Going in for dose 2 of Moderna today against my better judgment. Dose 1 made my blood pressure drop really low, my heart has been struggling to pump blood throughout my body (why I’ve been feeling so cold) because my heart is struggling to circulate (it’s only caring about my main organs) – oh wait – not dying yet. Or am I? 🤔
Not gonna lie, I’m freaking out in the most calm way. Through crying. More stress my petite heart does not need.
I’m scared.
I’m alone.
All alone.
Gonna die naked on the street outta pure madness.
I’m losing me mind.
And my heart is weak.
I just wanted to be somebody’s favorite just once in my life.
Actually, I’ve recently learned how to take a “portrait photo” (where the background is blurry) and Poe has his eye on me.
Ignore the freckles, kisses from the Sun.
They don’t feel like kisses though, they feel like radiation burns because that’s what they are, so please keep Vampy in the shade.
And anyway, you’re not supposed to take a portrait in “selfie mode” but I’m sick to fuck of following rules.
I’m that program in the Matrix doing what it’s not suppose to be doing, that’s why big bro keeps putting the fucking Berlin iron fucking wall up on me.
1984 is now and I am being driven mad out of me mind dying in the street kind of madness
I get to start using the term “homicidal” if I ever answer my therapist call again.
Because I’m so ready for the cops to knock on my door and take me away to the funny farm without my permission.
Sometimes I race up to the clouds To find What life is all about But then I remember My place is a head full of doubt And back down To the ground I do shout
“What this WHITE WOMAN”… “just another WHITE WOMAN” (why does he keep screaming about my skin color)?“You spilled all that shit out as if I’m supposed to give a fuck” (wait, what? You’re the one private messaging ME to “get to know me”. I guess you couldn’t see past my mental illness or color though)… So black and brown people don’t care about white people’s mental health according to Chris. He speaks for All Colored race… Doesn’t care “What we (white peope) think, feel, or say”… You still supporting his blog? 🤔
“Self-centered pieces of shit”- you realize he’s talking about white people, right? Then I’m called a bitch.
You still supporting this racist piece of fucking shit???
WHERE THE BLOGGERS AT?? HAD THIS BEEN REVERSED, I’D BEEN CRUCIFIED!!!
HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH. RACISM EXISTS IN 2021 AGAINST WHITE PEOPLE!!!
This way to sorrow This way to despair This way to desolation This way to nobody cares
Was that your shadow leaping over my dream? What were you thinking while abandoning me?
The system is rigged everywhere Just leave me where I fell
The world is a drainpipe There’s not enough pills to gaslight It’s a battlehill And you make me ill
Was your vein not thick with poison Blood curdled and coagulated I pulled out every thorn Your heart turned into a floodgate
I need 1 sun-moon cycle where I’m not disturbed 24 hours of peace preferred
How easy he would come to me But what would he find? Scars and bits of broken pieces Unfiltered creases The ugly kind?
I don’t care about your joyrides Or do I?
What will I be known for? How I died? Suicide? But never the reasons for why I cried?
Dear Mother,
You only taught me how to suffer
Didn’t I write words of worth When you were nothing more than a speck of dust When any sun would bring you dirt I took the pain and made it work When all the world thought you a jerk I drank the blood and made you smirk When you were nothing on this on this earth I turned your no into a must
Drowning on rage Too much air in this cage
Warning signs were posted I suppose they go ignored He was a Japanese suicide forest And hope unexplored
How much times passes while you collate? Working around the second hand What kills the ache? Was it your best move? Or the worse you’ll ever make?
Harvest my disgust It’s fully ripened Polish off the dust You’ll find a diamond
I posted this poem as a photo in my Instagram story and someone immediately replied “yes” which implied he liked the poem but then it dawned on me that people don’t realize how original my content is, as I just COINED the term/phase.
It has never been written or said before (to my knowledge). But the majority of people who post on Instagram plagiarize, especially those who like to post a pretty photo with a saying that doesn’t belong to them and it’s not in quotation marks or anything. Welp. So I replied to him that it was an original term that I just wrote and he said he’d “buy it” LOL.
But, it is a name I have given my love, for he stems from the bowels of hell, now known as “The Below”. Hell has a new name and he is Lord of The Below.
I coined the term/phrase Lord of Below. It’s also another way to describe depression. Which I often write about. I’m deep below currently in fact, hence the poem.
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Something I learned in college when I was studying psychology, year after year after year (and then I earned my science degree and loads of debt. Knowledge is expensive. Here’s some free).
Suicides always come in 3 and the more popular a person is who dies by suicide, the more suicides will occur or be triggered.
And that stuck with me. Because my best friend died by suicide. But two months before she died her first boyfriend and the first guy she ever kissed died by suicide and they are buried near each other. Several years after they died, her mom died by suicide. Now all three are dead and buried near each other in the cemetery (mom and daughter side to side – fucking gut me).
“Suicide comes in three”.
But then think about how the Bible is brainwashed onto loads of the population and we are lovebombed with Christianity as young children; one story they shame us with is the story of Judas and suicide. The narcissist wants your money so bad be it via porn or religion, that they will make you believe by gaslighting your existence, that dying by suicide is actually criminal in the afterlife.
GET IN THE FUCKING SEA
These narcissist will destroy everything about your reality and take your money while doing so. They have no remorse. They live rent free.
We’re slaves to the 1%. Life is a mental torture prison. I want out.
So I think about death and dying by suicide, every second of the day, every breath I take.
But then there’s an actual fear of dying.
It’s complicated.
And just because someone is always “struggling with depression”, doesn’t mean they can’t “die by suicide”.
I struggle with the same mental illness that many I have loved or respected in life have died by. Including my best friend.
I have hesitation marks all over my veins. I’m glad you think my gloves are pretty (no really I do). But underneath, scars are ugly. But which scars am I talking about? The deep rooted or physical ones?
I’ve been wanting to get some words by Gavin Rossdale (in his handwriting) tattooed over my arm, but the world has been shut down, I haven’t been able to get to any gigs, and the last gig that I attended on my birthday, I completely forgot to ask him when I was in front of him because, hormones. *rolls eyes*
I have talked about this shit on Twitter tagging him, it’s not the first time I’ve talked about the scars on my arm. Or wanting the tat, with his lyrics, over or covering some or all of the scars/ hesitation marks. Trent had it right. And I have ‘Hesitation Marks’ by Nine Inch Nails on vinyl, because I am a fucking Nine Inch Nails whore and Trent Reznor is the only dude I’ve ever asked to marry me, hello.
