Thursday, November 3, 2011

Come Winter Rewrite

It’s very cold

The endless Winter surrounds her as her moth bitten ash coat keeps her clothed, but never warm. The key to her survival lies within her frozen entirety: the icicles driven through her heart. These bloodless sacrifices keep her from needing warmth because the chill is already within her. There’s no defeat for there is no pain, only numbness
She walks from home to home to beg, absorbing those few sporadic bursts of warmth. She feels treated with human compassion just as rarely. Doors open for short period until they see what has come. One short blast of body warming heat later and they shut the door
It’s ok though. Empathy is not something that she expected, but those memories of the fleeting warmth cling to her. They intrigue her, embrace her, and give her reasons to keep walking forward.
Every once in awhile, someone wavers on indecision and their door remains open for longer than expected. In those bittersweet times, heat surrounds her being, letting her imagine what being completely warm might feel like. At those times, the icicles within her reveal their curse as they begin to thaw.
Pain suddenly pierces through her enjoyment of the freeing warmth and her numbness begins to drains away.
But it’s ok. She doesn’t expect friendliness for too long. She never hopes for her heart to truly heal by finding a safe and permanent place that would give her time to fully thaw completely. She doesn’t believe in the outside help that would be needed to stitch the fully thawed ripping remains of what froze her. Her faith is as cold as the rest of her
So she fed on the fleeting heat, never believing that she could want for more.
One night she knocked on a door. It was a door that wasn’t different from any of the others she’s knocked on. When he eased the door open, wondering who could bear to be in this bitter environment, he looked upon her and stared in shock and horror. Although she was used to horror at her image, she had never seen a compassionate expression like this be for her ice covered and thoroughly chilled self. She stared at him, dazed by his sympathy. She stumbled with shock when he ushered her inside his home. She stood in the hall awkwardly and he guided her to his fireplace, gathering blankets around her.


She warned him that her cold went deep and her pain once thawed would need a great amount of attention and care. That she could die if his warmth unfroze too much of her only to be kicked back into the cold.
They talked as she began to reveal her inner scars and he wasn’t frightened away. Even though he never said the words, he seemed to indicate that he would sing her into sleep and patch her scars. So, she fell asleep to his voice filled with promise.
She thawed. Her numbness gave way as the deep scars within her chest opened fresh and bleeding from the warmth around her. At first, he tended to her while she was sleeping but the scars were deep and so much more serious than he could ever have expected. The pain that should have awakened her was blocked by her belief that she had found somewhere safe and that she was going to be ok. She bled.
She woke from her slumber with bone quaking shivers and searing hot pains coming from within her. She realized she was outside again, the winter now even colder because her wounds suffered the agony of being open to the air.
She tried to move on like she had previously, home to home but never staying long. However, her heart wouldn’t heal and the blood kept the icicles that would have given her familiar relief from forming again. More and more she bled as she tried to keep going. She wasn’t ok anymore
Finally, she collapsed into the snow. Strangers walked by promising that eventually she would get help but she only lay dying, regretful of the false hope that had gotten her here. As she sunk further into the snow, she was filled with a dread that told her


“You’ll never be ok again”

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Fight Agony Fighting

My chest is heaving painfully
Dry air bellows from my super sensitive lungs as I run
And run
There’s pain behind me
A indistinct rising mass
So I fight to run
And run
But my legs are so weak
They shake and spasm from exhaustion
But I still force myself to run
Except now i only crawl
Finally something whispers in my head
“what happens if you stop fighting”
the whisper trips me and I go down
I stay down
And the pain washes through me sharp
But as I am whisked away
My poor body is relieved

Thursday, September 15, 2011

White Room with a 24-hour Sitter

Your lips possessed a fire pressed lightly
Gentle and warm, with no room to fight myself
I was the anemone,
something fragile.
Some of my swaying fronds discolored or frayed.
I revealed to you, my friend, a sweet smelling and slightly sweating hand
With which you used to pull me closer, with a touch of excitement.
But I misunderstood your purpose or you misunderstood your malice
I thought you held peace within your embrace but I was strung and laced with oiled string
That burned grooves into my collarbone
And something thrilling, with the fear I had tried to overlook and bury
Unearthed itself little by little
Anxiety building,
growing so tall that I had to force myself to let go
But it wasn’t soon enough
I hit the ground. I shattered. My anger died and was reborn into a monster that I had hoped would consume us both
But it’s only me that stares out of this white room, sitting on this white medical bed,
Looking out at a world that I wont rejoin
Until I piece back together what I thought was mine.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Formed Poetry

Coffee
The cup rises
To my lips haltingly
The closer it came the more my heart
crumbled

Monday, April 11, 2011

New Things

Coffee Break

Her hand tipped the coffee haltingly towards her mouth
As if the closer she lifted the cup
The more her heart crumbled

