Fun Quarentine Activity: Sprinkle Grass Killer In The Shape Of A Body On Your Lawn And When The Grass

Yes,

I often wonder if these frozen bones of mine could ever find warmth.

An empty bed does not ease me into an gentle rest.

And today, I found myself growing bitter with the frost. Food, water, light, sleep. Many questions. It is hard to know where my pain comes from.

Is this how bitter people are formed? Undergoing constant strife and feeling relief dangled and ripped away from them?

Or do they choose on some level, to become cruel or sharp.

I’ve been through pain. I am in pain right now. It is not the drowning I have felt before. More, a tugging sensation. Like night trying to pull away the dawn.

When i speak- It helps. I can put out all my worries and thoughts, and suddenly there are little strings to follow and find the problems that cause the worry.

I tell it to my love. For healing. But Saying so much pain. Will it cause him pain? Will it stop him from expressing his own? I want to take all the rough feelings he has, the anxiousness, the sad, the pain, and show him I love him along with all of them. And by showing him my own rough feelings, I hope he feels comfortable to show me all of his. But have i overdone it? Shared to many fleeting feelings? Do they make him anxious and worried? Does he hate me for them? Does he think this is all i have to offer??

Where is the line between expressing pain and wallowing in it?

I worry about my love. Is he mad. Is he happy? Is he secretly growing to despise me. Understanding more and more why I was deemed unlovable by those designated to love me. I want to shout! I can be more! I can be enough. Please give me time. I’ll be enough for you one day. Just please give me a chance to recover. I worry.

But I will not make these worries my reality.

I will not lose my gentleness.

My love, he has never asked anything of me, but to trust him. He’s a kind soul. Sweet and feisty and so strong but never scary. It is hard for us, to be so constantly far apart. I only want to ease his mind, and hold him close. I am okay today. And he is not. If only this vicious world would let me hold him. Perhaps that could soften the worries on his mind.

Why must life be so grating? It is not right. For us who have loved and us who have lost. We get no justice.

And yet,

I will not lose my love.

- - -

I am in a storm of emotion. Feeling little clarity. Scraps of thoughts battering my mind to anxiousness.

Why so much fear child?

Those gentle eyes in your head, offering to help quiet the storm. Kind words in your own voice, do not have to be the only ones you hear.

You are not alone. Give to others. Give it all. Take all they give back. You feel afraid?

You have nothing else to give?

Are you enough… with your raging fears… and constant problems?

Perhaps, those are not yours.

Is this even about me? How selfish am i? To keep all this kindness and never repay it. To receive all this love for my hardened heart. I am frozen my love. I am thawing. Am i too late? To know your love… I don’t feel i give enough. Do i give you enough love? I’m sorry for taking more than I give. I’m sorry for being unable to understand my worth to you. I am beautiful. I am sweet. These are things to give! My strangeness, my pain, my confused soul. These are things to hide.

and yet…

yet-

he says so much so quietly.

He is happier here, with me. I am not good at understanding such loveliness.

Evilness. Pain. Betrayal and dying. Such things consumed me and are not foreign to me. I know shitty things like the palms of my hand. They do not frighten me.

He says he loves all of me

He does not lie.

How strange…

almost frightening, to be loved so completely. Almost. I want to never leave him. I want to be everything for him. I have never been everything. But I’ve always been enough for him. I don’t understand … I don’t understand how when i am not all that i should be. I am not fixed yet. I am not perfect yet. I fuck up. I make a myriad of mistakes.

He still loves me. Always. How. How?

no matter what i say. What strange confused things I do. He never leaves. But i am not perfect!

why does he still love me when i haven’t fixed everything? me and all my flaws…

he loves

my imperfections.

I said once, to a different soul, that love was looking past all the imperfections. Yes the person has shaky hands and can’t spell to save their life. They get so confuddled and are shy and need dark rooms to stay in for hours. But they’re yours so you love them. (And they give such nice things! Like validation. Constant reassurance. To keep the loneliness at bay.) They serve their purpose. They are just a tool to gain happiness, and not… A person.

But my love… my love he…

He loves my shaky hands. He loves my confused mind and being smart and at the same time oh such a silly dumbass. He loves my jokes and my happiness. My voice and my heart. He sees so much loveliness in me. And in my human moments, he loves me.

For how painfully and constantly human i am- He loves me.

Hope this helps someone

- blue

that’s the one trouble with this country: everything, weather, all, hangs on too long. like our rivers, our land: opaque, slow, violent; shaping and creating the life of man in its implacable and brooding image.

forecast accurate / a southern gothic photo series from my sophomore year 2018

rain has tap tapped on my window

so i left it ajar so it could join me in my sleep

whisps of cool air were good company for my dreams.

awe hey im okay i just died from cramps

god things have been so hard recently

i saw the book moby dick and my first thought was “moby dick. more like move ure dick im gay”

200 days ago i told myself i needed to start healing. I even wrote it down.

And then i did.

It was hard.

And it hurt.

In August of 2021 I felt happy for the first time.

It’s now January and guess what? Things aren’t perfect or even that great.

And I. Am. Still. Happy.

Yes there are bad things. [I miss my partner who FOR SOME INEXPLICABLE REASON has chosen to be born british. And i am not. Thankfully. But it does mean he is far away. Not cool. >:\ ]

BUT IN SPITE OF THAT

I am still happy.

i am loved

i am love.

i like this.

And I love this

And i love me.

And I love my people who love me and helped support me while I healed.

And so, I am happy.

I had a dream

someone I loved

had their heart ripped out.

We trusted the wrong person,

and they suffered for it.

I had a dream

i held them as they slept

praying for a pulse

head buried in their chest

I had a dream they shook awake

as if from a nightmare.

Their face said confusion

their eyes wild with panic

I had a dream I calmed them

Relief in my tears.

“You really were worried about me”

They said, weak smile on their lips.

I had a dream i held them in close

shaking in relief

their head on my chest

I slept

wilbur's doing really well :D