NPM 2016: Day 6 {Etcetera}

Etcetera
August 21, 2015

I have started with myself
working from the ground up
where the blistered feet,
these weakened ankles you say,
won’t carry me.
And I know I keep saying
I can carry so much
I can hold so much.

It’s because you’ve never carried
anything so desperately needing
to be held onto.

And I know I’ll keep carrying
all the things I am holding
-burdens or otherwise-
even if
you say I can’t.

Because it’s this, or
I’ll just wear them
as perpetual bruises
or open wounds
or ragged scars
in this flesh you call
weak and unused.

Because it’s this, or
I’ll become them,
closer than a mask
and tighter than a cape,
more like a second skin of
all the otherness of myself
I have refused to possess.

I am beautiful and strong
not because I am not scarred
but because I choose to hold
the etcetera of my life
and carry it with me
until I know what I’ve been
carrying it for.

NPM 2016: Day 5 {Unrelinquishing}

Unrelinquishing
August 19, 2015

Favored seasons are flavored yet
by these unrelinquishing regrets,
where the cider cups
and the appled stuff
trip us on the post-summer steps.

Each prematurely fallen leaf
and misplaced ad for Halloween
wither within
my chest like a bin
full of discarded flowers, forever unseen.

And the wilted petals blossom out
from silent shivers to shaking shouts,
where a bright affection
replaced by winter’s inflection,
redeemed only when the wind is out.

I’ll never be ready for the fall.
I long to go back and absorb it all
before sorrow unlocked
like an autumnal clock
making my large joys small.

NPM 2016: Day 4 {Darkness and flesh}

Darkness and flesh
July 31, 2015
For a friend.

This is the thing you would have understood.
The whole world howls against me,
it has a mouth full of malice and its fangs
destroy my body, limb by limb.
You understood darkness and flesh.
You felt the shadows of death upon you
and rose up to meet them like a warrior.
How did I not learn these things from you
until now? Without knowing, without you,
for one year, one month, and thirteen days.
In your absence I have been ravaged
by claws of doubt, by whispers of fear;
I have faced the edge of the world
and hoped only to know
what you say waits on the other side.
And I could tell myself what you would say,
I could hold myself as you would, calmly.
I could love myself as you would love me
but all I have left
are the echoes of reminders,
the ghosts of sacred memories,
the lingering spark of a flame
which you gave to me
to light the world.

NPM 2016: Day 3 {Little Red Boat, Pt. 2}

Reaching the Other Side (Little Red Boat, Pt. 2)
July 30, 2015

When she reached the other side
she climbed grassy hills in the rain,
she touched time and scaled towers
but the other side
seemed to be nowhere.
And when she came out of nowhere
on the underside of the other side
like a flower growing backwards
to see the earth it came from
she still got stuck
trying to find her way.
And she asked me,
which is better.
To stay, or to try?
Stay, try, stay, try.
I got her into the boat,
the boat into the water,
and when I got her to cross
she conquered every fear.
But a life of finality
has led her to believe that
even when nothing is wrong
the choice she makes
must be right.
Even when nothing is divided
she tries to choose a side.

NPM 2016: Day 2 {Firebreath}

Firebreath
Written April 2, 2016 - based on an original piece of writing from July 11, 2015

No story can prepare
or song divulge the truth
of the creatures we admire
in naivety or youth.
Whether naturally sweet
or sinister by choice
they can silence a life
and stifle a voice.
I have nurtured the eggs
and tendered my soul
toward their disposition
whether gentle or cruel.
But it will not matter
when they finally crack
if love is their birthright
or if that's what they lack.
I can claim this hope
but I would be a liar
because this life is a dragon
and all dragons breathe fire.

National Poetry Month 2016: Day 1,and an Introduction

Happy National Poetry Month! This is, by far, one of my most beloved times of the year. It's a burst of joy and inspiration between Christmastime and my anniversary. (Yes, I use my anniversary for artistic adventures. Deal with it.) As usual I will be posting on each day of April, using a combination of poems I've written during the last year (May 2015 - March 2016) and some written the day-of or perhaps just more recently. I will include the poem's original date and explain if it has been edited since then--or not. I may occasionally include personal art with the poems.

Enjoy!

Unfolding
March 31, 2016

her soul was a tapestry
woven by the twilight and
embroidered with fire.
when the world split
it was as if
blackened smoke lifted
from a tear in the fabric.
all the stars shifted
to watch her unfolding,
to understand
how creases fade
and edges fray
so beautiful and slow.
and once more they turned
with old and brilliant light
to see his weathered hands
take her corner by corner,
gathering her in,
healing thread by thread
with enough colors
to cover the sky.

A New Season

I've been absent from the blog for over three months, so it's safe to say a new post is long overdue. Of course, you're all in luck, because it's almost my favorite month of the year: April! And we all know what that means. (In case you've forgotten, April is National Poetry Month, which equals a post/poem for every single day.)

Ahem.

Before I prepare you all for the wonder and joy of NPM, I should give some  updates, since my last post was somber--for good reason--and slightly ominous. I re-read it very briefly, to review my state of mind at the time, and couldn't get through it because things have certainly changed since then.

I'm not the first person on the internet to divulge details about depression and anxiety. I know that. I didn't expect to get an onslaught of sympathetic notes or anything. But part of the tragedy of depression is that we so often, for a multitude of reasons, feel as if our depressed state is something to be hidden or dismissed. I have been among those secretive people, deciding that I am fine and behaving as if I am fine to the best of my ability until I simply can't handle it anymore. I chose to express myself in a blog because it seemed to be the most honest way of admitting I needed assistance and also explaining why I had to make some difficult choices.

In any case, it has been an interesting three months.

For the first time since I was 19 I started an antidepressant. The first round was fascinating, especially the first week. I considered blogging the first week to talk about my extreme exhaustion due to the medication and wanted desperately to talk about my vivid dreams. My favorite side effect is definitely the vivid dreams. I've written previously about how realistic my dreams are, but these are on a whole new plane of fantasy. Usually I'm able to tell myself while dreaming if something is real or not--for instance, if something really terrible has happened or I'm scared, I can calm myself down and convince myself that it's not real and eventually I will wake up. But not anymore. Unicorns? Totally real in my dreams. Rainbows? They actually taste delicious. And don't get me started on the people I've dreamed about. Basically, I have no way to differentiate between subconscious concepts or reality. 

Other than the dreams, the exhaustion, and the incessant jaw-breaking yawns, it has ultimately been a successful experience. 

I can't describe to you the joy of being physically calm and mentally calm at the same time. Don't get me wrong, there are still plenty of stressful things in my life and moments filled with anxiety, but they no longer overwhelm my body and brain. I am completely astounded that I have not had any serious side effects and am thankful that this treatment is actually available to me.

Due to this blessing, as strange as it may be to call it a blessing, I have felt more like myself than I have in years. I have been painting a lot. (Sidenote: I redid the blog's design, and the background is one of my fun watercolors!) I have been able to read and draw and develop relationships new and old. I have been able to focus on the good things and handle the bad things.

I'm not going to say I'm happy. Happiness is a temporary, insignificant feeling. My goal is not to be happy. My goal is the ability to find contentment in every circumstance.

Of course, sometimes that circumstance involves going to the beach... and feeling happy.

More later. The next time I write here, it will be a poem. The time after that, it will also be a poem. Because National Poetry Month is coming. So watch out. ;)