The Daft, Demented, and Delirious

To make love against the thorns of the rose bush; Sharp thorns threaten to pierce delicate skin; same as love threatens to pierce the most delicate of souls. Love is both pleasure and pain. Love is bleeding.

Goodnight Mister Moon. Please let the darkness come tonight. We need rest Mister Moon. Our heart's will dance forever. Please let our minds run wild and free. Love and be loved Mister Moon. My soul and yours too. Goodnight Mister Moon.

And she clung to her vintage jar of sugar crystals; as she stood on the porch to watch the thunderstorm. There's pleasure in the grayness of heavy rain clouds.

I'm on the cusp of 36. Born a cusp:  Libra nearly Scorpio. Born late nearly late for everything; deadlines, work, appointments. Forever on the cusp of something or another. Born chasing my tail. Runner of circles, wizard of procrastination. Typical Libra tipping the scales back and forth, back and forth until I'm crazy, sick or both. I'm not where or whom I thought I'd be. I'm not truly sure I ever knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I'm still growing up. 36 yet juvenile in many ways, childlike in other aspects, with a good portion of old woman knit into one big, colorful, afghan. Stubborn. Accepting. Smart. Stupid. Happy. Sad. Proud. Ashamed. Humanitarian. Hate-atarian. Well rounded like a spinning top. Just like we have no idea we are being born I too live life with no real idea of what's going on. A mental drifter, a flighty piece of fabric who rides the ever-changing breeze, though other times a heavy bolder not easily moved. I hate ch...

When you want to go home but you don't know where that is. You haven't been there in far too long. Homeless soul. Your mind is wildfire, lighting up the night, burning too hot to ever let you rest. Tired heart. Everything inside you aches, bone deep. Tossing and turning inside and out. Restless vessel.

Fried egg sandwiches with cheese and brown mustard. Squash blossoms in summer. The smell of candles freshly blown out. Hand picked lilacs, black eyed Susans, and wild daisies. Sandy toes, salty air, a swim in the ocean, the smell after the rain. Green olives, hot peppers, pickles, and green eyes. Old books, libraries, vintage, and vinyl. A little bit dark and stormy spiked with a smile. She is.

What's on my mind? Am I okay? "Everything!" Is all I can say. My thoughts are a flood that never stop, Seeds of doubt planted, yeild a rotten,  fruitless crop. The mistakes, the loss, the life I've lived. I'm so deeply sorry but it's myself I can't forgive. I think and wonder sadly if you miss me too? Was I ever worth it? All the pain I put you through...... What punishment is fitting? What sentence shall I face? Fifty to life in a solitary space..... In the corner of a dark room, head to my knees, In an empty, haunted, house I burn until I freeze.

Is karma real? If so what have I done? What have I put out into the universe? I question and question myself. I question everything. My head spins with anxiety. They say love with the right person is easy. Love for me has never been easy, leading me to believe I'm difficult. I'm broken. I'm inept. Unlovable. Funny and friendly to complete strangers companion and important to none. Intolerable. Fake. Fraudulent. Too difficult for love. I have mastered the art of silent weeping. My eyes just leak for hours and I can't stop it. I ugly, messy cry sometimes but it just takes too much out of me so I just don't. I just shut down. I hate how I must appear. Weak. Sad. Lonely. Unhappy.  Fucked up. I am and I know it. I blame other's I blame life. I blame situations and bad luck but it always starts and ends with me. I'm stuck in a negative thought process. I bubble and ooze negativety I breed it like bacteria. I breath blackness into the atmosphere aro...

Close your mouth girl, Nothing it has to say is going to make it better. Close your heart girl, nothing you feel is going to make it feel better. Stand there looking so strong girl though you're unraveling inside. Sober never felt so wrong girl it hurts when your dry. Cried out, messed up, "girl".....karma eats you raw from the inside out, Time to close up shop girl,  time to close there is no doubt.

Bless me father for I have sinned. My actions one could not comprehend. My ways I keep trying to amend, but I just seem to fail again. I fail I fall I sin I sink My heart is heavy my faith on the brink, My mind it races, I sleep not a wink. The use and abuse and judgmental faces, Taking me back to all these ungodly places.

The venom flows; too easily you bite. I bite back. Quick little serpents we are. Rattling and posturing, standing our ground. Each one of us too proud to back down. Hisses are all that's heard, no friendly words. After all angry, scared, reptiles don't speak they strike: Hard and fast, leaving behind poison, infection, and soon death will set in. There is no antidote. Dying is the easy part. The hissing has stopped. The warning rattles have ceased. The stinging is gone from the wounds. The poison stills the breath, then the heart. Relief. Peace. The mind is at last quiet.

Life rhythm: I ebb , I flow Windows are closed and I can't find the door. Bouncing like a dropped rubber ball ricocheting against every wall. Over and over I come and I go Never finding that place to call home. It burns and I harden like lava to rock Ticking and chiming I run like a clock. Running and running but staying in place Holding back my words trying to save face. Tears replace anger and make it all worse I don't cry because I'm weak I cry because it hurts.