Tag Archives: love

Tactile Surreality.

Passing gradients and swirl dream dyes.

bumps, crackle, white-red sparks
chest expanding lifts,
tippity-top of the brain
rolling eyes.

oxygen widening the tubes
seeping into nubs
tinkling jerks and winces

Smooth rippling tides by gentle lilies.

Self obsession a cure
for redirection
and healthy minds
healthy hearts
healthy lives.

Ease, a belief of connected souls.

snap, crunch, crackle, brittle
seeping, crystals, thick
soft, compact, tough
tender, hurried, curious.

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What is this 

Running alcohol

Of emptiness 

In between my lungs and at the centre of my lower spine.

Coldness appears like the chill unexpected at 4am after a night of tossing in humid Asia.

Mental tears forming and pooling

Empty eyes.

Fear, burrowing, curling. 

Slightest needles of agonising icy spears jabbing incessantly behind and above the breasts

Breathing getting tougher as nostrils seem to tighten and air gets sweeter.

Shrapnel sweetness of air, loneliness pains, clenched muscles in the calves and butt.
Loneliness beyond romantic and platonic friends and partners.

Loneliness in this universe, always expanding never ceasing to stop or slow down and each connection growing steadily further.
God is infinite. Is there and mind proportionate stretch of me between Him as the universe speeds on by?

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Crushing loneliness is realising that both of your past relationships began with sex, progressed into romance due to their feeling obligated to your growing love/emotional attachment to them, and ended with the first breaking up on your 8th month saying he was too young to be tied down but has been with his current for 2 years, and the second landing you with depression and anxiety that have not faded 2 years since.

Crushing loneliness and agony is realising you were single for about 3 months between the two relationships, and have been single for 2 years since the last. Many around you are on their way to marriage, have started their careers. While you’re here single, jobless, and lonely.

Crushing loneliness, agony and helplessness is when you have friends who love you and you love back, but you can’t meet cause some days you just can’t bring yourself to be around other people. It’s seeing loving couples and feeling so jealous a disgusting green bitch comes out, playing off as “sassy”. It’s being afraid to start work for equal fear of achievement and failure. It’s sleeping late, waking late, lists that never get fulfilled and projects started but not continued. 

Crushing loneliness, agony, helplessness and frustration is applying to jobs since January, trying out dating apps, avoiding sex and unhealthy emotional relational attachments for 8 months now, going on dating apps, starting 2 creative projects, getting a 3 month freelance job, a test for a potential job, being on the waiting list for the final interview of another potential, and still be clueless. Not knowing why I’m in this state, where I’m supposed to go, what I need to do.

Why I’m not loveable enough to be wooed.
My friend told me to stop thinking about what I can do for someone to love me, but love myself and let whoever deserves me appear when the time is right.

It’s hard when I have control issues, anxiety and depression. When I find it hard to believe I can be loved by someone. Hurt by men, friends or not, with me just a body to so many, and when it was more, dropped because I wasn’t what they wanted me to be, because I couldn’t give them what they needed. They weren’t perfect, but I feel like I wasn’t good enough.

How do I get out of this quicksand, leaving me waist deep with nowhere to go, affixed and trapped? How do I find a job, my passion, my love?

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Mind state.

Desperate for love

Dejection from rejection

Agony from disdain

Sadness with solitude.

People pleasing, pleasure pursuit.

Addiction and impulsiveness.

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Depression as a woman

Imagine feeling empty, sad, hopeless, worthless, directionless and lost.

Anxious and panicky, sensitive to lights, sounds and casual words.

Couple that with monthly intense mood swings, tears that flow easily, body aches and exhaustion, need for sleep throughout the day, aching back and swollen breasts.

Now your emptiness and loneliness is heightened with the consistent flow of blood and unfertilised eggs.

My brain becomes a ticking alarm clock reminding me it’s time for my pill again.

Its choice of alarm tune?

The urge to pop handfuls of pills, to get knock out drunk, to do something, anything to mute the mind and feelings. She doesn’t scream at the back of my mind anymore, but her toxic breath fogs the brain in the meantime.

Up till I take that little pill and go to bed. Things are better when I wake up. But in between, there’s no guarantee what the subconscious will unleash on my sleeping mind.

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Of sweet infatuation.

My darling, my sweet.

There is no one quite like you, with your glistening pink lips, those sparkly brown eyes, your firm warm hands keeping mine safe.

Oh my love, my dearest.

You drive me wild; I can’t help being impulsive around you. A single flicker of a memory and I am yours, in spirit, heart, mind, soul.

You’re a groan towards heaven, a flush of the cheeks, you’re the sweet, drunken swig of wine, that first wisp of petrichor before the storm.

