I crave creation, I soak in constant inspiration.
I feel compelled to soar to heights I’ve never before reached.
I dream of floating on a pink cloud through the air, but then I wake up.
I’m shipwrecked, unable to speak, think, contain my anxiety demon.
I stumble and stutter and sputter evil selfish thoughts and desires best left inside my savage skull.
I ponder treatments, reasons, remedies.
I pray and recognize my fallibility and feel the weight of a thousand elephants on my chest.
I am petty, penniless, positively perplexed.
How to break out of this oyster, emerging a beautiful, yet flawed pearl.
To bring in residuals and still have a purpose for waking up in the morning.
To shatter all expectations and foul presumptions.
I feel like I am standing on a bluff with only a deep navy blue ocean below and black rocks jutting, jarring, threatening me.
My only options are slim, yet my potential energy and payoff is so great.
The crops I wish to farm are waiting for my tender hand.
I crave to make a masterpiece out of a mundane and hopeless home.
I want to be surrounded with inspirational pictures and be spurred to constantly create new ways to survive that make me a better human, Catholic, girlfriend, daughter, sister, friend.
I want to get out of my comfort zone in a fully sober state of mind.
I want to banish the evil monsters that drag me down and seek only to defeat me and deafen my heartbeat.
I want my pulse to be a beautiful song, a ray of radiance and magnificent light that cannot be dimmed.
I wish to spread my gifts and talents with the world.
Too long, I have lent my hand to meaningless projects and hidden in a cove of blankets and pillows, ignoring life, hoping it would just pass my wild, sloth-like self by and skip over considering me anything but dead.
But now I wish to walk in confidence and spread happiness to others and in turn, myself and my loved ones.
I trust God will provide when the time is right.
I want to play music, dance, write, sing, have meaningful conversations with lyricism and rhythm that never quits.
God wants me to be my joyous self and spread my talents instead of burying them.
If there is no investment, there is no return.
I must fight for knowledge, justice, and wisdom.
I must trust His Will and get out of my own way.
I am loved. I trust that if I follow the Way the Truth and the Light that one day, my vision of falling softly and peacefully through angels’ and saints’ arms will come to fruition and I will succeed in fulfilling His Mission for me.
Make me an instrument of Your Peace.
I hope to be considered a handmaiden of the Lord and have it be done unto me according to His Will.
Only then shall I achieve purity, happiness, and peace, which I can spread to the world.
My God, I am your humble servant and I trust in Your Way.

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So this is hell on earth. Sober, yet the walls close in further and further with each passing hour, minute, second. Dragon breath tickles my baby hairs on the back of my neck. Bruises bloom across my neck and my limbs. Nightmares on the movie reel inside my wretched mind. Happiness at home evaporates like vapor. Tortured and trapped. History, rewritten. Pain explosions like algae blooms in a red tide. Not one call to the authorities who could fish me from this frozen lake. Fear and pain. Tears and smoke. Why am I alive, God? What is to come of this? Where is the silver lining? Parents conflicted. Switching children, traitors in blood. Belief evades my evidence. Living in a nightmare. A beast breathes heavily next to my broken body. Trash spilled, broken decor, bills unpaid, eviction looms. Noise complaints pile up. No reconciliation in site. Satan keeps me from my Maker, yet I crave His Love so. Looking for a trap door, back door, life boat. Ridicule and hatred seethe from the monster’s pores. Trying to keep my head and wits, losing strength with every one of the hits. Medication can’t change the other not ingesting it. Blame it all on me. Crucify my lying, stupid, whorish, dumb, bitchy, psycho brain and guts. Christ, I am calling for you, but you keep letting me drown. What good can come of this? Why do you let me survive the traumas? I want a life with flowers in a vase on my own table with matching chairs. I crave a warm mattress and the tool that is a cell phone. I yearn for transportation and safety. My poor decisions and mistakes in the past do not define me, but my dedication to work, diligence, intelligence, and commitment to excellence still prevail today. Make me whole, Lord. Bring me peace. Deliver me from the evil that is under my roof. I’m your warrior, truth seeking, hardworking soldier. I go to battle for you every day. I struggle with this mental illness, but my sobriety has been long lived and there is not a bone in my body that wishes to surrender that control. That, you have given me. You’re the only one who knows my heart and my soul. Please, Lord, deliver me. Put me on a path of peace and knowledge. Let me be an instrument of your message. Please, deliver me from this suffering and pain. I love You with my whole heart. No one can judge me but You.