I mean I think I’m bad around Gavin Rossdale but I think that I might actually cry or pee if I ever met Trent Reznor. We’ve had our concert moments tho. And the NIN archives have our online thangs. Like, that time message boards existed and Trent Reznor actually talked to his fans and I submitted a question to him asking him if he would marry me along with the musical questions and no, he did not say no. Or yes. He was flattered. And answered my music questions. Anyhoo. Nothing lasts on the internet forever unless you are Trent Reznor – who likes to control the “leaks” of his music. Sometimes he does this by leaving a drive in a bathroom.
So I just had to stop what I was doing because my cat made me have a mental breakdown and having a cat and dog in an apartment is the exact definition of insanity and if they don’t find a new home, they’re going to become victims.
I’m so homicidal and suicidal, I don’t want anything around me. I would rather jump off a fucking bridge, than to have to deal with my cat or dog ever again.
And this isn’t a startling revelation, it’s been building up for over three years of us living here in this fucking hellzone hostile environment that I’m not going to be able to escape from anytime soon. Circumstance has ruined us. And I lost my service dog after my giant neighbor decided to chase my dog all over the apartment complex parking lot. He hasn’t been the same since and I can’t fucking deal with him anymore.
They aren’t my companions anymore and they haven’t been my companion in years, they are fucking nightmares and I’m living in it day in and day out and I am at my wit’s end, like, I need some peace and quiet.
This isn’t what I signed up for. My muscle and bones are beginning to fail me (aging yay), my doctor has issued me a fucking cane, and my pets won’t stay out from under my feet. At first, I didn’t want them scared of my cane but maybe they need to fear it.
God forbid I ever wanna dash to the bathroom. Or sleep. Or take a nice, quiet bath.
Whatever they’ve turned into is the exact opposite of what I need. I’ve disconnected. Maybe this is part of dying or because my mother is an unnurturing bitch BUT all I know is my peace of mind has been destroyed. And now they are my enemies. Day in, day out.
I could avoid these meltdowns if I were alone (like really fucking alone) or had a normal dog and cat. That’s not a dog or cat.
I can’t even take my dog for a walk anymore because he’s scared to go outside, imagine not even being able to take your dog outside anymore. I mean it’s driving me literally fucking mad, it’s driving me homicidal, people are fucking destroying things that I love and I don’t want anything anymore because what the fuck. Fuck everything.
What part of, I JUST WANT PEACE AND QUIET AND TO WRITE, is hard to understand????
Jesus Christ, it was 3:30 in the morning. I can’t even get it then. I need compromise. And animals that are fucking domesticated.
My cat now tears up everything she touches. Loves to dash out under my feet. Screams really loud if her food bowl is near empty. I’m not exaggerating, she has made me and my dog jump up from sleep several times and I’m a war vet. I have to deeply, severely medicate to get any sleep at all, if I’m lucky.
I’m not allowed to shut any of the doors in the house or my cat goes crazy. She thinks everything is hers. She may be the definition of evil. She’s making me fucking primal.
And yes my doctor knows all this. He knows I’m growing SICKER with every breath. Which is why he continues to write me a prescription. But you can lead a horse to water, you just can’t make him drink it.
I know exactly how Chris Cornell felt, when his life was wrapped around his belt and he was pushing that button on that app, to make the lights go on and off, yeah?
And this was directly after a sold out show.
Love isn’t enough. There’s just not enough love in the world. For this reality. This mental, torture prison that we are a slave to. There’s not enough REAL people in the world. Too many monsters. Too much narcissism. Too much lying. Too much fakery. Too much slavery. Suicide says, “too much”. Let the records show.
Just a pinprick can send me into fits of homicidal and suicidal rage, followed by the guilt of existence and crying. Mood swings. It’s odd tho, the thing I likely need the most is a hug to calm me down. I don’t have a safe place.
I don’t have a safe place anywhere, anymore. Or peace of mind. And my ride is down until I save for repairs. But I don’t have a dime to save because everything is going to the cost of living. Rent increase starts next month. Even though all the amenities have been closed down since April of last year when the pandemic started.
Too much.
Every day alive is a crucifixion living with depression, awoke and in a world of gaslighting, psychopathic demons with zero remorse for the things they say or do. But now if I kill a spider because I’m scared of it, I cry.
I’m not even a number. People die and disappear forever. No tomb to erode over time. Poof. Like atoms popping into and out of existence.
Too much.
It’s a pink crystal for health and healing but I can’t find a quiet zone anywhere, at any time, to meditate. Manic.
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No matter what step I take, it’s always the wrong one.
I never had a proper upbringing, I guess I won’t have a fucking honorable death either will I?
I’d be lucky to have 7 people attend my funeral (like dear Edgar A. Poe) and I guarantee 5 of em’ will be my enemies there to celebrate my death and piss on me.
It’s a good thing I’m going to fucking drown myself in the sea.
Problem solved. And 1 mysterious death in bound.
Checkmate.
This time, I AM GHOSTING YOU.
Scouting an old cemetery in Florida yesterdayWent exploring an old cemetery yesterday in an attempt to do an upcoming cosplay shoot. It took my dad dying for me to learn that not everybody gets a tomb or a grave. 👍
I’m going through some heavy shit right now (alone and during a pandemic) so if you’re out there punishing me… 👎👎
It’s not even called a cemetery, it’s called a mount (a hill). I walked up that mount yesterday looking at tombs that have been destroyed with time and hurricanes, some abandoned and others well kept.
I don’t know why I assumed that everyone got a tomb when they died, but they don’t. Ash become many in the wind.
I still have a lot to learn about death. Realizing my dad wasn’t going to get a tomb after how he died was a big fucking light bulb.
My dad had been dead for days before he was found and you don’t know what that sort of information does to a human being.
And then reading how Edgar Allan Poe’s families just tossed him in an unmarked grave in a fucking box ho ho ho.
