Mostly I feel that I deserve to feel hurt. So I push to put myself in pain. Because I deserve it.
I dance on your body like I dance on the cliff edge. Tempting my better nature to jump. But there is no feeling in the end. Just bags of broken bones sewn together with aged skin. I keep dancing on your body like I dance on the cliff edge. Only this time, we dance the salsa. Your pelvis up against mine as your index finger follows my spine and warps my back and my better judgement. I want to bite you. I want to climb inside you I want to feel you so much. I feel the ocean rise inside me again. I dance a little faster on the cliff edge now, your pelvis is pulverizing my marrow to powder. You hammer and hammer and the powder keeps forming. Slowly I dance with the dust, as the rest of me comes into the air. I dance with the dust on the cliff edge. I’d jump if it wasn’t so easy.
I can’t sleep again. And faces dream me back to memories of you Why does it never feel like its over Why cant you end and I begin again I feel like i’m constantly reaching and grabbing for any sentiments of sense that i’ve left behind
But i’m lost
I still feel like i’m losing myself again I’m haunted By the ghosts of our memories left wandering around Im frantic and shaken
Im trying. Trying to hard to pretend like i’m fine. But i’m not. And i’m hurting. I’m hurt again by myself by my lax behaviour by my overwhelming ability to put myself second second second-
Im open and explosive and creative and emotional and communicative and needy and independent and brutal and feirce and feeble and capable and desperate and frantic and foolishly feeling everything I wanted to again with you.
So be calm. And be soothing. And be there and be resolute and be kind and communicative and courageous and capable of calling out if you need me because beleive me I need you to.
I need you to mostly understand. To understand the cracks and react to the fractures appearing and revealing themselves to you. To respond, to be open outspoken and broken in your owns ways to me too. So I can be here and be clear in my knowing that our love is growing and your not turning and running and shunning the cunning ways i’ve revealed myself to you.
But I cant second guess and decompresss each statement you state for our relationships sake I need you to just put it plain to me. Plain as the planes can be.
I wont sleep out of fear. Because I cannot be here. I cannot be there. Where I was, i’m too scared for the loss, of myself. Who I gave
Who now turns in her grave
Who is gone.
TAKE IT ALL OFF
Take it all off.
Strip the very bones of me.
Take flesh and skin and meat and heart
I can’t take any more of this.
Take it all off.
Peel the very parts of me.
Take bites and chunks of hair and throw them apart for all to see.
Take it all off. Bare the very soul of me Take Blood and trust and life and love Take it all Take what you want from me.
Take it all off. Take whatever the fuck you want from me my bodies yours you made that clear and you’ll rip apart the whole of me.
Take it all off. Take all this shit that I don’t need my skin my hair my teeth my nose my tits whatever you want to see.
Take it all off. But my mind is mine for me to keep my brain my thoughts my spirit my own thats mine to keep not for you to see.
Take it all off
And just watch how much that I can be
The Might The Power The Heart The Soul Is Mine For Me Always To Keep.
A WOMAN IS NOT A LION TAMER
A Woman is not a Lion tamer.
Not there to build your cage. To sling you scraps and rub your back Until you reach old age. A Woman is not a lion tamer. Watching you all day, She's on her own. Revelling alone
Perhaps it stays that way. A Woman Is not A Lion tamer.
There only to keep you calm She's burning bright and up all night Dancing arm in arm. A Woman is not A lion tamer
Built to keep you down She's heading up and bound for luck, See her ankles from the clouds.
A Lion tamer
There To suffer in your anger
Youve lost control, then you're on your own
She won't be with you any longer
A Lion tamer
Is a Lion.
If you cant stand her roar, and beg for more-
Perhaps you should let her prowl on.
IT COMES FOR YOU
When anxiety comes for you. You’re never ready.
And you never will be. You never really know what your mind is capable of until you’ve been up for hours doing everything and nothing at the same time. You are never ready. You are never ready for when it hits you in a room full of people you love, or lying next to someone you wish you could give your life to. You are never ready. You are never ready for getting lost and trying to find your way back. You are never ready, and you never get used to it and you can never, ever outsmart it. Anxiety comes for you. And it eats you alive. It eats you without the drugs, without the food, without the booze, with all the love, with all the hugs with everything you could ever want and ever need and still it comes for you. Tell me to let it go. As if I wouldn’t in a heartbeat. Tell me to just move on. As if I could from everything I’ve ever known. Tell me to lighten up. As if I wasn’t trying. But it comes for me. It comes for me when I pretend like it isn’t there. As it hides in corners as I smile and flirt and shake and drink and think that everyone is buying it…. It will grab me from the heights, or sink lower than my lowest. But still, always. It comes for me. You think about problems, or a world you never knew existed. A hyper-sensitivity that eats you like digestive biscuits. Once you’ve sailed the boat, you sense the ocean. And now I feel its movement. I know its taking over me. I sense its familiarity bringing new rythyms. Nulling my senses, throwing me inwards letting me play hide and seek with myself until I’m so exhausted I sleep for the day. And the next. When anxiety comes for you. You’re never ready.
When anxiety comes for me. I’m never ready. No matter how many steps, or checks, or parts of myself I thought I had identified. I am an island. In a heartbeat. As I’ve seen my nearest drift away. And wash their hands in the saltwater. And I do not blame them at all. I can’t. It is overwhelming. You only really know someone in their quietest moments. Not screaming or running or dancing or drinking coffee in that lovely place you once went. But on a Wednesday. Or a Sunday morning. And the person you know wakes up grey. The colour washed from them as you see them drowning slowly throughout the day. Red eyed for no reason. Wrapped up and shaking, placing themselves in any part of their head apart from this moment, where it is too hard to occupy. But please. Just someone hold my hand. And let me be quietly next to you. I don’t need consolation, or re-formation of confirmation of what it is I’m going through. I don’t need to talk it out, but let it simmer, and hope it withers away by tomorrow. Just hold my head. And take the weight. Even if its just one moments sweet escape that’s enough for me. But please. Just hold my hand. Or hold my heart. Hold any part of me that breaks away, just for today, just for a minute, an hour anything. Help me feel less. Just for a moment. I would just love to know what that feels like. And let me be quietly next to you.