My dearest, my lover, my one and only.

Oh please melt in my arms so we can be closer. Time, distance, age and experiences separate us but with love, yes love, we are two peas, my honey. Kindred spirits oh my Humbert Humbert. 

Take me in, watch over me, lift me, twirl me, caress and pet me, for I am your pet and you my everything. 

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No more. Moving on

I’m tired of downward spirals.

Mental health, physical health and emotional health will only get better from here on. Mistakes made owned up to, laziness acknowledged and just a whole lot more personal responsibility taken for the shit I do. 

That includes accepting the things I did not do and to love myself consistently, beyond mistake made and mistakes done to me. 

The planets are aligned to allow for self-realisation. All around me couples are ending their old commitments, as are people to themselves. They’re looking out for their own hearts, souls and future by sifting through the past.

I sifted through mine and found my heart still broken, found that behind the anger and hurt and bitterness was the young, innocent, fragile girl broken by the attention her body and energy attracted, broken by separating heart and body, love and sex. The one person she started to give her heart to smashed it to smithereens. He was unavailable and she took it, unable to believe that she could be wanted. She believed she was wanted and dreamed big until he revealed the lies he told through shared dreams and hopes and love.

That girl made an appearance again today when she thought of the boy she rejected for her first boyfriend, the one who she met at a time in her life when she was most detached from her heart, but told him she felt detached from him. The boy who loved so quickly she couldn’t accept it because she couldn’t love herself. And then she learnt that she could, but lost it again when she found out 8 months with her first love was all a lie.

If you’re reading this, Bug, I hope you know how sorry I am for hurting you. And I hope I’ll be able to say I’m sorry for what you had to experience rather than the apology I gave long ago that was simply a pity-party. 

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Real dandelion ring , dandelion seed jewelry , good luck ring , dandelion wish , mini terrarium jewellery , botanical jewelry , make a wish

(Real Dandelion Ring, Ruby Robin Boutique)
(Old Cabin – Where Did You Go)

fingerprints melded with heated sand
sunlight shy of heat
embalmed with memories and longing

night sky drifting, spinning, glorious ascent
floating beneath starry gazes
watching as life springs up under cool soil

musky wood, bonfires, community
dreams and wishes, soft breath
counting the hours on puffs of dandelion

sink into smoky wisps, curling,
the fire sparks and flits
captivating potential for destruction
locking eyes, thorned connection.

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Pulling me in

My mother told me to stay away from men like you.
Those with tongues of honey,
those who lift you upon pedestals
made from the lies they made you believe.
Men who make you go, “Poor baby”
and tell you constantly about how you opened up their eyes.
Men like my father.

But you were not like the others.
You were cute and geeky and honest.
You understood me and I could always read you.
I always joked about how you were the male version of me
And then we’d laugh, falling into each others’ arms
before holding each other close in silent harmony.

You made me feel so beautiful.
I am my heaviest in years, the entirety of my life
but I was satisfied with me loving myself alone
Until you came and told me
How beautiful my strong legs are
How perfect my ass was
How gorgeous I am on the inside and out
How cute I could be, the Joey you want and miss

Because there were days where I drew apart
because this wasn’t right and we knew it.
But you were my latest addiction
and I kept being pulled back in

How could I say no to someone who sees me as their closest friend
who wants me in their life so much
who was the only one who ever told him that
“With you, I don’t want to think about the future”
who listened to him and cared about what he had to say.
I wanted to be your giver and provider.

I wanted to help you fall in love for the first time.
I wanted to be wanted and needed and above all chosen.
And you gave me that and beyond.
You gave me what I needed to give myself.
You were my coward’s way out.
And I kept getting pulled back in.

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Letting go

It’s for the best.

These words have been said three times,
Three separate occasions
Two agonizing heartbreak over text
One whispering loss hidden by denial.

Denial of self-love,
self-respect and the right thing.
Acknowledging labels and societal lines crossed,
we both said it’s for the best
and said goodbye.

You said you want to tell you children
and their children and their children and so on
about the woman who introduced you to Mexican food
who taught you about sex and kissing

But all I want is for you to see
how perfectly your face fit in my hands as I stared into your eyes
soft and gentle adoration
between bites and suction and arms so tight
clinging squeezing
like I was your oxygen
and your marriage was an underground cave.

Soft butterflies after forever
and confessions of feelings have never felt so right
that “wrong” was not in our vocabulary
that “affair” was not technically true
and maybe it was for the best
and yes I know it’s for the best

But it’s 3:25am
And as I lie here unable to sleep
nerve-wrecked about my interview,
bingeing and distracting and succumbing to old habits
I can’t help but to think of you.

Of soft stolen kisses
and whispers of friendship

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