So life sucks. Dying sucks. And death sucks too.
When I was a kid me and my grandmother would travel around and visit different cemeteries and look at the tombs, seeing entire famalies buried on the same day, and imaging how they must have died. Sometimes she would catch me in the hole of where someone had been buried but was moved due to racism and segregation which still occurs in Mississippi. She thought it weird but I liked the smell. I still like to wander cemeteries though, reading the tombs and visiting the dead.
But it seems being buried is for the rich. And eventually Earth isn’t even going to exist. It does my mind in.
You’re a slave, Neo.
I don’t have anybody to love me while I’m alive so why can I assume that there will be anybody to love me when I’m dead…
I don’t know if I can endure another X amount of years of existence being invisible or soley alive to pay bills and be nothing more than a toy or sex object.
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Take the air from where I breathe He will never notice me
There you go again Breaking my heart For just a thrill It’s overkill
A thousand times over You have made your point And I know I am never what you sought Though lurking I am aching where you haunt Through searching Though every tear was bought
Age of despair But like an ember I flare him up Because I care And I’ve no defense From getting burned everywhere
I was in alliance with ineptitude
Love is like the beginning and the end. Alpha omega. I love you. I’ll kill you. But I love you forever.
You look like you are dying Bu you are already dead
As above, so below My aura is here to glow
This great depression.
There will be no headstone No grave From life to dust I’m not okay (RIP daddy)
Where are you? In every molecule? The early morning dew? The air I breathe on lonely avenue?
Where are you? If not but in every dream I dream? Clinging to the in-between? Wondering if I can be seen?
All God is woe.
My bed is overrated.
I don’t know where to begin so I’d rather not start at all…
Where have the best years of my life gone
At 26,000 light-years away, it’s the closest we’ve ever been- And if regret is a singularity, it’s finally creeping in (re: black hole)
I got cigarette burns on my skin Black holes where he’s been There’s cold creeping in A hundred reasons why I sin
You’re just her whipping boy You’re a tool You want to be her toy You’re a fool
I know not what holds him here I am a dry sponge, brittle The way time taunts me Like I am little
Give me a veil Let’s rest in hell
I got secrets that would disown me The way he’s unholy Still that’s my only
I wish Sagittarius A* would put on his parking breaks Throw me into another galaxy if that’s what it takes
I am a living statue To darkness, his bride (Well that’s a lie) Still isn’t he by my side?
It’s so dark on the inside Maybe why I cry
Banned under the same sunbeam From things I’ve seen Those things I’ve seen are haunting me
Take away the ray Take away the ray It’s burning
Chained to existence Wishing I didn’t remember you That’s coming too I won’t remember who
My eyes are sunspots Turning grey From things you say
Married to hopelessness Decay Mourning Sorrow Despair Isolation Loneliness Quantum confusion Heartache Wilderness Wonder Beauty Longing Truthfulness Purity Humanity All entities The air we breathe The hope we seek The light we keep
She built an empire on a pyramid scheme. She’s an evil queen.
The world can burn for all I care.
Sometimes Even under soft moons Or enduring high noons There will be casualties of war
And even when I face doom And circling is his tomb I believe there is love within his core
He’s been charged with possession of stolen property; my heart.
In the beginning there was nothingness. Now in the end, nothing is.
The only lines I cross are rhyme.
You are the cold emptiness of space Absolute zero You are the reason I lay in waste You’re not a hero
Come to me By frothy sea Shine your light I fancy thee
I was born into confusion Believe this, believe that It’s all delusion Best theory or illusion
I’m so much better than that flock of shit you summon Your mouth is the opposite direction I am running Your lies only come by the dozen You can knock but you can’t come in The darkness covers all but it’s my coven You ain’t welcome here again
You fool How desolate and awkward your thoughts lead you Rising plumes of gloom And I an idiot more To watch how hope you consume Bereft of pulse A necrophiliac You lifted pen then I had life But then you call creation strife But I died again after witnessing your child and wife
I’m a rib from your side A curse like Dracula’s bride Or Bonnie and Clyde I drink your love like cyanide Mixed with hope and rhyme
I am a dead sea A red sea A bad seed Devolving Unsolving Dead, see?
Death do us part
I’m tired of defending my actions against your lies From sunup to sundown I am wise I can see clearly with these eyes You can’t erase these cries
Loving him is a sentence to death row.
Why does my love always cause destructive tidal waves?
Did you know mountains were resting on your shoulder named envy? You let me crash on your soul in frenzy I’m dizzy Did you not need me?
Did you know moons were glowing with envy? Heartache cost not a penny But I got plenty If you need any?
Distance is The love we keep And even further The solution we seek
Life’s a waiting room Give my wound a womb Erase the moon Erect my tomb You are full doom
Now I owe you nothing Soul paid I’m reduced to hurting
Oh! What heavens I could reach with your arms!
Did you know when I look up I find you stargazing into my soul You know where every prayer goes
Dear Edgar, I can’t live without my love either But he is lost in the ether I can’t reach him neither
Edges of time his mind I go missing every time His rhyme Holding me to crime His line Wishing on a dime
Not everyone is created equal Like the ones who pull out fast then take it slow Those aren’t my kind of people
Sometimes, I climb into the ether where we met Heaven is risky but I took the step You feel like eternity in an instance Gotta keep our distance
A tired but clean peach. I recently started a new workout routine and you can watch my progress on Instagram. See the uncensored photos on my OF. I’ve just introduced nude digiart on my OF! I’m still in the top 50 so thank you! 💞
Thanks for checking out my work and for supporting Independent artist!
Not all the messages in my inbox say “fuck you”. Some DM’s are pretty good too.
Thought I’d take a break from the negativity and reflect on that.
I got some fans out there. They’re not all enemies.
Not everybody wants me to die.
FYI.
Got news about how my dad died today. My dad wasn’t in the best health but the COD was natural/ atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease (so likely heart attack or stroke).
We are still dealing with legal matters, I’m mourning (he died last month in December).
I’m hoping I can get a workout in today and tomorrow and Sunday so I don’t feel like I’ve lost an entire fucking week but like it’s been a rough one.
