Perhaps just sometimes the story… finds the story teller
not the other way around

She existed because she dreams
She dreams no more

It’s in the pages
It’s in the words

Search with me
And perhaps you or I will find who is telling the story

She’s been bleeding along time
suffering in poetry and prose

The dreamer will dream no more
The pen has been laid to rest

It’s already been said

Video Poetry
By: ~L

~L

I bleed words of moments meant to be left alone.

I cry emotions that have never been fully grieved
…And I wonder what is the point

…temptation for total control is dangerously increasing.

…letting go?   … It’s not working and my thoughts of surrounding opinions and judgment from others – I am allowing it to eat away at whatever little amount of self-love I have.

…I need help today – but my fear, pride and self-disgust that it’s still so big, is getting in the way of reaching out my hand and asking.

Some days I wish I could stop writing in poetry and pros and bluntly say why it is that hurts so bad; why it has been such a long road and why it’s not just as easy to “get over it”.   … why I doubt, fear, love the way I do, lack trust… and

I am screaming inside again… listening to the resounding voices, “give up”.

-I have a choice to ignore that nagging voice… but sometimes I like the feeling that it could all be done with one choice. There are hundreds of words following that thought, but…

God, please lift me in a place of peace – pour courage into my spirit to be strong enough to continue. Forgive me for all my doubt… my faith is weak.

I don’t want a tomorrow
I just want the dust to take my tired body and free this soul from this world that teases it with amazing wonders and love – beauty and laughter – oh the joy is an amazing feeling to experience… those moments ARE beautiful … yet this soul has become buried by the reality of pain and I don’t want a tomorrow…

————————————————————–

There’s  a poem I wrote a few months back tittled, I Am Many, that captures this moments that I’m enduring right now.

I feel that there is war of clashing  and somewhere I know which one I want to be but she is so scared and passive, confused and full of shame.  She wants to hide all the awful away… there is a raging war within and I just want it to stop…  stop.

Tomorrow may only be a day away, but it’s another day closer to a day I never want to come to be.

~L

I want to scream aloud
all the pain that lies within
dig at my rejecting flesh
no longer can I withstand to inhabit this skin

I desperately grieve
for this agonizing energy to leave
pleading for it to flee!
be gone
go away
I want ‘me’ back
PLEASE!!!!

My body is in great agony!
How long must this go on?
I am falling – I am weak
I am sick of being incomplete
This fear won’t let my mind speak

Too much pain to even gasp
these silent screams too much for one to grasp
there is nothing left but to collapse
as tears now trail
their threats never prevail

This is Hell on earth
I am extremely certain
behind this curtain stages Satan’s lingering flames
His relentless games
and fear has set a blaze to every single nerve!All as I am drug across another day
where the shards of glass continue to rip open my flesh
as I bath in the salty sea as it floods
with the  forever-spilling of my blood…
waiting for sharks to attack –
because as long as I’m a bleeding beating drum
THEY WILL COME

I am burning in pain with excruciating silent screams
desperately trying to
break free from the silence
of unending sadness
and increasing madness

In desperation,
~L

I am under an extreme amount of pressure and situational struggles that need my  attention.  It’s hard to make this decision because it is you, my readers who are very encouraging and affirming.  I appreciate each one of you and I’m very grateful for the kindness you have shown me.

I don’t know how long it will be?  …perhaps a week, two… or maybe a poem once every other week. (…through one up there for a Free Write Friday and just let it be, with out the pressure of the ‘rules’ of poetry.  Of course those rules are mostly my own set of standers and perhaps ridicules ones – but none the least… I allow it to suck me in to play the role of pressuring me to ‘do it just so’)

I will still be writing (always), yet for now it will be with pen and paper (and a sore hand) ;) Feel free to read previous posts and share your thoughts if you feel so led :) I just edited five posts that explain my story as best as it could be shared… so much that I even learned about myself re-reading them today… and you know you’re going through a slump when that happens.

You can catch up there or wherever when you want to. When your comments come across my phone throughout the day, they always give me a warm feeling that someone is caring at the moment enough to take the time to share their thoughts about reading something I wrote from my heart.

This is a good little break for me.  … again I will read your amazing blogs while I can… while I’m waiting in the waiting room for appointments, in the car when I pick of kids… when I’m in need of some moments of getting out of my head. OH!  …and the nights when I need a good read because I can’t sleep… I will be checking in on you all.  :)  I love reading your posts too.

With much appreciation as a girl can extend,

~L

Oh, and P.S.  (I leave you with an amazing, amazing, amazing song… I hope you take the time to check it out)

Trusting, leaping out in faith, and learning. Oh! …  and my very favorite part of the song is at – 2:03.

Trying the best I can…  praying the words to this song.

