Lavender blues

 

I’ve been fasting. I’ve been taking herbs. I’ve been singing mantra. I read and write and light beeswax candles over crystals. I cry. 

Certain people would never treat me so badly. Yet she did. I could just stare and freeze when she got into a fist fight with a homeless woman in the subway and I screamed for cops…

The road rage and the constant unsatisfaction that could never be satisfied it was sad. And I tried to relieve and lull and feed. We loved each other I loved her… she started to really scare me.

My HVAC system, freezer, dishwasher, and water heater all die on the same day.

I remember to speak up when I’m uncomfortable. 

I did about her to everyone. Just as I’m sure she’s tried to make me look ugly and stupid… They asked and I said it. I spoke from my throat chakra from the rooftops. I really told the truth. Everyone’s shocked at what a scary person she is. 

That’s not on me, all I could do was stare and be afraid. Covering her belongings in salt that Reyna gave me from Topanga. 

But I acknowledge my responsibility to help her, to care to love to nourish so she can have those skills, love she never had to plump her face and hold her heart. I really did love her still do.

But there’s no resolution or compassion, or pragmatic solution there. She hurt me and left me to cry on toilets with diarrhea praying to angels for her love to come back. I was left with an obvious one sided decision to leave. And here I am…

I spoke the truth and owned it. But that’s not awesome, none of it is. I was left with the guilt of someone’s awful behavior AND faced with never being loved by them (loved) again. Oh it will be better I promise, better is coming to you. Where? When? My self esteem was toast after her insults.

I cried into the lawn and the little yellow daisies remembering the care my grandmother had for me in the garden.

She’s here, but she’s not, the person who shared my bed and honey tea.

I felt her hand in me, I heard her say I love you slow…. So what’s the truth? Her laughing at me and my body.

She loves me she loves me she loves me….. but she ripped me open maliciously. Then laughed as all my flaws were pointed out to hurt me and I don’t know why.

Yes. 

I let that happen. Not for very long, but still… that… there’s that 

Existential kink….

I wanted to be loved and fucked, then she tried to wreck my brain. Break it apart.My body, my eye sight, my eyes. My breasts. Insults, laughing. Put downs, hurting always hurting….. and why?

I realize I might be unable to be sexually attracted to healthy people.

Because of my background, body, face idk, homosexuality certainly doesn’t help. 

If I never get laid again I will work in the garden and have friends. I will make pots. She has my heart and now it’s broken.

Just on the floor, will it ever be picked up?

I want to be loved and cherished and fucked and kissed all over. I want a ring and a family who knows who I am. I am not a victim, I am not a pouring vessel of constant love and understanding without wisdom of when I’ve had enough or are hip to someone’s abuse trickery.

I want visibility and real presence. 

I want to be so wanted. Kiss me fuck me want me show me off like I am worth what I am for just being me. I will be Someone who loves all of them and everyone will know it, when there is a them…if there ever is again. But I am ugly and stupid and whatever else she told me as I was alone in New York. 

“ what’s the matter with you?” I couldn’t zip my backpack right. I was lost my eyesight so bad. I cried and she was not there for me.

My round face my body now so ugly so unwanted…. Is it true?

No. She wanted me desperately back. I need you. I want you in my life you are amazing.

But then she hurt me so badly and the mind cycle goes back…. No.

Why did she keep thinking she could treat me so badly and that I would snap back like new over and over again? Priming me stretching me until my brain broke open to hold all of her inner turmoil and torture…..

Health and peace. I pray.

My hands are up in the air.