I hate being depressed and I don’t get people who are depressed who actually have energy, I think those people are just discontent or bored with their life. That isn’t depression. If you can run a marathon, you aren’t depressed honey. Fatigue is the number one symptom. Welp. And crying. And thoughts of dying. The thought of checking the mail is like climbing Mount Everest.
I’m not lazy, I’m depressed. Where is my 6 foot hole so I can crawl into it. But could you put a heating pad down there cuz the Earth is kind of cold? And some Pink Floyd tunes?
I haven’t actually been listening to a lot of music. Or playing my guitar. But I stare at my guitar daily and I won’t put it in its guitar case because I’m hoping that I’ll play it if it’s out and I’ll even try to convince myself that I want to play my guitar but like the energy just isn’t there and there’s no joy or desire for anything.
Tacos. I desire tacos.
And a foot slave. So, I’m going to be bringing some foot fetish stuff to my onlyfans as well as some nude digiart because I love making digiart but have never actually done nude digi art of myself so I got some new OF goals. I am still planning that big vampire cosplay shoot for my OF too.
Can’t rush the art but time is of the essence…
I’m really excited about making some kinky Foot videos.
I have the cutest little feet and now they have a purpose!
I also have a shoe fetish! I love buying shoes but I prefer being barefoot it’s a conundrum I know but now my shoes have a fucking purpose too especially in this quarantine where I can’t do anything with them!!
I’m not really interested in making like Tik Tok videos of me changing my outfits.
And I tried to go live on Twitch via my computer and the audio is all kinds of messed up and I don’t know why.
So, I’ll be attempting to do an Instagram livestream where I read some of my top poetry from my website.
I haven’t started hooping yet either and I’m kind of bummed about that.
I’ll try to keep making baby steps towards everything I want to do because I’ve been mourning pretty bad behind-the-scenes.
But I’m feeling so overwhelmed like I need to take two or three days to just not do anything at all.
I’m dealing with a lot of chemical imbalances in my body.
Hormones.
I’m moody. Edgy.
Is it normal to be this edgy after losing a parent? Me and my dad were pretty close but we also had a pretty rocky relationship.
It hadn’t really been rocky though, I mean since I was a kid honestly.
I just saw him not even 2 years ago for my birthday. But somewhere in between that time and him dying I got mad at him and pushed him away like I’ve done everybody else.
I had actually been contemplating emailing him for his birthday but he died just a few days before his birthday so I didn’t get a chance to make it right.
I still believe that 6 minute rare rainbow event was my dad saying goodbye. He was one hell of a B3 organ player, played guitar, sang. Gigging was his life. I got to see his final gig. His “great gig in the sky”. He loved Pink Floyd near as much as me. And I could play Pink Floyd as much as I wanted around my dad which is cool because parents and kids usually don’t listen to the same music so.
Sorry to put all this on you, I usually put it on my therapist.
Or, to the next person who wants to step on my precious fucking feet.
Welp. I am small but mighty. Like Napoleon (although I think I’m taller than he was). That’s a weird fact to remember about someone, so I had to go Google it just to see and it says he was 5’6″, which means we were actually the exact height. But, I am taller in boots and heels, to be fair.
Awe shit, and he’s a leo! No wonder I like him lol. Was he banned from France? What did he do? I can’t remember off hand!!
Has anyone ever been banned from your country? Or here in America? I don’t recall. It might be a blessing to get banned now. KIDDING. JOKES.
Isn’t New Zealand covid free or something? How do you get banned from a country? What country takes you in? What in the actual fuck. Could you imagine being banned from the planet? You’re no longer allowed on Earth, you’re going to Mars. Well fuck, when are we leaving?
Speaking of Mars, got my NASA boarding pass for the upcoming Mars landing!
My official boarding pass for the upcoming rover landing to Mars. It’s also nice that we’re starting to have more successes landing on Mars than we are failures. Which might account for the planned manned missions. Woit. Gotta stay alive for this. Right? This is the kind of roses that makes me really excited. Lifeeeee universe nerdy things 😍
Y’all know, I actually DID apply to live on Mars with Mars One in 2013 and there were over 200,000 people who applied and not only did I get a call back but I made it all the way into round 2 I made it through all of my medical examinations until I dropped out for personal reasons. But, Mars y’all. Mars. It’s a love of mine. And I did lots of interviews when I was in the running! I was actually a candidate to live on Mars. I had folks laughing til they saw me on the news and in the paper and then my command sergeant major said his son was interested in going too! But in uniform at the Golden Corral when he first learned about the Mars thing, he kept looking at me from across the table saying “you’re going to die Ross, you’re going to die, they don’t have food on Mars”. He knows how much I love food and let’s be honest he didn’t want to lose one of his best soldiers. But after his son learned about it, and they saw me on the news, he was quite proud of me. 😊 He even brought a little clip from a newspaper he found of me mentioned. I’m sure it’s buried around here somewhere with all my awards and medals that would take up probably an entire wall or more.
And feel free to stalk my old Facebook Mars One Candidate page, it’ll have all sorts of links and videos. Hope shit still works. I’m ancient. LOL https://m.facebook.com/deliatomars/
I deployed to Kuwait and Iraq (not Afghanistan) but it was a pretty fun interview!! Just wish I hadn’t invited my evil ex along but at least they spelled his name wrong *evil laugh* https://youtu.be/yupJHGGuMU0
And it’s not true about stuff being on the internet forever because I lost stuff. Important stuffs. That I believed would be around forever…
Have you ever felt the cold night move over you like fog Like lace covered in unholy smog You’re not the boy at all I thought You’re not the hope that I had sought
The Great Expansion The Great Divide The Great Unearthing All I despise
From written word to analog Or being threatened to back off Then having no dialogue I guess I’ve been miscataloged
An ocean of longing and salt linesTears are translucentStill need you tho I waded out too far
I love u. What’s a girl to do? Been crying for the one since I was like ten. Cuz life is shite. But it’s like we’re world’s apart. 💔
I’m in the deep end and I’m caught in the tide!!! 😰Trying to learn how to live and breathe without you. Not doing a very good job 😭An ocean of sadness. The end is all inside us.
