Poem #5

Like a rose that refuses to die

In the harshest of winter

Exsisting solely to thrive

You are like a musical instrument

That only i know how to play

And when your melody is heard

It takes my pain away

You are like the sun

In this darkness i hide behind

Enveloped in broken glass and rusty nails

Together our time we bide

You break down my walls

I have nothing left to lose

Whether near or away

It’s you i will always choose

Addicts and family

The addict wants nothing more than to be clean. Once they are addicted that is. An addicted mothers worst fear is to have their child taken away because the child becomes the only link to normalcy they have and reawakens a glimmer of hope that their life means more because of their child. A functioning addict will raise a family and go to work and no one will be the wiser.  My father was a functioning alcoholic and i didn’t know until he was on his death bed because of it. Sometimes the addict cannot cope but the drugs make life managable. Not much different from prescription meds but self medicating holds a far worse stigma. I do believe with all my heart that some children should be taken away from their parents if they are using infront of them or blowing money that is supposed to pay the bills. The truth is the child is just that. A child. They love their parents unconditionally and would rather be with them than without them. Its a slippery slope. Luckily there is a rehab around here women can go to where their children are allowed. And they get the opportunity to heal together. Just because the addict is addicted it will never outweigh the love for their child. Unless they are heartless, then call CPS

A love letter

This is for the the mad men and for the  women who run with wolves. This is for the non-bianary. This is for the aspies and the borderlines. This is for the trans and cross dressers. This is for the outcasts, the celestial beings, the holy, the starving artists, the condemed,  the weirdos, the prophets and the misunderstood. This is for the too smart for their own good. This is for the unapologetic. This is for the too much girl and the guys who put up with us. This is for the black, the white, red skinned , yellow and everything inbetween. This is for all of us. This is for the book smart and the street smart. This is for the conspiracy theorists. This is for the destitutes, the outcasts, the drifters, the dreamers and the clinically depressed. This is for the PTSD survivors. this is for the thrivers. This is for the mothers, and the good dads.This is for the suicide survivors, the cancer survivors, the stroke survivors and their family and friends. This is for the deceased, my best friend Dave and my dad. this is for every man and woman who gave their  life to protect my freedom. This is for the addicts and the emt’s. This is for the nurse’s, the practitioners and the healers. This is for every person who wanted to crawl out of their body in the mist of being bullied or ridiculed at some point in their life. This is for every teenager making their way through high school up to every elder making peace with their remaining years. This is for the hustlers, the get that money bitches and the good men who treat women with respect. I see you. And I love you.


These are the things i have learned.
1. Faith is important.  Pray to God Ween Satan the stars the ancient ones your higher power.  Alah Buddha.  Even science. No. Not Scientology.  But once you believe in something greater than yourself you will not be finding yourself in a codependent relationship with someone that might leave.  The thing about borderlines is we have abandonment issues. In most to all cases we were abandoned so our fears our logical.  We are the “too much girl ” we fly off the handle. Our apologies become lost in translation.  We’re the biggest stigma. They say we are crazy and unhinged. That we ruin everything we touch.  The comments on the internet make my teeth come out and i have probably gained more fans than ememies for my feedback on thier sickness. I can wound with my words. I can also heal. We all have that power. What i like about my eclectic path is that it takes me everywhere. Its still acceptable to be magical and whimsical. To believe in wishes. Prayers.  Spells. Love. I have a guy i dont get to see alot. I miss him so much sometimes it hurts. But the time we do spend together is nothing short of perfection that why should i have a right to complain? This is how i hacked my brain. I looked at the situation from an angle which i wouldn’t normally think of, a thinking strategy i dont often use. Instead of being paranoid he’s mad at me or some would say cheating but my relationship is ok in that department.  He’s a full time dad. Anyway enough about him. Hes a great muse. Let your entity shine a light on you. If you’re over weight go on a diet work out and once spring comes you’ll have no excuse not to be active.  If you accomplish one thing a day, from taking a shower to mowing the lawn to working on a creative outlet you have achived something. Just think if i free write like this what material will erupt? I hate everything I’ve ever written it makes me cringe. Its the self doubt of the artist.  And everyone is an artist. If you have a trade you are a master artisan. If you are kind to people you are an artist of good vibes. They say we cant control what happens to us but we can choose how we react. For a borderline we react. We fly off the handle. I never thought much about that saying but it sounds witchy. Maybe all women are witches.  We need to take our power back. Some men are great but not the men we need to be great.  The men that are supposed to be making America great. I refuse to say again because it has never been what it is now.  But enough politics from me. Vote Bernie Sanders . Just kidding do what you want to do. Your politics do not affect me. So. Anyway.  Birds of Prey was awesome.