I bet you’re not thinking of me now, save for the ten dollars I owed you, maybe more in your opinion. I bet you didn’t think I was serious when I told you they would punish me in the worst way. I bet you thought I was exaggerating when I said that I would probably never get to see you again. I bet you thought I was lying when I lay with you on the makeshift bed and mumbled I love you by accident. I bet you thought I used you. I bet you thought it was all going according to some sick sadistic plan of my mentally savage mind.
I bet you think nothing of me now.
I bet I’m just another whore to you.
I bet you think you can beat this demon and that I may too.
I bet you’re wrong and I bet we’ll both be dead before we ever meet again.
I bet I’ll forget the outline of your jaw bone and the cartilage of your nose.
I bet I’ll forget the piercing blue hue of your irises and the angelic way you look when you fall out into opiated bliss.
I bet this was all a dream, contrived in my mind to escape my mundane reality.
I bet this was all the culmination of my freedom.
I bet this is the end of my connection to the real world.
I bet this was my bon voyage adventure.
I bet that hike we would’ve taken would’ve been astonishing.
I bet we would have laughed and stumbled, and felt so small atop the highest point.
I bet we would have carved our initials into a dry tree in a conspicuous spot, like all sickeningly in love couples do.
I bet we would have chuckled at the irony because we are not in love; nay, we are mere lovers.
Had we been in love…

I loved the secrecy, but the cat’s out of the bag now.
At least our bodies aren’t in body bags.
Though I wish mine was sometimes.
If I can’t have you, it feels like I can’t have a life.
Not a life worth living, anyway.
I’ll always behave in reprehensible ways, and it will not be tolerated by anyone, except maybe by you.
But now I bet I’ll never fucking know.

I had only been seeing you for a short while, but baby the chemistry between us was enough to burn the whole earth up in flames and thick black smoke.
I hope you never think poorly of me; I know one day, we will soon again meet.
I hope the spark still yields from the flint that is your fingertip on my skin.
I hope your eyes won’t reveal a shell of a human dead inside.
I hope you’re willing to forgive me and know that I was willing to run away with you and start over.
But everyone knows, two addicts can only keep each other sick.
Such a sad Romeo and Juliet story, but the ending sounds enticing if eternity with you is the prize to be won.

I hope you respect me and respect my honesty, despite the overwhelming nature of the gorily detailed divulgence.
I hope your father forgets me, and never finds out I am what I am. I hope he still thinks highly of me.
I have so much fucking pride.
I wish I could oust my demons and live purely.
I wish I could figure this out with you, but I know I’ve made a bed of nails and you’re just one of the weakest ones that will crumble under my weight.

I bet you’re not even hurting.
I bet you’re not obsessing.
I bet you’re not getting clean.
I bet you’re not even missing my energy.
I bet you’re satiated, no longer hungry for my essence.
I bet you’re satisfied with the reverie that it must seem our misadventures were.
I bet you’re still alight with beauty under this sunny sky.
I bet you’re still pondering your own thoughts, none of them involving me.
I want not to consider you anymore.

I want you to be another one of my past endeavors, which all amassed to sheer nothingness.
You meant the world, for all of three days.
Today, as yesterday, as tomorrow, as forever, you will be weighing heavily on my fragile mind.
You understood me, you caressed me, and you pulled words I’d typically choke on from my lips so easily, like sand that flows effortlessly through an hourglass.
And I melted in front of you.
My legs quaked like a leaf in a thunderstorm at the sensation of your slightest sweetest touch.
My insane mind led me to the darkest recesses, and embarrassingly, I dissolved into tears at the peak.
I’m usually tough as Teflon, but this life has taken a red-hot iron rod and branded me as a misfit.
This life like waves over sand, has washed over me repeatedly and beaten me down into a perfect shiny shell, hollow and empty inside, no ocean rushing within, no creature calling me home.

I bet you’re angry I blew our cover.
I bet you’re irritated I left unexpectedly.
I bet you think we’ll never again speak.
I bet you think I humiliated you.
I bet you think I’m the scum of the earth.
You wouldn’t be wrong to assume such.

I bet you want to crush my skull,
or inject me with a lethal dose of poison and
hold my body as my lips turn purple,
my limbs go limp,
and my eyes roll back,
lifeless.

I bet you’ll laugh then.
I bet you’ll carry my body to your car and
dump it in the woods.
I bet you’ll go home and
shoot a lethal speedball yourself.

I bet you’ll survive.
And I bet you’ll drive
back for more, more poisonous heaven.

