I don't do pictures that would put a face to my words, but I thought I'd share old poetry. Two old poems. The more recent one is at least four years old because I'm 38 now. The older one was while I was still breastfeeding, so at least 8 years ago. My Release
Stress came in waves Like sheets of plastic suffocating Like flames of sickness licking my flesh from the insides Like sex without love messy fluids and sweat and no real pleasure or release pain in waves, waiting for joy which never comes Like reek of sweat sickly musk masked by refuse of small comforts Comfort sought after in foods chocolate and icecream, rice pudding and doughnuts chips and dip or salsa iced tea and soda and sugar and waste Eating beyond sustenance, and into blankets of numbness Comfort in the nothing the nothing of sleep the nothing of television Hiding from the bright spring air and in the dark dampness of the hollow of my blankets windows shut and unforgiving musky in my stench of unbathed loathing damp in the overflow of morning feedings Awake and wired late at night while twitching in unforgiving darkness, while the angels of my flesh and desire slumber next to me snoring in sweet nothingness while early morning taunts me And in the dire bleakness of my power outtage, wishing for momentary release in window surfing or a mind to reach out to A moment of vulnerability and my stress is relieved.
And again, I want to go outside. Again, there is a garden to sow Again, there is much to be done, and at last, I'm ready to do it.
Poem for my 34th Birthday
Can I still remember my last name?
The girl that I once was
I know her now
Though she barely knew herself
I think of her and wonder
How did she survive the life
She forced us to live
Then I remember she didn’t
I’m here and she’s a memory
A fond one that has evolved from
The woman in her wake loves attention as much as she did
But will live without it.
She craves solitude and hardly gets it
But complaining is for the girl that died away