Classic Beauty

my favorite side effect warning is for antidepressants

pros: you won’t want to kill yourself

cons: you might want to kill yourself

My Girl

She sat emotionless in the bed. The people around her were Vultures, although she was Okay with that, and didn't dread.

Deadly

She sat emotionless in the white room, As the vultures with the cure Preyed upon her between her legs. Eyes closed, she imagined doom.

Deadly

She sat in a bright room; mind twirling. There were others like her in That bright room, recovering, knowing Well their souls were swirling.

Deadly

She sat in the car; a shell. Watching the world pass by She thought to herself, When she would be going to Hell.

Deadly.

Sinner.

No Regrets.

Think of all the stories this car could tell. #funkyride #iwantthis

Dear Genevieve

I want you to know that you’re on my mind.  You are loved, cared about, worried about, and cried over.  I want you.  I need you.  I desire you.

You are not even a being that I can hold in my arms, and I ache for you.  I ache for you because I want to be your mother.  The ache in my heart for you may not be enough to make you real, and that breaks my heart.

You need to know that I’m fighting for you, my love.  I’m fighting so hard that I feel this tightness of urgency.  I want you to be real, but I realize that I can’t force you into being of this world.  Your father is scared, and I don’t know how to comfort him.  I don’t know how to protect him from his valid fears.

Know that you are wanted, but fears can push you back and make you evaluate what you want for your future.  I want you so damn much that I’m forgetting your father has feelings, and I need to respect them.  I want him to want you like I want you.

I’m praying to God that if you are to be real, then to please put the desire of you in his heart.  Or if you are not to be, then take the desire from mine.

You will always be wanted, you will always be loved, you will always be on my mind.

Mom

Yummy in my tummy.

Beautiful

Diego Gravinese The Duration of Promises Oil on canvas, 180 x 140 cms

Me right now because I have a case of the jet lags.

I have a bit of a silly thought about puddles. Maybe puddles are a glimpse into another world. You can only see it through water, and once it dries up, the portal into the other world disappears. Maybe this is why natural disasters happen. Maybe someone is jumping into a puddle happily and giddily not knowing they are being a districtive force. Maybe this is why natural disasters happen every once in a while. Perhaps we don’t know our own force. Perhaps, someone is jumping into a puddle and causing chaos on our world. Thoughts?

When you have nothing left to give, you let them suck you dry; mind, body, and soul.

I’m the mother to a wonderful 7 week old, and at times I get sad because I don’t know what he wants when he’s crying and I’ve done everything possible for him, and I come to the conclusion that maybe it’s just me.

I’m very calm with him, I love him, I smile sweetly at him, I say to him that I understand that there’s a divide between us and I wish I could help him more as I kiss his chubby cheeks. And when he calms down, if he calms down, I hug him close until he falls asleep, and I but him down in his bassinet. I stare at him in such awe that I’m in love with this little creature, that when I sit down and focus on my breath, I realize that I’m dying a little on the inside.

My child breaks me everyday, but when he looks at me and focuses on me, I pick myself up again and start all over.

I realize I’m very hard on myself, but with my history, I gravitate towards it because it’s my punishment. I’ll admit that I love my child more than myself, that I care about him more than myself, but I’ll keep going because he needs me, and I need him.

I need him.