Because a next moment makes me think….this moment needs to make sure  that next moment does not come.  And sometimes everyone’s answers of how to fix that… it’s not as easy as what it sounds… and I don’t expect one to understand; for they can only understand what they know.

Desperation… Desperation will make you do the unthinkable. It is easy for one to judge another and say “I would never… ” but the truth is, you have no idea what you might be willing to do until you are there.  When you’re eye to eye with desperation, when your body is broken and your mind divided, you will do exactly what you must to survive…

A death of the spirit is worse than a death of the body.

Who is responsible for this girl?
Lost within a dream
Plummeting to the next obscurity
Caught within her mind that is now dreaming within a dream
Subconsciously searching for security

The only means to escape this life-mare, obnoxious
Is for the subconscious to look for another dreamer
One to find the key to her soul that has been locked within a box
A braver dreamer
One who dares to dream deeper
And there they will search for the secrete keeper
Break in and take back her name
Reveal the secrets to free her shame

.
Projections of her subconscious
creates a space to search for the rules
Rules that have cast spells for their main tool
To leave her hushed with faith unconscious
The feelings she carry are more intense
than this visual before her frame
From ones her attacked in ways so cruel
…And now, to save her name
She must play this game

.
.
.Who is responsible for this girl?

Searching for her true identity
All these imposters, her name they borrow
Yes, to get her through the sorrow
The screams
The expectations
And dreams
Of the yesterdays and tomorrows

The new dreamer searches for this key
Hidden between the forged names
Buried amongst books
Books that created a library of a life filled with  alters from all ages
Her life wages
within the dream as it enrages

Who is responsible for this girl?

Dose she dare bring the subjects of evil into rem
Let their thoughts stem
as they sprout their secrets
to pave the way in finding her gems?
Steal them back from the ones who condemn!

However
though it may be able
Seeds that plant into the mind
changes everything.
Dreams within dreams are too unstable
A comeback she may not be prepared to bring
The possibilities of their sting

She is no longer just words in the book
But now thoughts that are shared
Here lays the new hook
No, it’s not fair
The dream is collapsing
They found her scared
Now impaired
Relapsing
Tempting to do what’s been declared

Who is responsible for this girl?

.

Is she dead
Or just lost within her head
Dreaming of dreaming
And in the dream dreaming again
Trapped

Where is the ‘kick’ to jolt her back?
Dreamer number two,
fall within another dream
They are invading her thoughts
Quick switch
Don’t get caught
Hurry, find her name

.                                                        …

~

Constructing a dream from your memory
Is the easiest way to lose your grasp on
What is real and what is the dream

Welcome to limbo
Where her name is buried
and reality and dreams are married
Searching for the key to uncover her name
The name that is stuck with in this dream
Accumulating toxic shame

Who is responsible for this girl?

I am I am responsible to pull her from the depths of these current dreams
Those dreams collided with the reality of childhoods pain and fears now extreme
It is I, who holds the forbidden responsibility
To find her (no not her… my)
To find my name.

~L

.

.

Free Write Friday’s and dVerse Pub (undercurrents)

.

They’re hidden in each block
An embarrassment of unspoken evils

They’re embedded in brittle rafters
One way conversations
Burned by her transferred thoughts

They’re hanging in dark corners
Clinging in dusty webs
Spun by small witnesses

They’re contained in rusted pipes
The echoed screams that are silenced
An accomplice
to the removing of her mind

They’re corroding in a floor drain
Collecting guilt and shame
Growing the fear over many long years

They’re trapped by a 1×2 porthole
Where the fire of hell has welded shut the seal of hopeThey’re engrained in the ground
The spilled innocence
of evidence

They’re trying to fight their way out
Bound in a chest by brutal ropes
Holding them from freedom… they say – there is no leaving

       .  They’re are secrets
. .…    ,  They are mine

I’m working on to taking back the embarrassment
Embedded in each lying block

Realize the need to dig up the years
Stained within a cold-blooded floor

To flush out the pain and start taking back my mind
It has no place remaining in a filthy drain of shame

I want more than anything to break the seal of bondage
Shatter the glass of despair

One day to your face
I hope to sweep away the cobwebs
Fearlessly burn words into your brittle rafters
Then watch you cave
As your building of secrets come crashing down

I want to remove your power over me
Remove the guilt that has grown for years
It was never mind to keep
Here you go…
place it in your drain to grow
In your new dwelling place
Your 6×8 cell of shame

I want justice
to seal away your harm…
and if it was hell you wanted
here you go
One day, it will come
and then it will be your turn Count them up – one by one
Each block of embarrassments
as they’re there to remind you…

They’re…
They were secrets
They’re to be secrets no more.

~L

Titling the untitled one by one… I’m entitled – They’re  What they are…