Kinda feel like I showed up at the doll-factory, saying Fix me, I’m broken. and I’m meant to be well but they forgot that they’re fixer-uppers and they’re just staring at me funny and I’m waiting for them to do what I came for, but in the meantime my home is a purgatory, a hell. . .
So much longing in these bones, in these hollows stretched beneath this skin. A simple wish, a simple plea, but no one’s listening, no one’s feeling this prolonged torture—an inhalation without an expiration—a sigh without its suffixed-gap. I’m all alone inside this cage, locked up with only me.
The wall directly perpendicular holds a mirror of distorted perception. Its curves and contours draw me in, but there’s no place to go, no passageway to escape through, no body to embrace. Instead I’m reminded of A House of Clowns and the screams that bounce and echo against its shell. All of the little girls scared that they’ll never make it out again, suffocating in a claustrophobia of mind. Each individual trapped in an individual hell.
Over my left shoulder, his nervous tick keeps the time and slowly becomes my own. It’s an osmosis I didn’t plan for, and while I’m here I think it’s really important that we don’t confuse getting a diagnosis with getting rid of the pain.
Masochist in mind, in body, too. But really it’s just a search for truth, a lengthening into starlight, a promise made to my self to follow only what matters, practice only what matters, pray breathe dance sing scream that which matters.
THIS IS MY TRUTH SONG; AND WHEN I OPENED MY EYES TODAY, I REALIZED THAT I’M NOT A MERE SIREN ANY LONGER.
TRANSFORMATION IS AFOOT. AND IT IS BREWING A POWERFUL ELECTRICAL STORM.
I lie my body down, down on the ground, spreading my wings and letting them float me, opening my heart and letting it feed me, anchored by the bonds of your will and the chains of your curiosity. There is a dynamism here, a journey, a process underway. Yet that doesn’t really matter; that’s not the root of this all. My root has been unearthed and it is back to Persephone and her fling with handsome Hades. Smart girl. SHE HAD SOMETHING THERE.
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andY?
8 months ago
Let the pain flow through you. Let the landmarks flash by. Let yourself melt and a safe place will encompass all your broken parts.
Electrified lectures of delectable distraction… your life is not about the pain, but the intermissions and what you use the pain to create, like your art.
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Khandroma
8 months ago
“And a safe place will encompass all your broken parts.”
Mmmmm. Thank you, andY?
Thank you for becoming that safe place in so many forms and so many ways. I appreciate the reminder, too, and it resonates deep inside the blue-crimson walls of my heart’s chambers. There is creation here. There is breath released. There is art-in-the-making.
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