Want a peek? Apparently, this time of year has always been hard for me.
Cross'd
It's that dream again
Caught by the mad happiness of flight
Shortly before my teeth and
eyes have gone missing
She's watching
Streaks of red
hair. blood. heart. memories.
Her geese are leaving
She is leaving
Broken promises remembered
Forgiveness rendered maudlin
Too much
Always too much
Until I am hiding under my bed
Trying not to breathe
Blending into bras, socks, dustbunnyscapes
Forget.
Poisoned
i am
uselessly naked
bruised thighs
cankersore'd lips
cinnamon rolled belly
snotted in hair
my pussy slick
with poison
My bed
a misama
tidal waves of blankets
tissues and books
float gently unconcerned
by their decay
i am balled up
an ugly seirene
bastard child
i never learned to sing
good enough to drag him
down with me
My sisters would have
drowned you
for your mewling chorus of
it's not you it's me
i never learned to sing
good enough to drag him
down with me
They have disowned me
i am too stupid with love
forgetting i am poisoned
and then crying about it later
i never learned to sing
good enough to drag him
down with me
i couldn't be
terribly shining
i couldn't remember
that you are plankton
i couldn't be
confident in my kill
i never learned to sing
good enough to drag him
down with me
i always wanted to
[love you]
i always wanted to
keep you safe from/with me
i never learned to sing
good enough to drag you
down with me
God! Who would guess that my first marriage wouldn't work out, am I right? 23 was brutal, yo. Brutal and beautiful. In some ways it was easier. I had a bravado about me and I believed I could kick down any door I needed. Now at 34 with a few lines on my face, I'm a little older, a little more tired, a little more afraid. I miss the wrecklessness sometimes. Eat, Drink, Be Merry for Tomorrow We Die.
Except tomorrow keeps coming if you're lucky and you need to be able to pay for yesterday tomorrow which is now today.
I'm faltering is what I'm trying to say, the long way around. I'm faltering right now because it's the most depressing time of year and everyone around me is feeling it and I'm feeling it. It's hard to do magic when you're depressed. It's hard to do anything when you're depressed. But I'm trying. I'm pushing. I'm paying my bills, going to work, finishing my book and getting ready to send it to press. The cats are at war again, shitting and pissing everywhere. It's supposed to snow for my birthday party. Jow and I work almost opposite hours. It's hard not to get dragged under right now.
But I need to keep paddling, even if I'm swallowing salt water. I'm pretty sure the Mormon Mommy Bloggers are as well adjusted as they are because they are creating their own reality where they have a decent amount of control over how they're perceived. It can be that way for all of us, the internet is your own personal PR machine. I'm not happy right now. I'm desperately trying to be. But I'm not. It will pass, just like it always does. But please forgive me if I borrow a little Mormon Mommy Blog magical prowess and work to craft my (daily) reality into what I want it to be using this blog. Forgive me if it's a little Pinterest board heavy/daily life picture heavy. I need to improve my outlook and if I can bend my reality into what I want it to be using the intertubes, that's a bit of magic in and of itself, n'est-ce pas?
Magical practice theory will resume more heavily once the book is published.