Friday, March 11, 2011

Her Frigid Heart (short story)

It’s very cold

The endless Winter surrounds her

Her moth bitten ash coat keeps her alive

But not warm

But she is kept alive

In her frozen entirety

By the icicles driven through her heart

Bloodless sacrifices keep her from needing warmth

The chill is already within her

And it’s not a defeat

For there is no pain

Only numbness


She walks

Home to home to beg

For the few sporadic bursts of warmth

Sporadic as human compassion

Doors open for short period until they see what has come

One short blast of body warming heat later and they shut the door

It’s ok

Empathy is not something that was expected

But the memories of the fleeting warmth cling to her

And sustain her


Sometimes, wavering on indecision

The door stay open for longer than expected

In those bittersweet times, heat surrounds her being

Letting her imagine what it would be like to be

Submerged in heat for more than quick moments

But as the fires thaw her body, they thaw the icicles in her heart

Pain pierces her relief as her numbness becomes slightly undone

But it’s ok

She doesn’t expect friendliness for too long

She never hopes for her heart to truly heal

By the way of thawing the cold within her

And the stitches that would be needed for her heart if finally it could escape the cold

Because the scars in her heart caused by the ripping remains of what froze her

Would need an outsider’s aid to keep her alive

And her faith in human compassion is as cold as the rest of her


It’s ok

She was used to the fleeting heat

And the endless cold that followed her


Until one night

She knocked on a door

A door that wasn’t different from any of the others she’s knocked on

But when he opened the door

He stared at her in shock and horror

Not the horror she expected though

It was horror at the cold within her

The ice that had encased her

She felt dazed by his compassion and sympathy

Especially when he ushered her in

Still in shock

She stood in the hall awkwardly

He guided her to his fireplace

Gathered blankets around her


She warned him

That her cold went deep

That her pain once freed would need

A great amount of attention

And that she could die if his warmth unfroze too much of her

Only to be kicked back into the cold

They talked

She revealed her inner scars

And he wasn’t frightened away

Even though he never said the words

He seemed to indicate that he would sing her into sleep

patch her scars

and she fell asleep to his voice filled with promise


So she thawed

Her numbness gave way as the deep scars within her chest

Opened fresh and bleeding from the warmth around her

At first he tended to her while she was sleeping

But the scars were deep

So much more serious than he could ever have expected

And the pain that should have awaken her

Was blocked by her belief that she had found somewhere safe

That she was going to be ok

So she bled


She woke from her slumber with bone quaking shivers

And searing hot pains coming from within her

She realized she was outside again

Then winter just as cold as before

In fact

It was colder because her open wounds no longer possessed numbness

Only the pain of being open to the air

She tried to move on like she had previously

Home to home but not staying long

But her heart wouldn’t heal

The blood kept the icicles that would provide her numbness

From forming again

More and more she bled as she tried to keep going

She wasn’t ok anymore

Finally she collapsed into the snow

Strangers walked by promising that eventually she would get help

But she only lay dying in the snow

Regretful of the hope that had gotten her here

And haunted by the dread the filled her

A dread that told her



You’ll never be ok again

Friday, February 18, 2011

Poems from a Sick Mind

Letting My Light Shine

I believed I possessed my own light. Maybe it wouldnt be seen by everyone, but it would be seen. I displayed this light proudly, sure to be recognized by someone... but the years passed. Any notice that my shine garnered were either scathing looks or temporary interest. And so im left wondering, did i ever have a light at all? was it just something I made up in my head as a defensive shield to blind me of the fact that i possess no light and i am worth nothing. I mean how can a light be there, if no one notices?


Black Sheep

I used to believe that I was just special and unique... but I am passed by, and shut out. In a flock im not the black sheep... in fact, im not a sheep at all. im just a worthless mess shitted out and left behind.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Podcasts and Craziness

I let my crazy run free for a few hours and the Blacking It Up Podcast has proof lol. yes twitter-flirting is awesome

Thursday, January 6, 2011

New Year, New Beginning, New Day

2010 can go jump off a bridge... seriously... but just like the song Your Ex-Lover is Dead, I just need to "live through this, and you wont look back". So I'm taking another semester off and staying home... but that doesnt mean that I'm going to be inside all the time. As a matter of fact, I'm taking some community college courses (REALLY excited about that... I miss school SO much. Because I'm weird :D )... I'm also going to continue my volunteer job with my elementary school library. I am planning on doing a modern dance class at my local Ballet studio as well... not to mention the parties, jazz clubs, and shennanigans I'm going to get into once I've turned 21. For this semester, I hope I can get to the point that I'm not crying about the fact that my entire life has been messed up by this depression. I want to be able to see this as a new beginning and not just an abrupt ending. So hold on to your hat 2011, we're starting fresh!