Poem 666

Sometimes reality catches up with the fantasy. Sometimes a cold of the body or mind intefers from the projection of perfection i try to initiate. Sometimes even the stars don’t shine bright enough for my liking. Sometimes the rainbows bend and morph turning black and blue dripping blood and ink and lose their mystique. Some days you could give me a rose garden and I’d bitch about the thorn that pricked my finger. Sometimes i want to be everything for you but when i see you i crumble. You pick up my broken pieces and perform kintsugi on me like a heart surgeon emitting gold from his fingertips. Sometimes i work so hard on the dream in my mind that by the time i arrive i am spent. Massage my legs, my forehand, massage my mind. Remind me that i am safe. Project your telepathy on self worth.

Forever down, down, down, down, never up, you follow me down the spiral staircase that is my endless big empty. The void swallows me whole. You wear armour. Untouched by the stench of melancholy that surrounds me like a a dirty aura. We plan a night of myth and legends but instead i tremble, makeup runs, i fall into your arms and breathe in your essence as if you are my oxygen. Instead of feeding my fire you hold me tight and watch Doctor sleep.  We morph into each other, bodies and soul collide. You hold me tight, pet my hair. I cry for you. I cry to you. All the bottled up tears are set free. I am reminded i have magic in myself. I am reminded you are the catalyst. Everything turns to gold. I can see myself Better when i see me through your eyes.

Published by Brigitte af Transmorvica

interests include blogging personal improvement chromotherapy root work and herbal remedies shadow work talking about my past to heal and help others mental illness mental wellness pain spirituality working with our ancestors spell tutorials fashion makeup family dynamics healthy boundries discovering ones own inner beauty homelessness addiction recovery childhood wounds attatchment styles self care creative block art happiness inspiration hope depression movies music traumatic brain injury Joker and Harley Quinn love bipolar borderline coping strategies complex ptsd self harm stuffies pets little space quarentine books relationships ego

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

<span>%d</span> bloggers like this: