I Speak With The Moon, Most Nights.

Untitled

I don't want to die today.

I'm usually contemplating my life, or lack of, through these hours.

Living is difficult most days.

Then you happened along, and reminded me there are still things to live for.

Your positivity is contagious.

I have a new disorder within me now, that illuminates the darkest parts of my mind.

The sunrise is beautiful again every morning.

Uneasiness that sends moths down my throat, have turned to butterflies.

I adore you.

I need to see the universe through your eyes, just once.

So I will have something to hold onto when the moon is high at night, and the darkness attempts to seduce me.

Societal Norm

I've spent most of my life trying to fit into the 'societal norm'. Gods is it awful. Say this, do this, dress to impress..

Don't curse, please watch what you eat, black is the devil's color..

Get down on your knees and pray to Jesus when all is going wrong, you need to find a man to marry before you spread your legs, sundresses and bright colors..

I'll get down on my knees to pleasure who I wish, it will be sinful. I sleep with who I wish and it will not only be men. If my graphic black shirts offend, well good for me.

I do not believe in your 'God'. I am one of those gays you despise.

Guess what??

I do not exist to please anyone but myself.

I'm doing a damn good job of it too.

Kindly avert your attention elsewhere, while I do whatever I want.

I rightly don't give a single fuck about your comfort.

I believe in magic.

Not like the magic in fairytales, full of dragons and spells.

I believe in the magic of those small moments.

I believe in the magic of a dandelion growing in the crack of asphalt.

The moment between your inhale and my exhale.

Finding a constellation in the sea of millions of stars.

The way your eyes light up like a stormy sky.

The dew on the early morning grass.

Magic is what makes this world go ‘round.

I’m so thankful to be a part of these small magical moments.

What are you most afraid of?

There’s always those phobias of snakes, spiders and bodies of water . Those are pretty rational. I know way too many people that are scared of those. Spiders are creepy with all their legs. Snakes are venomous. People drown everyday in lakes and oceans.

My fears are the feelings. Being helpless. Not being able to express my emotions the right way, or worse, expressing them and not having someone feel the same way. The fear of being lonely for the rest of my life.

I am helpless in a lot of ways. I make myself small in my own life and don’t express the emotions I need to, every day. I am alone and very lonely.

I’m afraid that I will live my entire life, not being true to myself. Having to live and not be who I really am. I’ve been doing it for almost thirty one years now. As a child, I lived to please my parents. As a young adult, I lived to please my friends. Now, an actual adult, I live to please my husband.

I am afraid that if I truly show everyone who I am, they will run away. Or, maybe I am the one who needs to run away. But the fear of leaving is too powerful.

Everyone has fears, that’s just human nature. Maybe what I am afraid of is just being human.

I am afraid of myself.

I whisper my secrets out into the universe.

The stars twinkle with laughter.

They share my joy and watch while this new adventure begins.

His eyes,

Blue as the sky on a stormy day.

Her eyes,

Hazel like the sodden ground beneath.

He is beautiful, in all the strange ways.

She is pure chaos, all sharp teeth.

They will never belong together.

Not in this lifetime.

Two almost lovers bound to roam forever.

So they dream of sometime…

I was not looking for love when you came along. I learned to live with mediocrity. I knew how my life would turn out. I had made peace with this. Everything was not quite how I had imagined, but it was good. Not great; who gets greatness these hard days anyway? You came along and reminded me of the great in this world. You made me want to live again. We found something between us that we didn’t know we needed.

Starved for affection

‘There are thousands of children starving in Africa’. I was told this throughout my childhood, when I refused to eat dinner. How does my eating help those in need across the Atlantic? It doesn’t, it never did.

How about what I was starved for? It wasn’t food or love. I was told ‘I love you’ by my family every day. Affection, physically, that is a whole other story. My father worked all day weekdays and we rarely saw him. Even on weekends, he had other hobbies. I was raised in church, that god awful place, so we got to see him on Sundays. But he was an outdoorsy person and I hated the outdoors. My mother, on the other hand, well she was a deeply unhappy person. Struggled with depression and so gracefully handed it down to her daughters. We rarely saw her either, she slept her days away. Physical touch, that was rare. I grew up in a ‘loving home’, but the love wasn’t shown, only spoken.

So, i learned that physical touch was an option, not needed. Rarely wanted. It has really fucked up my adult life. Any relationship I’ve ever been in hasn’t been romantic in the slightest. Sex, well that’s what a man needs. It’s not affectionate, never will be. It is something to pacify those urges so they don’t look elsewhere. Me, a deeply sexual person now. It’s awful. It just feels wrong when I have urges for well, anything. I loathe being touched in any way, yet I crave it. I guess I feel the need to be touched. I just don’t trust anyone to touch me the right way.

If affection has never been shown to you, you learn to live without it.

I am a lament, the trees whisper into the breeze on a windy day. Full of sorrow and grief over my useless existence.

When I die,

Bury me in the forest.

There will be no need for visiting me.

I have found home with the foliage.

The shame of living will disappear as my body becomes the earth.