Perma-Crisis

Photo credit: haleyrobertsphoto

There are days when I am afraid
Of what I will write given a pen and a paper
It’s scary and so steeped in sorrow
That it drips and puddles around me
If I admit to those insecurities, fears
I am afraid I’ll change in ways I can’t undo
So I think those thoughts
And let them die
Buried in unknown places
Without tombstones and inscriptions
I let them remain forgotten
Until they are born again
In a different form
On a different day for a different reason
But still the same
These demons roam free in my heartland
Every time I slash it down
These lifeless lumps crawl up again
and walk fearless
These zombies eat away
My Happy thoughts, memories and feelings
I close myself in
Day-in day-out
With walls and fences and
electric wires and cut glasses
All around me and my heart
I am never safe enough
It seeps into me like water
Finds creaks and crevices and freezes
This ice doesn’t thaw
The barbed wire around my heart
Tightens and drips blood
Some days it eases a little
My wounds breathe a little
But it’s always there
Chaffing and poking
Drawing blood
This permanent depression

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Not This Time

Not gonna lose the heels this time...

This time the fairy godmother gave her buckled sandals and assured her…

“You don’t need any Prince to rescue you from shit… All you just need is a fucking party and one hell of a good time… Go and get it girl…!”

So, Cinderella wore red and went for the ball and did exactly that.

When the clock struck 12 in the midnight, someone asked, “Did you see the Prince?”

Cinda asked, “Prince? What Prince???”

Guess what? Everything changed that night. Cinderella realized that she had the magic, always had.. and it was within her.

December

Wine rose
Wine n’ Roses

Does it matter that you are borrowing a bouquet and drinking wine alone? Nopes! You make do with what you have….

That’s what I did.

Cheers to December, to Me…
And to You…

Fly

Higher than you dare to fly?

Up above the clouds so high,

Like a tiny sore in the eye…

I fly.

Colors

Just because of the Yellow
Red or Green?
Bananananaaaaa
Plated
Kitchening….
Crabby

Tinge

Red-tinged – the color of sin

The color of pain

Of passion

Wounded in the heart and

Bleeding around the edges

It’s spreading

The color deepening

Not pure anymore

Not white anymore

Tainted flower, tainted me