Tag: Big Thoughts

Circe

I know you’ve heard what you think is my story.
I hear the voices on the winds,
the echoes of fear in your voice.

That’s not my story.
That’s his.

Not that you have no reason to fear, not that I do not wield a power that may destroy you.

He would come to my house without invitation.
Against all advice.
Escape and name me the villain.

My power is not to turn people into pigs.
It is to reveal their true form.
It’s not my fault that is who they are.

So if you choose to invade my territory.
Dominate me in my own space.
You have been warned.

I am a practical creature and pork is a sweet meat.

The View From Here is Frightening, But I Don’t Have to Look

Realizing we finally found the eye of the storm.
Safety, peace, pleasantness even
all collected in this shared life

learning each other’s languages
supporting each other’s dreams
setting up healthy boundaries

Setting up life as cooperative separates
rather than a multiheaded beast


We can acknowledge the storm
The apocalypse really
raging outside
We don’t have to invite it in.

We deserve this safety
We deserve this peace

Security will have to wait until the storm passes
We will face the thick of it again
Go out in the storm
but not yet

And when we go, it will be with a new confidence
we found peace for ourselves
in the eye of the storm

Harbingers

Here there be dragons
When there is nothing left to lose,
the dragons come and burn it all down

Dragons are change
Bringers of the apocalypse
Harbingers of the changing of the cosmic guard

The dragons come and the fires burn
Hubris burns so bright
The empowered in their haughty towers
Look down on us no more.

The humble in their steady way
Hear the noise and wonder
What new horror will replace the old

Those close to the ground
Will toil and suffer as they always have
The seeded ash will sprout anew
The ambitious will scramble
New towers will be built

Things will go as they always have
And the dragons will come again.

OOps I Wasn’t Supposed to Post That Here

I declined to join your secret club.
I’ve been in those before.
Secrets have killed me more than once,
I’d like something more.
Secret clubs, and secret rooms, and secret codes and then,
secret attacks behind your back and round and round again.


Don’t trust me with your secrets, your rumors and your lies,
I’m often immune to glamour and will see through your disguise.

Trust me with your truths
those things I understand,
Your calibration of discretion,
Is how I’ll play my hand.
I’d rather have connection, than join an exclusive club.
You can keep your secrets, They’re the hindrance of love.

Choosing a New Legacy

I am feral, I am fae
I culturally reject the legacy I was handed
The god
The land
The blood
The violence

I reject the Patriarchy
I reject supremacy of all kinds
I reject my place in the colonial kingdom

I accept
As fully as I can
my racist, misogynist, abelist
history and personal actions
I can believe in my intentions
but they do not matter
the impact of me not rejecting the white god sooner
will always be mine to bear

And I do not deserve the luxury of a
woe is me.
I do not want it anyway,
My place in the world was handed to me
without my consent,
just like everyone else.

If not woe then what?
Who has time for woe
when we all must be confined in this space and time
Why must I choose to swim upstream?
The trip is so hard and everything is against me.

I want to get to the root
my root
find the poison in my well
so I quit
and work to quit
over and over again

Sending it downstream

Bladder Control

Spend so much time
Dancing around
Shuffling foot to foot
Feeling the feelings bladder swell
Pressure inching, ratcheting up, up


Left scanning
Searching acceptable release
Not safe to scream


The bladder’s volume escalates
Soon it’s all that can be heard
While also not making a sound


Nothing gets through the barrier
Distracted presence
Rude, shocking


Dancing in place
no I don’t have to pee
Need to escape
Need to say the things that
Can’t be said


Swallow
Swallow
Run to the car
Cry.

Stretch Marks

I didn’t know until I went there
I didn’t understand
I had disturbing preconceptions

That now I’m searching for ways not to turn into self loathing
I want my stretch marks to witness my growth
Not tattoo my shame

I want to wear them visibly so I can speak
about how wrong I was
visible my growth
I earned these scars

Oh, I used to be different, see?

Fairy’s Lament

the magic didn’t happen

not this year

the fairy dust supplies have run dry

when told of the situation

the decision was made

to let the magic die

the seeds planted over all these years
never took root

when the efforts stopped the magic did too

even frogs will leave the dry well

there was no clapping

no cheering

and now the husk of all that dreaming

can blow away

disappear

Afterthoughts Before

You don’t owe me anything,
Though you left before I was ready.

My affection for you does not change,
My admiration of your accomplishments is steady and solid,
And some of your accomplishments are just being who you are.

Your work left unfinished,
Your house unattended,
Echoes where you once stood,
Hopes left as hope,
Dreams dissipated unanchored,
Somedays left for another life.

This chapter has ended and I go on and you do not.
You still don’t owe me anything.
Thank you for sharing the ride while you were here.

Two Truths and a Lie

My depression is not depression
it’s anger.
Notice the difference now.
You can’t medicated away anger.
I Refuse to die for it, too.

Refuse to give up because I might hurt someone’s feelings or sensibilities.
Refuse to give up after coming so far.
Refuse to give ground on my truth.
If my truth is based in lies?
Why is that??

Certainly not for me.
Lies are never efficient.

People forget lies might change a story,
but not the evidence.
Lies leave evidence, too.

If you lied to me and I believed you,
you might have forgotten the truth.
Repurposed it,
built over everything that was
so no one would ever find it.

That’s not usually what happens though.
Now that I believe you,
you are left with that gap in our stories.
Two truths and a lie.
The burden of that gap lies with the liar.
The believer doesn’t know it’s there.
Though the evidence, the reality
affects them both.

This burden, this gap, becomes a place that can no longer stand
spotlight of scrutiny.
It grows stagnant, poisonous.
It’s directional existence will put a wedge between us.
A place we cannot go.
For a reason only the liar knows.

There will be evidence for the believer,
The changed subject,
change of mood, change of plan.
They will see the touchy subject,
and often avoid it out of convenience, too.
But it doesn’t go away.

Even if I believe you,
the lie is still a lie.
It will poison our relationship, but not me.
It will poison your wellbeing, but not mine,
except that your wellbeing affects mine.

Me wanting to help you deal with suffering you caused yourself,
by lying,
that compassion, that love,
that you have to keep at arms length to protect the lie.
The secret, I, who believes you cannot see,
but clearly you suffer from.

Your panic at my kindness will blindside me.
Your shift from adoration to contempt will become permanent.
You will blame me for believing you,
more than you blame yourself for lying.

And I will just witness. All. This. Pain.