Dry Skin

Try to be okay with the storm. Home feels to far away. Afternoon tutoring turned out to be a waste. Sat there crumbling. I don't have words to offer right now. I keep looking up wondering if someone will take me away. I don't know how to be here.

My body is stiff and sore from under use. Grey colors the day and my skin doesn't fit right. Depression comes out to play and I'm not ready to pay. Give me an off switch. I'd take any way out on days like this.

After Math

Sometimes guilt sneaks in over at Borderline, over here. I hate coloring over all the moments that work: the happy, the good, the calm, the blessedly easy moments with: anger, frustration, tears, or complaints. I worry that I come across as a one dimensional diagram. I worry that I'm all take and no give. That I hit the wrong note, that I don't make it easy to love, that I hide away part of the richness of Borderline. Part of the richness of me.  

The music changes and my skin finds just a moment to breath, and for a moment, for a time, for now - it doesn't matter that I'm over tired, doesn't matter that I've got two hours of tutoring tonight or a math exam I'm not really ready for tomorrow. It doesn't matter that I felt ugly today. Doesn't matter that I feel like I was acting ugly today. The music sinks in and winds me down. 90 degree spins left and right on my computer chair as my shoulders roll. Bliss finds me even as my nose stings raw from blowing. My lips chapped red and green, icing will do that you see. My eyes hot and dry. Yet bliss still finds me. The bliss still takes me away, and the gift of knowing that one day I'm going to be so much more then okay rubs the stiffness out of my neck. 

I haven't found a way to bottle this feeling, it doesn't take kindly to traps but oh, oh oh oh, Yes. It's dancing on the sand dunes at Southport, it's looking over the rolling green while walking the Swiss Alps, it's my mother commenting in amazement about the landscape in somewhere USA, it's laying in green grass and watching clouds, it's the first bite of pineapple and that kiss, it's hot water and a cool breeze, it's yellow bed happiness, it's jumping into the lake at first light. . . it's so many moments captured, and triggered by acceptance and letting the music in. Fluttering across my flushed skin, slowly making room for a cool breeze. 

I hit a snap today, I burned up, burned bright and had so much trouble regulating. My brain was pounding, boldfaced, underlined, questioning how I was going to deal with all the emotions. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't 'good.'  Tuning into this moment of bliss, of calm, of connectedness - was just the other side of Borderline.

My brain isn't trying to eat me, not always - and sometime I'd swear it's a gift. In this moment I choose to let it be a gift. In other moments I might scream and call it a curse. Slowly I start to learn it, learn how to make it work for me, one day I'll love it.  

Honor your brain, honor the borderline, and when you can, chose the gift. 

Always love, 

K

Numb

There are only so many times I can restart my brain with you. There are only so many times I can try again. My brain is humming, the last of the sick masks most of the rage. My limbs are heavy and feeling broken. There are only so many times I can sit there and try to decode the scribbles, curves and amplitude.

I can hope that tomorrow will be kind. I can pray for love, for time, for understanding. Today I'm just going to fade to gray. Shake it out, shape up and suck in air hoping it will fill the gaps.

Burn. Fly. Mend. Drop.

Take me by the hand, spin me around the dance floor and love me anyway. Maybe when I grow up I'll be more like you.  I miss maybes, and spinning on green grass as the sky loved me true. Tart sweet stinging lips, the best treat after a long day used to be you. Tattered memories pinned to the burning board. Dear K whoever you are in 10 years I pray to god you love her anyway.

Love her good.

K

For a Cookie

I'll be your friend for a cookie. I'll give you all my cake if this lab report was done. I don't have the energy for this dance right now. My right hand is mysteriously numb. My lips and noes are chapped. Anger lashing down and I tune out. Not present enough to give a fuck. This trip is just building it all up.


fuck

Smash the screen, hips swing and the lack of leg room makes me want to lash out at someone. I can't connect to the disconnect. Times run out. I've got to go ...

I'm fine or fire?

I'm running and I'm crying and it's okay. The beat sneaks in and wraps me up. The lyrics slip in and gag the screaming. The louder the music the bigger the disconnect. So just lose it. Please tell me why I'm here again? I should be running down to grab my lunch. Finding away to plug in to tutoring so I don't have to sit in class and see another green 74% scrawled atop of my exam.

I've lost the beat. I can't get the volume loud enough. So this sad attempt to beat out the blood and bile from the back of my throat has just left made it spin harder. The poet slams down love. Something fierce as I turn tune in joy on the radio. Hoping to find the shining light  that scares away the monsters of doubt.

The dragon will be slayed, the spin warped into expression. This to shall fucking well pass. Till then I pound on my heart begging it to love me anyway.

At least do that much, something has to sooth the fire.

- K