Life Savers

These are my six life savers
I take them each night
without shame
without fear of judgement
out in the open
not hidden in the bathroom
or the closet
two bring me sleep
two bring me alive
two bring me through
all six allow me to breathe
day in and day out

I supplement these life savers
with meditation
and mindfulness
with yoga
and essential oils
with nature and toes in dirt
with lungs filled with fresh crisp air
with giggles of my children
and kisses from my love
with words that bleed
from my fingertips to the page
these are my six life savers

#noshame #mytruth #thestruggleisreal #depression #anxiety #grief #insomnia #ptsd #mooddisorder #bipolar #breathe #everydamnday #transparent #authentic #connection

bluetooth connections from the grave

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I pull open the car door. Climb in. All the soft blurred in shape lines of my body settle into the soft worn blurred in shape contours of the leather seat. Feel the cold steel metal of the key in my hand as I slide it into the ignition, and turn. The machine stretches and yawns and let’s out a low rumble as it awakens and comes to life.

I sit for a moment in the silent cocoon of the space. Feeling the car stretch and shake out all its limbs. Feeling the vibration of the engine as it pulsates through metal and plastic and leather and skin and muscle and bone.

Silently, and without hesitation, phone and car reach out and search for each other. Mysteriously connecting over the airwaves. Desperate to feel the fingertip touch of current and connection. A heartbeat that allows them to communicate.

I’m sure I haven’t turned on the Bluetooth on my phone.

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fire breathing words

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That feeling you get when your first story starts forming in your head. In your heart. In your body.

The words stream across your mind like a blurry old silent black & white film reel when you close your eyes. You feel sounds become words. Dissociated at first. No order. Just whizzing by like the shots of machine gun fire. Random words working hard to string together and form into cohesive thoughts.

Letters flowing through your veins. Mixing with your oxygen your blood your plasma your marrow your tears your saliva. Picking up tissue and cells along the way. Pieces of you. Ripping them away from you.

Colliding. Combining. Dividing. Multiplying.

Words that bring up feelings that bring up more words. More feelings.

Memories. Whispers. Screams. Tears. Truths.

Colliding. Combining. Dividing. Multiplying.

Senseless at first. Growing bolder and stronger and louder. Taking on a life of their own. Escaping your body through your breath your pores your sweat. Oozing.

Breathing words like breathing fire. Heat and flames. Igniting. Searing.

Swirling. Breathing. Multiplying. Screaming. Burning. Fighting.

Forcing their way to the page. Fighting for their life. For their chance to tell their story.

connection, authenticity, vulnerability…oh my!

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I am a writer who lost my voice. What’s a writer with no voice? A tortured soul. An affliction. Like a swimmer who has lost a lung. A pianist who’s lost his hands. Like a singer whose vocal chords have been severed.

The craft was lost. The lifeline cut. The music silenced.

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surrendering to grief

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Today I am a failure

I’m failing at being a wife
I’m failing at being a mother
I’m failing at being a friend and a lover
I’m failing at saying what I want
I’m failing at asking for what I need
I’m failing at grieving
I’m failing at mourning

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mirage

Reflections-3

You came to me last night
I saw you there
I felt your warmth
Only I didn’t

I breathed in your familiar scent
I held your smooth delicate hand
I caressed your porcelain soft cheek
Only I didn’t

I smiled into your sparkling eyes
I heard you breathe out my name, the way a mother does
I breathed in the sound of the rasp in your voice
Only I didn’t

Only I didn’t
I remembered you were dead
You were there when I awoke
Only you weren’t