#tumblingwords

Sitting in the dark because it brings far more comfort than the light.

There is nothing here for all my doubts and fears, and at the bottom, the well of all my tears.

There, a child is crying, a teenager is screaming, and a young woman is trying desperately to find meaning.

I look to them with pity; their emotions are plenty, overwhelm wrapping me like vines, the thorns of each new and old emotion digging in.

My blood, sweat, and tears— yet life never feels like a win. How long must I carry the weight I thought I had dropped?

When will I heal enough to live and not exist, to thrive and not survive, to find joy in everyday life?

To find solace in those that love me, to find beauty in those that accept me, to stand in awe of my reflection, to see the me those loving eyes mirror back.

To find comfort in the words that soothe the crying child, to calm the screaming teenager, to guide the young woman, explaining that life is an adventure that doesn’t need a plan.

To help the survivor understand that in order to thrive, she must let go of control, to let be, to not look back— the future is waiting, and the present is calling.

Healing may not be linear, but it’s a checkpoint— so even if we have to go back, we can always move forward.

And one day, we will stand firm in ourselves; we will whisper, I love you.

still beating heart

swallowed up in brewed cooked up storms creating the mist of wondrous tales

filled with mystery, despair and tragedy

when eyelids close stormclouds grazing the sea weathered cliffs fog taking breaths swallowing souls silently bound forever

everlasting devotion and longing love

I swear, my still beating heart to eternally be in your shores at the will of the tides determined by the wind worn by the seasons

my body is aching. my joints hurting my bones cracking my muscles disappearing my mind is spinning

can‘t stop this carousel gagging to vomit clear it all out release the pressure a nagging voice laced with menace

whisper seductively to follow my father’s frame drown in the whispering pulls of disturbia live in your own dystopia

maybe the aching comes first the desperate avoiding all the escaping  is only prolonging the fight against an undeniable predisposition the first step and the wrong direction

is my body forseeing my mind’s disease slowing down in order to cope with the tension

I hate these clinging clingy thoughts

nothing else matters just the neuroses circling

The air is burning

the whole city is on fire every grasp for oxygen feels like sand scraping in your lungs oh Imogen

leaving your mouth desperate for water dispositions heating up heißlaufende Gemüter piling up, pent up emotions looking for a way out

just like any fluid evaporated with same intensity tempers are about to flare up, be consumated like a bonfire - crackling first, slowly speeding up process built up heat - consuming the air, streets, buildings, people

a new sub-hell has descended on us oh sweet hellish paradise draining, leaving behind a hot mess of insaneness dry flesh, bones, gooey-smelly-damp-drying remains

ready to jump bones mass orgy city style - no inhibitions nothing left to lose ooze - reek of sweaty desire eating you alive drown in me, let yourself get lost in my steps, get caught until you want to escape and only then will I push you further into oblivion

That tale of love’s death and peril in Hades' realms you soon forgot

like your desire for my soul or was it my body? drowned in one of the dark land’s rivers

the four of them were struck with grief - halted in their ever so continuous flow- as Eurydice’s overshadowed figure turned                                                              into fog over their waters

All the Orpheus in me was left to do add water to the depths of Charon’s playground on cue

He carried away the corpse that once supposedly was our love

kind enough to spare us the fare for even he used to separating lovers felt sympathy.