There are signs posted with moss covering Empty bottles where the devil is recovering Dirty feathers all around in piles cluttering And care is a word I hear you keep uttering
There are scabs where blood is spluttering No cover for my mouth we are discovering Though secrets are a map I’m not uncovering And love is the only thing left hovering
The lie it grew and grew and grew I knew I fell from heaven on the truth Got stuck like glue On every lie because of you Oh, it hurts so much too From empty bottle to fully blue Hell mistook me for a fool
Your prayer dropped a clue You envy youth Now away it flew Leaving you with tooth How they accrue Still every mask I cut through It’s time I withdrew
Spent the night soiling the earth with tears begging the almighty to let me see what I need so I could be free. Didn’t understand the lesson that be. Crying to God, you can lead a demon to holy water, but you cannot make him drink!!!
Nearly drowning from all that makes me bleed. Suffocating on the very air that we breathe. He gave me new eyes to see. Your soul is empty. God cut me free (now whose lying).
The truth hurts worse than the lieTelling lies to myself. That’s not you. It’s someone else. It’s his brother. I’m crazy! Seeing what I wanna! I seem to like you no matter who you are. Which makes me not like you very much!! 😭😰😭I wish I could believe my own lie when I say I don’t love you.The truth hurts worse than the lie. Oh, God forgive me! I still love you, I do! 💔Cursed like Mina Tepes to always love you. 💔
Sidenote: I’ve been in some sort of weird rhyme scheme where I limit my vocabulary even more than I normally do when rhyming. I don’t rhyme just to rhyme, that’s where people fall flat. There’s probably a name for what I’m doing but brain damage. Losing my mind. I see way more than I want to see with my third eye and I’ve never been so fucking depressed or lonely in my life and it’s not that I don’t like my own company because I do – that’s why I’m isolated. I’m growing ever more suicidal and out of fucks to give. But doing the rhyme scheme like I did above, that shit is hard, yo.
I was also at a place where I was worried about using the same words that I had already used before and then I decided to just let that go.
I’ll probably be jumping off the Eiffel fucking Tower reciting some last words you know. Eh. CR CR CRAZZZY out of fucks to give.
Words are the only thing left holding me together.
Oh, you thought that was just a line?
The only thing I’m staying alive for at this point is the Matrix 4. And maybe another hug from Gavin Rossdale cuz he’s like my fountain of youth. I sniffed his neck once, I’m so fucking weird!!!! I think I wanted a bite 😩
I’m sure he’d like that but not while he’s singing to thousands of people!
Then again, this is me. I could get away with murder just with my smile. 😊
I am 1000% insane crazy because I’m literally in love with dracul even tho he’s a fucking monster. Rip my fucking heart out. At least Mina got laid!!!!! She died by suicide, FYI!!!
SHE WAS REAL!!!! *laughs insanely*
Dracul is still very much feared in his land. I wanted to get married in Transylvania or there about.
Love isn’t real, is it? You never really loved me.
None of you were worth it You made me worthless Able to love less Daily a failed test Deserving a holed chest A bullet not a vest Time to give it a rest Suicide at its best
My best friend had the right idea putting a 357 Magnum gun to her head and blasting a bullet through her brain ending her precious litte life before age 14.
I don’t know why I stuck around this long lying to myself pretending things would get better. They have not.
My best friend’s mom later hung herself on a fucking rope at like age 46 and I’m not far from it.
Edgar Allan Poe couldn’t live without love either and died on the fucking street naked, unknown, poor, fucking broke, and heartbroke. I dare say he was depressed too and I’m officially diagnosing Edgar Allan Poe as depressed. People haven’t got much better. BEASTS in CARDIGAN. Some without a backbone or spine. That’s why they can easily replace you on a dime they’re empty and soulless.
Suicidal and out of fucks to give.
Too much gaslighting and narcissism in the world. No love or nurturing coming in.
The sheeple over run.
I WANT OUT. LET ME OUT
*free yer mind* *okie dokie* *if you die in the Matrix you die in the real world* *jumps from bridge*
I go from flatline To hips shaking engorging my mind He is insanely fine Light-speeds of love climbing my spine Images burning between time All hell then divine Wish I could call him mine
I don’t want to feel thingsFrownGardenCrazy obsessed. Need a rubber room. Or maybe just some love? Attention? Be seen!?! But, I’m not thick and he doesn’t know I exist. Just like she doesn’t know or care that he exists. But she gets all his attention. I CAN’T compete with porn. I wasn’t born with that kind of body. I’m not working out 24/7 just to enhance my ass or training my butthole with a plug so it could take four dicks in it so he’s not interested in me at all. My body / existence does nothing for him. I’m not enough. Never was enough for mankind. Tired of breathing. So lonely. Unloved. He doesn’t care or see me. Invisible. 😭😭😭
Gone But left my heart to disassemble on its own I left it rotting on your throne Caring too much for desensitized bone Lust your tomb or home I’d rather be alone Direction unknown
The person responsible for the stones and sacrifices. Blood vials and hungry vices. Wrong directions cost ultimate prices. Smiling. Our safest lying devices. The sanity will drive you insane. Thanks for another lesson daddy Poe.
He could know He could tear out the knot and tangles that we sew He could go He could block me eternally, still I glow Even when faint, to him, my light will show So I flow
Welp. Can’t get him to block my existence (yet). I can attack him under my pen, under my full name, under my social media accounts, under my email, on my blog, through poetry, he’s got the ultimate ghosting Poker Face, I’ve thrown jabs, gut-wrenching flaming bombs of blame, spat on his name (actually I don’t think I’ve done that, I actually wrote him a poem with his name as an acronym in the title and as a line in the poem, which was hard to do, because I’m madly in fucking love with him and was stupid enough to tell him on his goddamn fucking social media in private message like a fucking roaring lunatic).
It went like this. ‘Hi. I’m suicidal and might die. I wrote this for you. Just thought you should know in case I die’. I don’t think it went down very well. Do you reckon that’s how Edgar Allan Poe delivered his poems to the love of his life (who was his blood cousin but we can’t all be perfects). Welp.