Part deuce.
Today was an odd day for me. I accomplished goals I’ve been putting off for months. I cleaned my room and decluttered my clothes. It took all day. I had asked friends to help me but would have turned 100 first so I prayed and set myself on completing this task. Of course my body aches and on top of it I haven’t heard from my boyfriend all day. I asked him to take me to my place. I got mad at him for ignoring me as borderlines do and said you could have said you didn’t want to take me instead of ignoring me. Wish I could take that back because now I’m more worried than mad. I didn’t initially clean to get my mind off it but it sure helped my self esteem. Now I just need to start a Poshmark. I decided I didn’t need therapy today. I took a shower as soon as I woke up and set out on not being glued to the TV or guilt ridden that I’m not watching gamers on YouTube for 8 hours straight with my son. I fed him made sure he had whatever he needed and followed through with my goal. I don’t care if your goal was combing your hair or finishing a business proposal just finish what you start.

Story time

There was a time where I thought I’d never walk without my cane again. Standing up without my cane seemed like a pipe dream. In my dreams I would always be walking. I’d be flying too. Only to wake up and reach for my cane to walk a foot to the bathroom. At first I couldn’t even use the bathroom on my own because of my tremors. Mom would help me and cry I am sure. 5 years later and here I am. Not only standing up on my own but walking a mile without stopping. I used to have panic attacks just thinking about crossing a busy street. And now I can cross the road with great ease. Don’t even have to hold my breathe. Breathe Beth. Breathe. Some things take time. When I lost the ability to be a normal human who walked and talked like any other person I felt like a burden. Too much work for my loved ones and the world at large. Someone who the medical field shunned and who no one wanted to be around. I wanted to be Someone who blended in instead of standing out and someone who people wouldn’t feel sorry for just by looking at them. That’s all I really wanted. Then. Eventually. To be loved. Oh yeah. And to be able to apply liquid eye liner without gouging my eye. But back to being loved. I wanted To be loved for me flaws and all. When I first met my boyfriend I looked like the picture on the right. Bent over. Hand on cane. Scared shitless to be alive. Scared to walk. Scared to talk without a hearty stutter and hyperventilating. Every step I took felt like I was walking on quicksand or shards of glass. I used to compare myself to the OG little mermaid. Then I would watch the movie and sing part of your world and cry at the thought of never being able to dance with a partner or go to a gathering. My legs would buckle and I fell more times than I can count. I imagine the pain from those falls are still there. He accepted me and saw past my temporary setback and saw my soul. He loved me. And saw potential in me. He believed that i would get better but if I didn’t get better he’d love me still. As I walked home today my right hip started hurting. But I didn’t give up or call my mom to pick me up. As much as I am known sonomously for being doom and gloom too old to be emo chick I really have come a long way and have found that no matter how hard things get I can get through it. I don’t have to use drugs and I don’t have to self harm. I feel. I let myself feel. Then I release. Thanks mom for being there for me when I needed you the most. I couldn’t have done it without you. And even though you’re not on social thanks to my bf for showing me what It feels like to be loved. For me. No front. No mask. No showmanship. Just me. As I am


DC nerd no regrets

When I was younger I related alot to Harley Quinn. Her madness. Her sense of humor, her unconditional love for Joker and her appreciation of eccentric personalities. She loves acrobats and the child like magic that a circus holds. Her codependent nature and need within the depths of her soul to be loved. She was all my excitement and all my energy that I had bottled up only  to bury deep within my subconscious in fear of being classified as a hopeless looney toon. Now that I am older I resonate more with Poison Ivy. Her introverted nature, her love of nature and plants and the mentality that plants hold great healing power. Her confidence and unwavering unapologetic ability to say I’m not going to fit in. And that’s OK. Her love of using pheromones to lure a male victim in only to turn them into houseplants. No. I have not turned any ex boyfriends into houseplants. They all went off and found the love of their life married happily ever after. Remember that movie where women would date a guy because he was notorious for being the last guy women dated before they found their soul mate? I’m the female version of that story. But here’s the plot twist. I found mine. We have our ups and downs but if we didn’t we wouldn’t be human. I guess that’s what life does to us. Turns us into three dimensional heroes and villains. I think I’ve been both.


The written word is like weapons we hold in our wrists. The pen is mightier than the sword so don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. We have the power to succumb or overcome. Destroy or lift up. Weigh your words wisely because they are your legacy. Be remembered for your kindness and vulgarity in equal measures.

Poem #3

My requiem of misery, you have to see it to believe, til now it had been unforeseen, tales of terror and undeniable woe, will have to change the names so nobody goes loco, lullaby shadows shower and quake, i may be too bad even for my own sake, the dark arts dressed up as ginger bread houses, a soul blackened til Hunter green dance in unison in linen blouses, tumultuous turmoil on bended knee confrontation my meditation like the Bee’s knees, love my only medication til my heart bleeds, a transmorgification tick tocking away from exasperation til it bursts in celebratory elation


Bring my eyes over to me so I can see your sincerity

bring my heart beat near my chest so I can know that this will last

Bring my smile near my face because I misplaced it in another place.

A place in time where smiles were free like our first dates when we were happy.

Bring my soul back to me because I cannot scream with it lurking beside me.

Bring my fingers where I can touch because once your touch was more than enough

bring this promise to my door I can’t wait forever I just can’t wait anymore