And I bet you’ll think that our time spent was
all a sweet reverie and that
life can continue now as it always has.
The world will keep spinning for you, and
business will continue as usual for you, but never again,
for me.
I will burnburnburn.

Finally reworked this piece from Lord knows how long ago.

Tears stream down like fish swim downstream.
Someone once said, “don’t kill yourself, kill your life.”
And it made me ponder how to staunch my flowing blood.

Drowning in a pool of prismatic pigmentation.
Seeking gold on an abandoned beach in December.
Sweating and seething, but paralyzed by the pain.
Mirages and masquerades dance before my eyes.

Dreams so far from reality make awakening a lesson in misery.
How am I to jump ship after I captained it so bravely?
I am simply a coward cursing the sky, the sea, the stars, the sun.

Finding joy in so little; finding it so difficult to lift myself out of bed and into the world.
Limbs like lead, a body fighting a determined mind.
But when did determination not translate to action?

Lustrous lives play out on social networks, as my lazy lifestyle pulls me into the mud.
Could I be somebody? Somebody I respect and love?
Could I smile and not be feigning happiness?
I’m a quarter of a century old and I’ve nothing to show for it but the scars on my frail figure.

I could make a swift departure.
I could search the land beneath for diamonds.
I could find my purpose and passion.
But I think for now I’m just possessed.

And I think for now, I am stuck in a burning building.
I am too afraid, like a mouse hiding from a ravenous cat.
I worry, whisper, and whimper. But I fail to work, walk, and wish.
I guess for now, I’m a silly fish swimming upstream against the current.
I’ll never reach the delta of the river any time soon.

Maybe I’ll grow up, maybe I’ll grow hardened.
Maybe one day I’ll glorify my surroundings in grateful fashion.
But for now, for unseen forever, I’ll just do as a swan: Graceful on the surface, but a nervous wreck below, treading water to stay afloat.
To stay

Alive.

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I’m a fairy who sees an ogre in the mirror.
I’m a sailboat that floats like a cargo ship.
I’m an angel whose halo burned too brightly, it set fire to my face.
Now I observe the devil in my eyes, my skin, veins, tongue.

The winter evaded my desire for icy conditions outside,
yet a mere toothpick could shatter my frozen heart trapped inside my brittle rib cage.
Baby, won’t you admit it? That I’m a deviant worthy of an untimely death?

I push and shove, yet the weight won’t budge.
Withering in reality, but in my mind’s eye,
I’m corpulent as they come.

I copulate with the serpents, incurring venomous intent.
All these rattle snakes warn me, yet still, I solicit the darkness.
My love for life is inferior to my lust for passion.
Poltergeists and ghosts infest my home.
My temple is crumbling like an ancient work of art.

I held your comatose hand in the hospital hoping for a sign of cognizance to flash across your face, but only my tears seared your flesh, and only my mother kept me from staying with you.
It happened so suddenly.

We had just seen each other on my parents’ front porch.
I was angry and I stormed off without a farewell, not knowing I’d never get to hear your voice again.
I’m so apologetic. I wish I was normal, if only for your sake.
Maybe I could have saved you, been the daughter you always wanted.

Now with every birthday comes a funeral,
And every deserving being who has passed on deserves a proper sendoff.
You were deprived of such, or maybe my selfish mind has convinced me that funerals and caskets aren’t simply to honor the dead.

Your name brings water to my eyes, memories of you cause me to erupt in misery, but that’s nothing new. You’re the only one
I lose my breath and the pent-up emotions shake me like an earthquake.
How could you leave us so soon?
I never got to make you proud, I’ll never get to now.
I’m a monster in sheep’s clothing, and I’m failing you miserably.

One day, I’ll accept myself, and accept love into my existence.
Some day, I’ll be content, and some day, I’ll see you again.
And you’ll be smiling, swollen with pride.
You’re my angel now… I will honor your life one day and you’ll smile.
I’ll smile, one day.