Did I mention I’m not like other girls? I’m rather quirky, weird, and odd. I bite strangers on random; girls, boys, whenever the mood strikes, on a neck or wrist, with such delicate precision and precise pain, that all have been shocked by it, but always moved in a positive way, because it was a weirdly pleasurable experience for them. “You bit me”. “Ee, I kind of did, didn’t I? Oops sorry”. But, none of them have ever felt violated in any way and probably still recall on the experience (though I won’t know, because I don’t even know who they were/ are). I just do it at random. I haven’t really been biting people lately though. But the urges are there. I literally bite people’s girlfriends and boyfriends, but I do it in a non-sexual way, it’s hard to explain it. I do it as a greeting and then I disappear. Sometimes I stick around and chat for a minute or two because my presence will be requested. When I let people see my weirdness they’re impressed. Sometimes I use my brain to blow people’s minds in other ways. But very few are allowed around the real me. I can only say I have psychic abilities and ways to exchange energy and there are people out there who literally think I’m an actual angel who fell. I’ve done meditation sessions and I can know someone’s sign within 5 minutes of meeting them, it blows their mind, “but how” they beg to know”! I tell them I studied astrology intensely when I was 15 “but how” they’d ask! Well, with me mind. Third eye.
Men would have literally burned me at the stake or drowned me with stone tied around my ankle or some other heinous crime as a witch in the 1800s had I been around!
I’m a super sensitive creature and I don’t do well around a lot of people. Or maybe people at all. I like people I do. Sometimes. 👀
My skin and eyes are sensitive to light because I’m part vampyre.
And my skin is sensitive to certain metals because I have Lycan blood in me (I howl at the Moon and bite people on random beware).
Yes, people are scared of me. Boo.
I am a goth queen. I just look really fucking poor because I’m a proper Nosferatu. But I’m going to try to step up my Nosferatu image as soon as the Jeep is paid off and I can start buying black clothing again. I want to start a classy nude cosplay on my Patreon. Just had someone ask me to get on the OnlyFans (and I might reconsider it cuz I was on it for like 5 minutes but I wasn’t aware there was a fucking shadowban going on). I’ve also been tweeking my circle, and unfortunately my crazy ass has actually blocked patrons, so I’m literally kicking people out my life, because I’m suicidal and out-of-control apparently! Woo hoo rubber room y’all (I will escape. I escaped the facility in Alabama on more than one occassion and they had to change all their fucking rules because of me. I was 16 and on suicide watch half the time I was there but left the leader. I left the leader even though I escaped the building several fucking times and was on suicide watch. I AM SPECIAL. LIKE MY MIND IS STUPID POWERFUL YO.
I would just like to point out that I am not against sex work, I am against guys abusing the female population and I think sometimes my message might get lost in between my crazy ass behavior (I act out when I’m suicidal online because I feel very close to how Michael Hutchence did before he fucking tore up his body dying by suicide. Sometimes I want to take a razor blade and just go fucking crazy on myself so like I’m fucking unhinged right now, I know). THAT’S WHY I’M DISABLED. IT’S CALLED DEPRESSION. I WANT TO DIE. At least that’s what my thoughts keep telling me to do, which makes me cry about it, because it’s a really scary thing to think about and I don’t actually want to wind up like Michael Hutchence so I wind up attacking people online cuz I’m waiting for my knight to come save me I guess. It’s definitely not “in hospital care”, I don’t even know how they can call it fucking care, it’s fucking insanity. You go to the hospital, you say, “hi I’m thinking about killing myself and need some help” so they take your clothes from you and they take your phone from you, you can’t have anything that brings you pleasure, you can’t have any books, you can’t have any music, but you can have a Bible and big Pharma!!!!! I’m acting out. Sure. Because I don’t want to wind up like Chris Cornell, who was notifying his wife in the middle of his suicide act, via an app, which turned their bedroom lights on and off, and he did this after a sold-out show in a hotel room!!! I don’t want to wind up like my other heroes like Kurt Cobain or my best friend who died by suicide and every day it’s a battle to not fucking die!!!!
I’m not pretending to be depressed or suicidal. I’m a war veteran and I am being completely transparent about what I’m going through currently because I might die by this disease that I’ve essentially been battling my whole life but gets worse with every breath.
I don’t know what I would do if he blocked me back, I think I would actually fucking die. I’m a horrible person. I probably should die.
I don’t think I’m actually that horrible but some of my fucking actions are and make me really remorseful because I’m not a narcissist.
Every time I hurt him I just hurt me more.
But it’s a lesson I can’t learn because I keep hurting us.
I think maybe he should just fuck me. I think if I got laid half my problems would dissolve in an instance because I have like three years of writing this dude poetry and being insanely fucking madly in love with him and sometimes I’m a star collapsing under my own weight. Or he’s a black hole tugging me. Or I’m the black hole stealing his light. Or maybe we belong together.
Or maybe our love story is similar to that of dracul Vladimir Tepes. I’m trying not to dive off the tower like Mina did. Or, after he spends millenia looking for me, I have to end his misery only to be kept with my own (and still without him, tho the love won’t die). I fell in love with him, God won’t allow me not to love him, I was born loving him. This I know.
Edgar Allan Poe died without his love too. 😭
As soon as Johnny Cash lost his wife, he lost his battle to cancer. He gave up the good fight. 😭
I don’t want to live without him but I keep pushing him away! 😭
*sobs uncontrollably*
*the chances of dying in the street increased*
So on some days I’m ready to retire and on other days I’m ready to open up my nude Patreon tier. On some days, I want to die and on other days I’m living life.
Stay tuned. I’m bound to fall again. And again.
Some secrets I’m never telling. Be careful what the devil is selling.
Awoke before sunrise, far below the clouds Lost hope before his eyes, fell below the crowds I stopped to smell his lies, now I’m seeking shrouds Though somnolent were his cries, now his pain enshrouds
I wish I could get some sleep. I guess I will when I die.
I’m on the Patreon, if you dig my writing and photography or digiart, there’s loads of EXCLUSIVE CONTENT up! You get cool perks for pledging and I get to keep writing and running my blog advert free! I really like writing! I’ve been practicing my art since I was a little girl, thank you for giving me the opportunity to do it professionally!
For the love of God there were more than two parties deserving of a chance to speak at the presidential elections but also to have gotten your votes instead.
Voting left or right, red or blue brings about absolutely zero change and the two-party outdated system needs to be abolished.
