Saturday, November 29, 2014

Angel

I lit the tall white candle and asked the angels to watch over me for one more night.

I have depression and low self esteem, even at 40,
Something I learned when I was 16
I am lifting my confidence into the sky, but sometimes I ask for angels

perhaps alone on frozen ground
perhaps alone on sacred ground
the ground I walk on everyday
one will lead me
to see what I need is what I want

a refuge from another day of dying on a strangled planet
I have low confidence my voice barley whispers
even when it's something I really want

I'm falling into the stormy seas
Snow flakes and angels
Pushed like a cross
From the cliffs upon the sea

I ask for another angel from the heavens
I'm all alone and need their powers to make it through the night

Bring down your angel wings and protect me through the winter
through this growing under snow: covered streets and houses

Swimming through the stormy seas
a hypothermic stranger
pushed upon the shore by tides
and able to knock on a strangers door

You can't hear me, I'm a new woman
You can't see me I'm dancing in the light
You don't need me, I'm not your mother

I'm an independent woman
So watch me walk like the winner
of this stretch of path called life

 
Alone I lit the tall white candle
used the heat to warm my hands
asked the angels to wrap their wings around me
for one more night.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

A rebuild





rebuilt my house
rebuilt my soul
cleaned out the broken
brought in the new
covered the cracks
made walls stronger
cleared the fireplace
made breath warmer

scooped up loved ones
took them with me
rebuilt the door
that let you in and out
rebuilt the desk
I write you love letters on
and still
still
I am without you

rebuilt the heart
and how it beats
everyday
rebuilt the chemicals
in the brain
rotted out the sadness
and replaced it with sunshine

and you said it couldn't be done

Sunlight will rise in the morning
just be alive
in the darkness

Sunday, November 9, 2014

MS Fear

The truth is I'm scared and I push it all down. I know I push it down because I wake up from my dreams confused frightened and disturbed. During the day there is nothing that can stop me . I live alone, I eat at returants by myself, I go to movies by myself, I don't drive so I walk and take cabs.

The truth is I'm scared, I'm sure I'll get this novel done and this script done and people will know I did know what I was talking about and I could do it. But until then I'm scared that I will keep living like this day in and day out. I'm scared of the power bill this winter I scared of the drive way and it's need to be plowed I'm afraid of singing to loud and upsetting the neighbours I'm afraid
of getting into that cab by myself and how the cab driver will think of me all alone and not able to do everything 100 percent by myself what people will think of me if I need help.

The truth is I keep going and it rots my sleep. It rots my health because I'm on anti depressants it rots my friendships because I'm so busy "hiding it all in" that I have nothing to talk to. SO scared that people are judging my life that I don't talk about it.

Awake I'm not afraid but deep inside I break through a lot of barriers just to eat breakfast in the morning, just to take the cat out for a walk, afraid that she'll dash out in the road. Chase the neighbours cat, chase the cat under the porch.

I'm afraid I can't afford music lessons and groceries after rent is paid that I've used too much of my savings for fun this summer for the unexpected like stepping on the lap top and having to get a new one.

And yet I sing and layers and layers of emotional garbage fall from me and I feel free and I feel like I know who I am. And I know that although I may not be able to get that new couch I wanted I get that new me I wanted. I am scared I don't practice enough. I'm scared I haven't written enough over the past 15 years trying to pull my shit together. My ego, in my dreams , goes all the things that could go wrong if I'm successful, and because I'm not, and I just want to get this shit written down.

When I went to the city last weekend I had nightmares for two days of not knowing where I was when I woke up of living in many different houses with many different people. When I lived in the city, in different houses and different people, all I wanted was to be alone and when I was alone I was frightened. And I was alone, but it didn't stop me from doing things, I fought through the fear and it affected me other ways.

This is the first year (and coffee helps A LOT) where I can come home and spend the night awake and writing. This is the first year in a long time I can focus and do things. This is the first time I can lead my mind to write and create and be strong enough to lock myself in a little room with two cats and write. But it's frightening. What if the words aren't there. What if they are, what if after I get it all done I have to do all this editing. (I looked at what I've got so far and it needs a lot of editing.) It doesn't happen over night, nothing has happened for me over night everything has taken time and that time is frightening.

So deep breath Ms Thang You're afraid, so is most of the population, you just admitted it now be with the fear so you can get through it and not have it control your sleeps anymore. Not let it control your friendships and your life.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Heart Shaped Rocks

Hello my lover
Hello myself
I place
This heart shaped rock
Between us
And open up
To the truth

Take my hand
We'll explore
A million pasts
Across a million planets

We speak
Like ghosts of the past
Sulking through
Cracks in the house

I hear us breathe
I hear us think
I hear the silence
I've been yearning for

You all day

I am a traveller
But I want to spend
This life
In this spot

Everything else can fall away


We will find
Our heart shaped rocks
In the mire
 

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Cat Cave

Just an update from the Cat Cave. That's what I'm calling my bed room. I'm cleaning it up now so I don't feel bad spending so much time in there. I have brought the writing desk and the tree in from the sun porch and have put the desk in my bed room.

It's winter now, the time will go back tonight, and it'll be dark when I leave for work and dark when I come home from work. It'll be cold and over whelming and Duncanville eats heat like crazy, there are so many holes and leaks throughout the tiny apartment.

It's the time of year where I curl up and sleep through the darkness which is a lot of sleeping. I feel helpless to my body and helpless about what the days are doing. I'm beating it this year.

I'm going to devour my endless books in the darkness, in the candle light, I'm going to drag the computer in the bat cave and write until 9 or 10 o clock at night I have some ideas I'm working with.

And I'm going to sing.

The depression of the winter will not beat me down.

So far I'm in love with my self time.