Ebb & Flow; Rise & Fall

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Wavelengths and frequencies waver in a capricious cadence
The heart thrashes wildly against the rib cage’s stoic restraint
Ribbons of perspiration gush over milky, glowing white limbs
The iris takes a hard won vacation as the pupils become stricken with dilation
The tongue drowns in savage swells of conditioned salivation
Each hair stands on tip toe to salute your lack of discretion
What a ruse it was to think that you would never again use
The mind-dulling chemicals that tore apart your humanity
Stripped back the bolts connecting your brain to the sober reality
Of life marked by two levels of relative sanity
Volatility prompts epic calamity or gross generosity
Catapulted to a life way past any semblance of normalcy
Throwing away one’s dearest aspirations to mend someone else’s tragic life
The feels are too much and the cravings are boiling me into a rage
A scapegoat, twisted and motivated by demons may silence the nagging lambs;
The shee-ople who know nothing won’t align in chronological order;
They won’t assuage you of your terrors; They will ignore all of your bargains;
They will feast on your weakest bones. They will prey on your futuristic clones.
Guilted by Catholic knees that betray one’s very own mortality, humanity, egocentricity.
Grown to never hate, but rather to sympathize and empathize and minimize.
Actions fail to exemplify the simplicity of the saying.
Connecting the hammer to my cranium, cracking it clean like a coconut.
Blood gushes, but it turns me on. I swoon. I faint. I fall in love.
Dazzling explosions burst from inside eyelids. Pain feels. I feel. I live. I’m alive!
Manically laughing, attracting every curious gaze.
I take the blade and I slice with the precision and force of an accomplished wood whittler.
The pain is a waterfall. It cleanses and invigorates my gaunt skeleton.
Wanna die, darling? You love being alive, evidenced by your enamor with the rush.
You love the slices, the trickle of the clotting attempt. Not visible. Secret. Reasonable.
The blood deluge induced from the shock of the pain. Fuck me with a porcupine.
Please, just ruin me for good. From the rubble rises Protection.
From unwarranted self loathing and shameshameshame.
You’re worthless as a broken penny, another overpriced overrated whore.
But he almost had ya fooled.
Confidence dissolves again with the disparaging response
To your shameless flawless babbling about detailed jargon-laced factoid-laden tangents
Word vomit and honesty misconstrued as pomp and circumstance and pride
Highlighting our contrasts instead of our blended talents
Blowing down my brick facade with your forceful hurricane of indifference
I’m seething with emotions and reckoning with my failure
I have no knowledge or wisdom you see as compelling
Receptive as cement block walls; Snap my neck, baby, don’t be shy.
Crack all of my ribs. One by one, a xylophone of xanthic flesh-covered beautiful bones
You don’t want to be a success; Just wanna make a living in varied stages of undress
Spread them pins, girl, grab your chest. Seduce them with your promiscuity.
Let them bore into you, furthering your deterioration from the outside in.
You want to light me ablaze alive?
I’ll burn slowly, my eyes set on yours so that you can see my soul engulfed in blackness;
The glass panes of the windows are shattered now; shards sprinkled in ebony soot and ash
Your deranged expression and snickering sneering smacking lips
They’re bleeding, you’re so perplexed–who slaughtered whom tonight?
The extinction of the leader of sedition is reason for me to…Celebrate this sweet respite
With the intravenous shot of liquid heaven–-fly to Panama, it always sounded so lush.
Dive into the clouds and float just for a fraction of a moment. Sweetly
Suspended above the churning grave site that will welcome me with burgeoning waves
And Karma is the vengeance doled out by the Creator alone.
Free will is a hell of a drug, my love. Suck it up, buttercup.
You strived to be savage and succeeded in your sabotage.
Watch my love from above as he shoves himself inside of your walls
As I brace my heart for the hurt, it dawns–I no longer have sensation from emotion
I am a soul without a body–how I always craved to be in my earthly vessel
That body could not be loved in the flesh, the wounds were always too fresh
Please understand–it was all on me, so damned proud and way too honest
I rambled interminably when I was blatantly being ignored; I was such a bore
No longer assuming the role of the wretched weeds which only ever served
To put a chokehold around the necks of the budding begonias and petunias
Finally, I have quenched a quarter of a century suicide pact with myself
I love the smell of organ failure
The taste of my own incinerated lips on my flaming tongue
Chin high, spine poised, a faceless grin of stark white teeth against a blackened skull
Toss my tresses over my withered shoulders
Now I’m sauntering across the barrier between the realms
In nothing but my hollow bones as the phonograph eerily drones my own personal dirge
Both in life and death, I am a queen and you’re a peasant
But you rattled me with news of your sudden and steadfast dissent
Combat was always your sharpest skill. Conquered, but never vanquished.
Liberated at last, my agenda in death has but one singular task:
I will haunt you, like the poltergeist I can now officially say I am
I will drown you in a basin of my blood and make damn certain that
The last thing you will ever see is anything but crystal clear.
You will pine for me upon setting sight on the tantalizing colors
Comprising the prism of my reflection in the distorted daylight;
The damaging, searing ultraviolet rays in which you shall forever be left to bask.

(me, myself, & I–picture and poem/prose/piece)

xo bblv