Just words

You speak to me when I am down, and when I am up I remember you.

[ewaneneollav]

[psych2go]

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[honigimohr]

i hope you find what your soul really needs

[aubeurn-deactivated20190812]

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

— Carl Jung 

[digitalloveslice]

I had a glass of wine

I’m 18 weeks pregnant and gave in in the middle of a really rough day. I don’t feel guilty yet, but maybe that will change.

[digitalloveslice]

I’m Pregnant!

And gaining weight really fast. I’m only 16 weeks, but I feel like I’ve been pregnant as long as I can remember. I don’t really miss the weed and the wine, but I do miss being allowed to escape at any moment. I guess this is what adulthood looks like. Grounding yourself in your own shit til the flowers bloom... No longer just another leaf blowing in the wind.

[digitalloveslice]

Returning to a Safe Space

It’s been more than a while and I’ve taken the peace that I’d previously found here, in this community for granted.

[digitalloveslice]

when you said there’s no reason to smile i only want to give you one even though by now i know that that’s not how love works I know you can not change your lovers arrogance i must think my love is magical to think i believe i could paint your world in color

[digitalloveslice]

A Thing Sits in the Mud

A think sits in the mud It beat me over the head A thing sits in the mud It wants to strike me dead A thing sits in the mud And feasts upon my mind This thing bathing in dirt A parasite of mine

I cannot figure what it wants It beats me over the head With lies and teases, hateful taunts All meant to strike me dead Tumultuous if unconscious It beats me over the head A searing pain so serious I’d rather die instead

I know this darkness has equal light That has been smothered and pushed inside Hidden within confines of mine Cannot be seen until it dies

The dirty thing drowning in soot That ought to be lodged under foot Which instead rests upon a nook Inside my head like a good book

I must do it’s abuse instead With patience and loving kindness Without the spite that is deserved For that will weigh me down to earth

When my soul is not of this world Which is why it was starved and learned To accept evil as is seen Without its lines looking between

The spaces have faces less obvious Than the ones you may see within strangers The spaces have faces begged to be touched So you must be peaceful with your mind’s anger

[digitalloveslice]

Lightning A choir of rain drops and quiet fan and clicking keys in the wet Louisiana heat

I plan to run away Like the ones who looked like me back in the day

Only to return only to be washed away

But i’ll  never look behind me even if they let the dogs loose

If there’s a mountain need climbing I will evade the noose

I’ve got a song in my heart But I’m too shy to sing it to you

I’ve got a wrist full of scars But the ones inside are invisible

I plan to fly away I wonder would they be proud of me I will not bear the weight But i’ll stand on the shoulders of history

Lightning strikes A quiet fan Makes harmony With clicking keys

While I plan out my escape In the wet Louisiana heat

[compariisonkills]

[justanextendedidentity-deactiva]

A day impacted by noise – a borehole being drilled,  a driver being irate, his horn obnoxious, neighbours having a squabble, dogs unbearably excited, a political rally here,  a thrilling football match there, beer bottles shattering, a two-year old exercising his lungs – oof!

Then,  call it respite, call it relief, like a bubbling stream,  like a soothing salve, her voice fills my senses, infused with lightness, I nod my head, tap my feet to the rhythm she picks mesmerising by the clarity delighted by its purity, Oh, the way she sings!

God!

I don’t know if You’ve noticed, there’s an angel missing from your choir. 

[digitalloveslice]

its been a while

but im back.

[wordsarephlowing-blog-deactivat]

Thin Sole, Lost Soul

She vanished in October Froze in Florida in November On a seventy degree day Frozen palms beside a palm

Her phone’s been off the hook for weeks Her sanity is springing leaks And there isn’t enough xanax On the planet to stay calm

The soles in her shoes have worn thin Does this end or yet begin Today she’s not gonna think of him Does this end or yet begin

Yesterday was the same as tomorrow Tomorrow’s the day before She distracted herself from mental health And wished she was a whore

Online dating’s so degrading Ads for love and sex At worst she’ll meet a murderer At best, a future ex The souls that she knew have worn thin Will she lose, or will she win? Today, she’s not gonna think of him Will she lose, or will she win?

© Roarie Borg, November 28, 2016

[thesecretletter]

You can’t love someone who hates themselves. You will end up hating them and yourself.

Your secrets are safe here (via thesecretletter)

[digitalloveslice]

A Life Outloud

She dances the way I would Alone Or in my mind Out loud At a restaurant In front of strangers In front of lovers With no abandon Sings how I wish The birds in my chest Would escape The way I wish I would Let my words fly away In the bathroom Near a grand piano Along the car ride In a field of lillies Sleeps like a babe With no shoulders To glance over At Night In the morning Across desert afternoons Her eyes A way out of my head

[digitalloveslice]

CR

I can never sleep through the night here Always pinching myself awake from dreams To see if I am still alive If you are still here So that I may Fall back into this world Twenty times into your arms But on the 21st I am alone Back home in my own bed Wishing I could fall asleep And back into your arms Another dozen times Your bottom lip Your crossed legs The way you stroked my soft parts Ferociously Things I can't get out of my head Simmer along While I hope for more to watch You step back into your days Like before me I fall back into the folds of your comfort In my poetry I have left too much with you