *click*. The yelling stops. It’s not so loud anymore. Least, that’s what I’d hope it’d be. If I’m truly honest, this indifference is a fantasy.
I’m exhausted. I’m told over and over it’s supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be hard and tiring. I’m not special or any different in my response to this suffering. However, I don’t think this was supposed to be my life. I don’t think shit just went wrong, over and over again. I also think I’m a good liar. Where people find or see the strength in me is beyond me.
I’m exhausted.
4/8/2023
I know you needed love
I know you needed safety
I know you need these things and more
I hear you
And when I don’t, I feel you
I know but I’ve been scared
I’m sorry
I’m trying
I’m trying to be who you needed
I want to love you
It’s scary for me too
You’ve been on fire
And I’ve been too scared to walk back in for you
Your screams burst my eardrums
I know you’re here
I’m learning for you
I’m coming for you…
4/8/2023
My footsteps echo down the long hallways
The ceilings are high
And the air is crisp
The hairs on the back of my neck-at attention
I have no shoes on
The space comes into me from below
My vision is narrow but I feel it all
The vibrations of these spaces move through me
The stories are smeared all over the walls
Shades of black layered and moved
There’s a door
It’s so dark. I can barely make it out
It doesn’t get any clearer
Regardless of how much space I close
There’s heat here
It’s hell.
The bolts and locks on this door are bright red
I reach out
Hesitate
Her screams get louder
So loud I can’t think
I can’t breathe
I can’t move
I can’t be
I can’t!
I reach out and pull the locks and bolts off
They sink into my hands
What have I done?
3/25/2023 Soulmate
In the rush of running
Which I still am very much doing
I’ve missed the truth in this fight
I’ve missed her face
It’s been there for 25 plus years
But it’s a faint blur
I’m hyper-focused!
I’m zoned in!
I’m starving!
I’m blind to the details around me
She’s been here…
It’s quiet…
Not a sound…
My eyes refocus
There’s warmth in this space
The light hits her face, reflects back at me off her eyes
I tell the optometrist- “this one, hold it here… this one’s clear”.
A reel of images and stories flood my mind as they always have
This time I catch her…
Split seconds of stillness in these moments
Her face again, it’s the same-
Warmth reflected back at me
Regardless of my inability to see it, to receive it
I come broken, wounded, dark, and messy
She doesn’t fix it, she doesn’t change it
She doesn’t resist it
She’s still…
The silence is broken
The words burn like alcohol on a wound
“I love you”-she says
I love you too xxxxxx.
3/24/2023
Pandora’s box
It’s not a gift to me
But it is luring
The juxtaposition of this box terrifying me yet luring me…
It’s odd
What’s in this damn box?
I don’t know
My body knows
The corners of my mind know
But, really,… my soul knows
And man is it tired
Not the tired that sleep can relieve
This eternal tired
It’s been around for eons
It has known great suffering
Could it maybe know,…
Great healing?
3/20/2023
The feeling has always been, “not enough”
Never enough
But I’m beginning to wonder if it’s been, “too much”
Maybe the things I seek and represent are too much for the rooms I’m standing in
Not for any other reason than they are just the wrong rooms for me
I mull over the things I must filter
The ways I must make myself small and take up the least amount of space
Don’t be too loud
Don’t laugh
Don’t show what I might know…
3/14/2023
I made the choice
This is the difference between you and I
I didn’t find myself here
I didn’t fall
No sweeping off my feet.
I grabbed your hand and walking right into love, into you
You sold me a dream
I knew better but just maybe, this dream could be real
She was denied the opportunity to believe in dreams
To believe in fairy tales
Life was consumed in nightmares
You may not understand these nightmares
But I know you saw the pain
Maybe you were too busy selling me a dream
And in the end, only giving me a nightmare.