Regaining Lost Aspects: Mind and Soul
Through book events, poetry, and creativity, we dive a little deeper into humanity.
Lonely, desperate, despaired
I stare up at you
Orphan to a forbidden cause
I look to the face of the moon
You are the only one to smile back
From the darkness in the sky
To the pits I was abandoned
Until you brought light to my life
Never leaving me lonely
Following me to where I need to be
Always up there smiling
You let my soul and self be free
Will the inscape of my poetry
Foreshadow my doom
Will it lay the groundwork for me
Intentions in a cradled moon
Or is it visions of my trauma
My past that lit fire after night
The things that built me lonely
Past and Future surely blight
     So, as you can see my husband worked a lot and nonstop so he could build the dream life he wants for himself and his family. He still continues to do this to this day, but so far things have gotten better. Throughout the years though it was not easy waiting with the heart breaking for the one you love to return and fill you with the love you so desperately needed to be filled up with again to keep going. My husband is a hero in my eyes, not just for working as hard as he has forever for us, but for fixing me and getting me to the point where I can actually look at myself in the mirror and not completely hate myself. He helped me get to a place where I never thought or dreamed I could have ever gotten to. I can actually love and enjoy life now and focus on my goals instead of battling with myself mentally and physically every day. I truly owe him my life. But as I said, the journey was not easy. There were a few times that depression and loneliness started to work deep into my mind and made things harder than they needed to be. Not today, but Tuesday I will continue this with some of the more deeply broken poems where I started to lose hope that things would ever get better and I started to lose faith in our bond. Â
(Sorry about there being no spaces between paragraphs and poems. For some reason it won’t let me fix it and it only wants to stay this way. Except for this last paragraph.)
I’m going to do three poems today from my past. Not the worst ones. There are some that I am a little hesitant to share, but maybe I will get to them one day. I have just so many journals full of them. I want to get them all out there, but I’m not a fan of letting anyone into my past and seeing my dark side. I’m talking my really really dark. But I feel like people should know that no matter how dark you may be or have gone, that you can pick yourself back up. Some of my horribly terrifying poems I have written shock me at how messed up I really was. I look at myself now and I feel so much stronger, better, and happier. I remember not too long ago when I thought that I would never be able to make it out of a certain something. I could see no light at the end of the tunnel, but I did it. I conquered something that I never thought would be possible, and doing that has made me realize that there are so many things that I can do and accomplish that I don’t even know about yet. It has made my marriage stronger, it has made me desire more to better myself, and it has helped me help people close to me and I’m hoping one day people who don’t even know me.
When Are You Theirs?
They keep coming and coming,
visions black with fear.
Eyes start blurring
from straining them to clear.
They won’t go away,
small glimpses of hell.
Killing, sex, and burning,
people dying out.
They keep on taunting,
never going away.
With nothing left worth seeing,
our imagination it plays.
Words they keep on coming,
silent as the grave.
All filled with lust and torture,
raping another’s game.
They just keep on stalking.Â
People, they want to sleep.
Kids while they’re playing.
Pets while they eat.
They just sit and watch at sin,
of sex, guilt, and play,
of lust, envy, and anger,
anything that’s lame.
While we’re all lame inside,
can’t move. Can’t think.
Can’t swim. Can’t flush out evil.
Can’t work. Can’t sleep.
We have things go in our heads.
Are they real? Are they true?
Is it when they control,
or end up marking you?
Marking you with scratches
from their icy fingers that burn.
With eyes that slice like knives.
With memories that yearn.
Is it when they make you suffer?
Is it when they make you play?
While making you have sex?
No control left to escape.
Leaving, It’s up to them.
To make fear rule.
As you keep on having visions,
while the demons take with you.
(When Are You Theirs was when I was having hallucinations when I was in late middle school and early high school, which I’m pretty sure were caused by a mix of medications I was taking. I won’t go into what the hallucinations were of course. Also, just so it is known, I am only now just naming some of these poems so it is easier to separate them and find out their meaning. In my journals they have no names. The poem below this I won’t name.)
Life is done.
Death is near.
We all hear panic.
We all see fear.
We close our eyes
to block out the pain.
The darkness has taken,
the light from the day.
She runs to hide.
Hide herself from strife.
He comes for her.
Comes to take her life.
He grabs her now,
rape in his mind.
His face all darkness.
His eyes not kind.
His hands all cold.
He holds the knife
and thrusts it home.
Her end in sight.
It strikes her heart.
She holds her breath.
Blood in her mouth.
Blood on her breast.
Her face turns pale.
She sheds one last tear.
Blood in her eyes, she swallows
the last of her fears.
(A poem with a mixture of elements I was obsessed with and that were going on at the time.)
Please
I’m lost, lonely,
frustrated, scared.
Worried, confused,
trapped, and bare.
My thoughts are running.
I’m drifting away.
I’ll never know if
I’ll see another day.
Everyone reads me
when I want to stay closed.
Waiting to seize me.
Me not wanting to go.
Waiting forever
for someone who’s real.
Not leaving me helpless
and making me feel.
Being numb and cold
not feeling a thing
makes you …. want to
only just dream.
Because while everything’s moving
as fast as it goes.
It calls into question
how far we will go.
Will we go on forever?
Are you and me real?
Or am I just sitting alone
waiting to feel?
Feel someone with me.
Someone against my skin.
Someone to love me
and let me in.
Someone to work with.
Someone to hold.
Please tell me you are out there.
And where I should go.
I’m done with being confused,
lonely, and scared.
I’m in desperate need to find you.
I need you here.
(Another one from my past, but sometimes I find some mistakes and/or I add on and finish up some poems from my past. Which is what I did for this one. It is great to see more clearly now. Not as clear as I would want to, of course, but clearer than when I was younger. Just have to keep sifting through our minds and figuring things out until life is precious to us again. Diving into these poems in my past feels like greeting and getting to re-know the past me. Sometimes it is dark and scary, but it helps to know that I did and have pulled through, and if I ever get encountered by darkness as black and vivid as what I have encountered in the past, that it is more than possible to pull through it again. :))
Regaining Lost Aspects: Mind and Soul 