Jo Jorgensen was a better candidate than the two assholes y’all put in charge but congratulations!!!! You bought the FEAR the 1% sold you!!!
GO BACK TO SLEEP!!!
That last statement is so powerful but it will go over most civilians head… Fully awake and experiencing life. You should drop stop drowning yourself at the end of a bottle and making wrong fucking votes. Then you might not have a fucking face full of grey hairs already. FYI. Alcohol is a depressant. They also have like therapy for sex addiction and alcohol and all kinds of stuff if you have the willingness to get better which you don’t cuz cumming. You don’t know how to harness your sexual energy or to vote.
The no entry signs are posted still they stray I’ve stated there’s no hope yet they pray I’ve mentioned I am starving they won’t pay I need some time alone can’t get a day
Nosferatu but call me Vampyre D (Vampy D). And I prefer solitude.
Thanks for checking out and supporting my work! Everything I create is original content at @poeeternal.
Thanks for supporting independent writers and artists! ❤
Energy can’t be destroyed Iron gates can’t stop what God deployed A toxic giant void Overly paranoid Or just just ignored
They’re all for her Illogical Every single word I observe I’m just a neurotic girl He uses to rise and stir And I concur He wants forever Just in another world
I come But then I’m gone Lost on the run I understand But then I’m dumb I jump But then I’m stunned I speak Then tongue is wrung I won’t compete Unless I’ve won
All you ever care about is the life you built What is it but an island of guilt
You ripple the fabric of time Dropping poems like pebbles But who out there should feel each wave As if were all mine?
My love, I can’t block the fabric of time or my love for you. I’ve tried endlessly to. Cutting out the need like truth. I lie to do.
My love, I smell your fear and read it as silence. And while my hands are small they hold such violence. My light gets lost in your iris. But I would die for this.
Stop using me to bleed Cut you from my feed Amputate the need Your evil seed
Look at me all frail and pale A ghostly figure freckled with fright Look at all the shite I write It’s best if I stay out of sight
I block the channel But can’t stop the feed I numb existence Just not the need
Why do you give out your fruit To awful prey She’s dug a root You’re just her slave
I’ve had just about enough of this bandwagon Exiting stage right quickly to abandon Sick of watching other hearts you stuff and over fatten Meanwhile there’s a spotlight on every fault that’s ever happened
I’ve spent enough time following this circus To simply know this isn’t our purpose But your mask is her clown behind an ugly curtain And you’ll never change, this we know for certain
There’s a thick layer of doubt Enveloped over more doubt Hope is now in drought I’m lost en-route There’s no love about
He’s all beast in cardigan Lying every second if he can All over earth they span His name is man
I’ve got very fine silks growing from my head Still they call me dead
Leave me alone to rot Let hope decay Find my love an empty plot The cost too high to pay
You’re better than a pyramid scheme Riding piggyback over her every broken dream Her methods outdated and obscene She’s a copycat queen
I set myself apart Too many broken feet Trying to compete For the best of me I’m not meat For them to eat But they try and feast In a frenzy Still tied and chained To mistakes yet more they seek Well I’m not weak
You’re better than that wheel of fakery
Not your enemy Not your friend You got empathy Just not my hand
Not your ally Not your wife You got power But still cause strife
Not your favorite Not your worst You got popularity But I’m still first
Why are you still hanging out with that gang? Riding the fake ass gravy train Hopping bandwagon after bandwagon under her name She’s hoping for fame You’re missing your game
He’s got alot of money, he’ll even call you friend But he will only make you feel cheaper in the end He’s got alot of money, but not a spine for him to stand And I’ll kick his ass if he ever comes ’round here again
Safety ever an illusion Tiptoeing over delusion Frozen lakes of confusion This hand is for losin’
He doesn’t want me for himself He doesn’t want me with anyone else He doesn’t want me for himself He doesn’t want me
Tell me, when mountains crumble beneath your feet When you’ve got a tongue, but no breath to speak When your knees are trembling and you’ve fallen weak Is it ever me you think you need?
He won’t support me month after month for my work And he’s got more rooms than he can fill I’m tired of even trying When to the world I have no worth
I’m all nerve endings Pockets lined with anxiety
I am pen within pen Leaking under skin Bleeding from within Marching forward Chained to sin Our time is thin
If you are having thoughts of harming yourself, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255. You are not alone.
Will you be there to watch your mom die Or will it be by the hand of suicide Years and years of these trials Hard to keep you by my side Took a chance once or twice And might succeed tonight – oh son!
Some call it paradise But it’s a parasite Understand what living’s like It’s like your under knife Want a hand to get it right Don’t leave the world a fright – oh son!
Accept that life is might Don’t have the heart to fight I wear this sadness tight Like a rope in flight Sorry’s nowhere in sight And I’m alone, alright! – oh son!
Y’all, I’m fine. It’s a song I’m writing, and I wish I could get the melody from my head to my guitar and my vocals. I also wish I could write a guitar solo from the tip of my tongue the way David Gilmour can. I can’t. I know maybe 4 chords. I can’t evenwhistle.
I’m sharing my struggles with you. Because there’s a 50% chance I might not make it out alive… dark times.
Depression is when every part of you wants to give up and roll over but you crawl on, in agony, anyway.
Some escape this despair, for other’s it’s terminal. There’s a 50/50 chance for survival. You’ll need rigorous response to recover and live with depression. Currently, I’m trying alternative treatments and therapy. Stuff doesn’t always work. Sometimes I become immune to treatments. Sometimes I disappear for days and no one knows where I am or hears from me. Sometimes they force treatment on me, throw me in rubber rooms, where it takes 6 people to hold me down just to shoot my ass up with Thorazine. Regardless if you go voluntary or not for in-house treatment, they will take all your clothes from you and your phone, you can’t have any of your books, but you’re allowed the Bible, you can’t talk to anybody, you can’t read magazines or listen to music, because there’s this underlying misconception that “stuff” can make you better.
And then no one wants to admit to having mental health issues because you get called “crazy” or other demeaning terms,and often the closest people around you, will use those terms against you when they are angry.
