rat baby

Tears well up from the mountain in my mind it is springtime in my temple hang banners of bright green and deep blue and let the laundry dry in fragrant air with the memory of winter it is springtime in my sad story springtime in my grief with the cold mornings and fresh fruit swelling with captured light

Inside of me there is a statue that cries a steady stream of tears near the top of a small mountain rocks and brambles cluster all around a creek formed from those tears that pour steadily downstream as the river swells as the ground levels out as the sun sets over a glittering ocean

my whole body aches with sadness. Tears come easily, and appear before i realize. I feel so hollow. I am sick with grief. It is difficult to breathe deeply. I have run out of solutions. all I have are a mountain of problems. I am too weak to carry this load. I fear it is too late for this life. I fear it is too late for this world. how I would curl up in a golden ball and let night cover me. I can not take all of this pain. Spring is here.

people attack us in ways that mirror their deepest vulnerabilities. they trade authenticity for security. we hold our truth in the light and create something beautiful of the self. to know the self is to know joy & pain. we hurt so much and become targets to hurt. but how I danced that night. our joy is unparalleled. our joy is unparalleled.

It is so so strange to look at groups of cisgender people and think wow I really do not belong in these spaces but I once did and the reason why - what changed - is that I became more honest about myself and that is what’s so fundamentally not understood by these people so incomprehensible as to be uncomfortable and difficult and better left unsaid all because I wanted to be known and by removing layers of half truths and plain lies and once those were gone nobody knew what to think of me

Take care of yourself - be more honest with ppl. Break commitments. Disengage more. Let’s find a healthy place to be in this life and this body.

I need you to understand beneath my flesh there is a lie the devil God himself planted uncaring for agony is never so pure than when met in the mirror with a sickening crack of the bones something is broken and an old deep fear rises again to subsume my skin creeping pinpricks of am I some kind of twisted? how could I forget a pain without sensation? how is it all familiar and alien at once? were these not my bones a moment ago? now my marrow screams to be let out and for a simple dream to be real instead of this lie

Not saying we should, just If you were wondering and if I was wondering one moment and we wouldn't have to wonder any more

how are you satisfied with the scraps? how can you stand to see others treated like dogs? aren't you tired of the misery? are you still watching?

I remember the great comfort of sprawling dunes moonrise over a late night when the world was at peace and we held each other with open hands not knowing anything but that you knew nothing too so the salty air and the golden sun and our serenade to the treetops was the adventure of a teenage lifetime

coiled inside a tiny seed lays a blueprint for a bloom wrought from dirt, light, and long gestation may their beauty remind you of your own

I'm frustrated with feeling frustrated, lesser as if some weight came down and decided to squeeze my brain today charming floating in the uncertainty of self day to day I feel like a different person day to day I feel invincible or nothing helps at all consistentcy is not my forté for as much as it hurts me it simply is

And everything would rise anew

I am so overwhelmed by consciousness. It is so loud and bright. stimuli battering at my fragile sense of self. in the morning I look at a list and know that today is not the day to approach it. I feel sick as I microwave a burrito. I need to lay down & weep.

& again.