Why Don’t You…

Pimp your blog. Add some bling. Make it shine, stand out, shout, attract, organize everything so it’s more appealing to the reader? Lm is biting her lip again. Truth is Naked. Truth isn’t fluffy and for a good time. It’s simple. Truth should not be camaflouged with frivolities. Lm has locked herself in a small closet where she has hidden the memories of one person who she won’t forgive. Ever. Wait, she has someone new! This is not news to ROCK who knows her best. Lm is never forgiving herself for letting people who loved her do mean things and get away with it. Her hair is falling out now and she holds onto a picture of herself at fourteen. What the hell is wrong with me? She kicks the door and is like a feral street dog in Thailand. Roaming, pleading, desperate to find a kind soul. She can’t be touched but is needy. She waits for the moon to rise and then she will sneak out and climb high into the tallest tree and fall to the ground and die. No. That’s not good enough. If she lives with more pain then she has lost again. Her suicidal ideation is a huge issue. She never wanted to die but now if things don’t turn around she would be okay with it. That last breathe and that white light with angels lifting her soul peacefully, leaving her cage, the one that hurt all the time could go to the damn compost. Maybe. Another day. ROCK wishes he had the ability to smoke so he could have something to quell his anxieties. He stands firm. There is nothing that she can do to herself when he is near. Baby birds fall from trees all the time and live. Lm is NOT like a little robin who knows nothing about what’s out in this cold,cold world. She is mumbling. She is circling around and yelling at her own inner child. He wants to intervene but he knows she must do the work. One day, ROCK believes he will transform as well and Lm can join him as one. When this day comes they will be free and walk away, with arms, a cigarette in hand and blow smoke rings into the sunset.

Ghosts of You

Stalking my dreams, again I find you there, my fighting to wake and escape from unwanted memories. Why don’t you grieve, hurt or suffer? Why must I lug your trunk of tricks and misery everywhere I go? I feel sick when I come across your photograph smiling and surrounded by good people who don’t know your dirty and deeper secrets. I wonder if you know your own plays, remember the truth of who you are. No one is guaranteed a good life and that alone makes me doubt often any holiness, or sacred recipes exist for us plain ole daily folk. We get sick, die too young or are burdened with poverty, mental illnesses and responsibilities. We don’t run. Step by step we inch toward death with unfulfilled wishes that seem frivolous and only for the one’s that break the rules, sprint from their trunk overflowing with the messes they create, leaving behind their trash for the good doer’s to deal with. In my dream I beg to anyone, an entity of love and life to bar you from my sleep. I know that your dreams are not full of the pain you left others with. You dream of walks along the water, delicious cuisine, fancy clothes and being adored. You do not dream of the children you abandoned or your family that is simple and have stopped wanting more. I will never be “paid back”, you will get the golden egg and my heart will still stray sometimes to unwanted thoughts of you. Tiny bits of pain slip into my illusions, completely disagreeing with my longing for peace each night. Dear Holier, hopefully stronger Spirits fill my night with those who love me and lock the trunk so not even a thief’s expertise can reveal more tonight. Dreams please be kind.

Side Steps

Each step, as far down as I can see has little doors; some to the left and some to the right. Some of these doors have been opened by some one else and they left a note for me to read. The notes were about BaD DaD. Some doors are barred with iron bolts and I can not enter or hear anything. These doors are not to protect me but to protect BaD DaD. They carry his past and present and things that others put in a red box marked, “Case Closed”. These are the enablers. I will call them “Hiders”. They do not want to know him; they choose to see only the things that make them happy or less guilty. The Hiders of “Him”, the one who broke into me, who tried to disable me with deceit and callousness, these hiders were part of my family. Be sure now. NOW. Do you want to go and read the notes with me? Will you hold my hand or turn me loose because it is too heavy? I can not stay on the top step forever. I am preparing to open the door to the light where real Love exists. I will shut the door and never go back, but first I must uncover, share and stomach the worst version of “Him”; the saddest version of “little me”. I want you to stay. I won’t lie; I am afraid.

Before Me

The boy’s parents divorced and his mother struggled to keep her job and her two children fed. She wasn’t neglectful but unable to afford what many other families had. She had come from poverty herself and had been raised on a farm in rural Georgia.

The beautiful girl also came from a different sort of poverty, despite her father owning boarding houses and a local market she lacked the type of love that a family generally is thought to generate. Her father was a troubled man and her mother worked in the store serving customers. The girl shared a room with 5 siblings in the back of the store and felt ashamed. Yet, she took on more work in other stores, even in a doll hospital. She enjoyed making her world more pleasant. Often she brought the boyfriend who was often hungry back to the store and made him grilled cheese sandwiches.

The boy told lots of big stories to his friends at school, and those stories grew bigger than life and the lovely, honest and hardworking girl broke up with him.

She had been warned that she would lose her position as a cashier at her job she went to after school and on weekends. Why? Because the boy stood watch over her, hung around the store and it made her and her boss uncomfortable. Despite moving forward after breaking up with the boy, he refused to leave her alone.