Anaïs Nin, from the short story “Mathilde”, Delta of Venus (published posthumously in 1977)
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Anaïs Nin, from the short story “Mathilde”, Delta of Venus (published posthumously in 1977)

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those little fucking orange bottles
Reminder to self:
Making people feel understood does not come at the price of rehashing old wounds.
The price of being true to the advocate soul is always a double edged sword.
Most of us want to help each other
when we can barely help ourselves.
97% of us, to be exact.
And that's devastatingly beautiful,
if you ask me.
To be human is to be heartbroken
over
and
over.
Most days,
I am simply overwhelmed with being full of heart -
mostly broken -
and little desire to change it.

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When I was young my dad offhandedly told me he thought people treated fish with so much casual cruelty because fish can’t scream.
The words branded themselves across my soul.
As an adult I think he may have been joking. He payed no especial attention to any indignities fish suffered in our household but I could never forget. I saw fish in a different light after that.
Fish kept in tiny bowls, breathing their own poisons, dying by inches. Fish kept in cold tanks, casually disposed of. Fish touted as being short lived when they could outlive the better loved family dog if only they could breathe. Fish casually won and discarded in cheap plastic bags, thrown away a week later.
How they would scream, if they could.
Blend
"If I do not express myself, I will die"
Dramatic, drastic, and definite:
I have always tried to be a show stopper, I guess
But when it's 1 am and I am in the work parking lot,
Flirting with my life,
I wish I was dull
Normal, bland, painfully unremarkable
When I' ve clocked out and can't check into myself,
Despite the vacancy sign lit,
It's time to turn off the lights
And turn in the keys.
I hope the good ones are louder than the bad ones
Singular good ones
How do I convince you the love touched more than the pain?
Why did it have to take me so long to get over myself?
Why do I have to hurt you like this?
You gave me everything
Except and including myself
I'm sorry you didn't hear from me.
The lights went out and I lost my way
My lantern run empty
My path no longer illuminated
Left to wander until day break
The lights were out and I lost my way
Would you guys believe me if I told you I'll have a book published by the end of the year? 😇

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We're painting the roses red
Coloring porcelain crimson
Toiling and tumbling
Twisting my words
Gritting my teeth
Stifle the sounds of relapse
Silence the part of me that wants to resist
The further slip and bleeding tattooed wrists
We're painting the roses red
And I'm left wishing for innocent white daisies
A bowl of weed for dinner
And never a bowl of cereal for breakfast
We don't wake up before noon because
The early hours are full of sickness
My throat burns because I reach for menthols far too often
And always before food
Nicotine over nutrition
Since I learned the trade off at 15
Sun Killer
I find great safety in great kindness
A positively distorted view of the world
And humanity as a whole
Nearly three decades deep,
And I didn't think to learn to swim
My veil of safety has been lifted and disturbed in ways I couldn't imagine
Couldn't have prepared for and cannot prepare for,
As if the future of my life depends upon it:
I have stayed away from just as many evils
As I have entertained
My positively distorted view of the world may very well put me in harms way
And gives me just as much hope as it does fear
Kindness is a virtue and a lesson in safety
Practiced and implemented before a threat can pose,
Because who would want to put out the sun?
“I lost myself trying to please everyone else. Now I’m losing everyone while I’m finding myself.”
— Unknown
Landslide
Slipping
Slipping back into old habits
Old patterns
Old routines
Deadly rituals for the sake of taking up less space
My body begging
Pleading
Asking to form an alliance with one another
Rather than continue fighting a deadly fight
All I did was silence that voice
And make it smaller
Until small was all that felt familiar

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Crystal Clear
I see right through myself
If eyes are the windows to the soul,
Mine are made of glass
Just another duplicate of all the others, searching for sanctuary among the misfits
Glass windows and glass houses forged from broken homes
A ghost in my shell,
Hollow and horrified
At my own human will
I see it all
And through it all
Facades and masks smudged internationally
Smeared throughout humanity
Dressed up in lies
Dolled up with insincerity
Enchanted by the veil
Why do we all hide?
Why do we rotate trends as we do?
Decorate ourselves with shiny little things
Purchased with shiny little coins and crumpled green
Changing appearances and diets to accommodate what "looks good" to the world
Rather than what is good for you
Consume, consume, consume
Media, news, and food
Politics, neighborhood drama, news outlets, blogs and vlogs
Sugar, sex, and secrets
Consume until we've lost every semblance of ourselves,
Then we trudge back in line
Back to the hamster wheel
Back to expectations
Back to everything that screams,
And nothing that sings
Homebound
This body doesn't feel like home
Too broken, too painful, too unsafe
It doesn't comfort like the first warm meal of the day
or my favorite silken blanket colored violet
It doesn't soothe like lavender tea
steeped in the clay teapot from my dad's lover
It doesn't protect like my green thrift store trench coat
enclosing me in stylish warmth and self-expression
It doesn't calm like the steady heartbeat of my mutually smitten fiancé
or the soft lull of their voice in the late hours of the night
A stranger in my own house;
I seem to have misplaced the keys
to the doors of my own temple