Crying Mary

She’s a no good harlot!

She’s possessed with evil intent.

She paints her face and wears improper clothes.

But, the winds scream Mary.

Why is she this way?

No one but she and her God know what happened to her.

One act of kindness from the Right Person-

She is healed.

And, the wind whispered Mary

My Catholic named is Mary Magdalene.

I know her pain and see through the lies.

Her invisible scars speak to me.

And, I cry MARY!

*giant nod to Jimi

Smoke on the Horizon

Curling my fingers around you like a Twizzler in my hand,

Chewing off the top and bottom carefully as not to be noticed.

A deep inhale brings a sigh of relief and a pang of worry.

You infiltrating my lungs as if long lost friends,

Sighing out the vapor is bittersweet-I don’t want to say goodbye but I want to say hello again and again and again…

How will I stop;

When will it end?

ReRape

How innocent is a flower

after being plucked a half dozen times?

Or a snowflake that has already melted

on a tongue?

How rosy are the cheeks

of a Holocaust survivor during their camping trip?

Or a worn to the bone mother of nine

who can’t recall which end of the blush brush

paints her pale skin haunting

her prominent cheekbones?

How many pens can a victim use

to tell what you have done ?

Or pages of paper-tear stained paper?

How many hells will you endure

before and after your death?

I don’t care.

Trying, B

As I stand trying,

the world goes on around me.

Little do I know what happens next.

I am loved by about three people in the universe.

Which is fine for most,

but not for me.

I want to be cherished and radically loved-

not for the potential but for the me.

I love but do not feel loved.

Yes, this is possible!

I am a burden to many,

loved by few, tossed and turned by the waves of life.

My depression breaks down the door.

Doors are just the polite way of coming in.

When is my turn

Or did I miss it?

I know I live in this house to learn,

but, please, let school be over.

I have tried beyond belief.

Punishing me; let this time be over!!!

I have learned.

Let school be over.

Let my freedom bells ring.

Let there be peace today!

Thank you for reading! I hope that you have an amazing day!!♥️♥️♥️

When Crying isn’t an Option but a Way of Life

I want to quit but don’t know how.

Fear flows from my head to heart to paper.

I never asked for this pain,

but I did the right thing;

Now I’m stuck like the tar baby.

I weep and moan, but no one hears-

not even my dogs, because I won’t let them.

I can’t let anyone see the real me.

There’s only one who would help, but he won’t.

Just one more day-everyone remarks.

What if that one more day is my last day?

This One is for the One I Love

I leap from jellyfish to jellyfish when I talk to you.

Never the same,

smack or kiss.

I am in my blue period of life, I guess.

What suits you? Anything I do?

You hate my freedom.

You hate my dogs.

You hate me. Maybe not on the surface but deep down where people don’t like to talk about sibling rivalry.

I was abused harder, but you had it worse, right?

Why is it always a competition with you?

Who cares?

You needle and needle and fucking needle, needle, needle until no one is happy. Everyone is in an uproar but you as you inwardly cackle.

You love it when a plan comes together! Your plan- no one else’s.

No wonder my brother hates me and loves you. Needle, needle.

Mom would be so disappointed and disapproving of you and your schemes.

You drive me to lunacy then let’s take a nap together.

Who are you like- Mom or dad?

The Day God Helped Me Walk

This morning I woke up without the ability to stand.

I couldn’t crawl or get back up onto the couch either

Though I finally beseeched God in prayer and could get water

But, my legs were giving and I barely made it back to my recliner before my legs gave out

So I haven’t eaten today, but have taken a slew of medicine

My spirits are up, because I serve a great God. He will heal me to walk again when I need to.

He’s a good, good Father.