If you are struggling, I’m not going to say it gets better, because honestly, it gets worse. Depression isn’t about how much money you have or fame, it doesn’t care if you are broke or rich, and that’s why rich people die from depression too. But these things can be symptoms of depression. Depression can come about just because it wants to. It doesn’t take a death, or job loss, divorce, or any other event to be depressed. That’s why you shouldn’t ask people, “what do you have to be depressed about?”. Depression is a mental health illness, you’re ILL. You might need meds, therapy, short or long term treatments. It’s not your fault that you are ill. You are not alone. Hang on.
Edit to add: Sometimes depression is environmental so it doesn’t always require therapy or treatment. Sometimes it requires a change in your environment or situation. So don’t always assume a pill can make something better. And don’t push big pharma on others or make demeaning comments like, “you haven’t taken your medication have you”.
Hellos. I’m fine despite dark thoughts swirling like a nebula. Depression.
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Hey y’all! Thank you to everyone who helped make my birthday special yesterday!! If you left love on my socials or watched me on Twitch, double thank you! I’ll be going live again soon! 😍
Yesterday, Joy for Jan, a depression awareness group, ran by two ladies who lost their mother by suicide, also published a special video message I recorded for them, on their Instagram TV/ IGTV. It’s a little over 10 minutes long and talks about the misconception that you can just “snap out of depression”. Most of us have been guilty of thinking this or asking this of others. “Hey come on, cheer up, what do you have to be sad about?”. Well that’s the thing, there’s plenty to be sad about but it doesn’t require an event to make you depressed. Everything can be going great in your life and you or someone you know can still get depression.
Check out the special video message I made for them and check out their website and socials. If you prefer, they published the video on their Facebook page too. You can view that here.
They are an excellent support group for mental health awareness.
Follow them, listen to others, spread the word. Let’s help change the misconceptions regarding depression and mental illness.
We all know someone who is suffering from depression, or we’ve lost someone to suicide, or we suffer from depression ourselves.
You’re not crazy, you’re ill.That’s why it’s called a mental illness.
And often it takes rigorous response to treat depression. Depression is and can be TERMINAL.
The suicide rate continues to rise worldwide, not just among military and Veterans, but civilians as well. Have some compassion for yourself and for others.
Practice the art of forgiveness.
Sending light and love to those suffering from mental illness and to those who have lost someone to mental illness.
If you dig my blog, please consider showing your support through a small monthly membership on Patreon. If you prefer, you can also make a one-time donation here. Thank you.
I want him to stretch out my smile until my cheek hurts Roll around on the ground laughing til it’s worse I want his poetry as my universe His kisses to be my in-house nurse
I want his words instead of roses, dig? Forgiveness for mistakes I hid Perhaps another chance to bid Love despite the things I did
You give life color You are the place sadness goes to rest Gently under midnight breath You unchain the collar
Your tongue rushes through layers of time only to stand still! Why do you stomp outside my gate demanding honor when your skin is made of scales? I wonder if there is any light left in you at all? Do you feel my love sneaking into you at night? Or when my tears have sweetened the sky?
Is it a pen- Or a tool for destruction?
Is it a hand- Or a rule for instruction?
Why do you always have to be so bad? Why do you exist only to make me sad? Why are you always claiming I am wrong? Why are you someplace I don’t belong?
Remorse is a little grave Radioactive your words decay They cause delay Like the games you play The lies you say The lives you slay
I don’t hide behind pretense or a mask I’ve got a mind to not do what you ask If you want it first you’ll get it last A narcissist hating me, makes me feel first-class!
Just go! Why do you always make a scene? Your reason cruelly crafted, doesn’t mean a thing.
Life happens in gallops The downs, the ups A calloused heart develops Blackened and jealous
There’ll never be an us You’re too careless You’ve got life but you’re aimless Now the end you can cherish
You’re spinning on your axis Your every lie is backless I’m splitting from this madness And returning all your sadness
People out there climbing, hardly trying, rarely ever hear them crying…
Don’t let the bottle sink you to the floor Got you nailing shut every door Every hour you are at war The enemy is your roar We can’t take it anymore
Eventually longing runs out like a clock that stops ticking…
She’s a pyramid scheme Lined in fake gold and your dying dream The way her eyes will gleam Faking is in her bloodstream
They are tied together at the seam He injects her like she’s morphine She ranks him number one supreme But all they ever do is scream
You cling to death a hardend criminal Morally bankrupt
She has darkness leaking from her eyes Scales and veins that demoralize The blood runs blue behind cold skies Quickly fallen the soldier dies
His smile is fusion So his kingdom I’m choosing
You left me dismantled Said there was nothing you couldn’t handle I guess you had a different angle You were gone by the flick of your candle
My time was fully channeled But now our friendship has been cancelled Everyday a different battle Took all I had to not get mangled
Stow my fucks upon the mantle I’ll write you off another devil There were signs that I’m a rebel I guess I’m on a different level
Choice is yours to revel You’re a man that’s acting feral Trust is like a petal And I need to be more careful
Time is a death sentence.
Do you take the stars with you when you disappear? Do you hide the light within your black soul?
I am a wounded warrior who fought for this country I need more than fancy cars or money Or the consistent catcalling of “come here honey”
Give me wonder from your fingertips, from your every word that slips Galactic walls of poetry, moves for my dancing feet, that’s all I’ll ever need
Who or what are you chasing? Everyday I see the man you could be slowly erasing
You move in-and-out of my life like water; you shape my rivers.
She looks cheap and worn down like an old lumber mill- But piss on her and he’ll crumble at will!
My love, lend me your ear Spending time with you would change the atmosphere
Do my pleas appear like flares in darkened skies Are my hopes and dreams all the things that you despise
Growing evermore increasingly isolated And humanity, well I don’t like it And man and his lies absolutely hated And to think for love I sat around and waited
But love is about abundant as God And man only rule with his evil rod But leave it to them to curse why I’m flawed And when it comes to law every one is a fraud
An angel and a demon fall in love
He doesn’t want to hurt her, he can’t change who he is Walk away he won’t let her and try yes she did
There were warnings in the echoes Writings on the windows
-LOVE FORBID-
One day these words will be gone – life won’t exist Time is slow but not forever, now is in the mist
Let’s rewind the details.
They line up like dogs, fisting her, inching her Why do you love her, I need an answer
I just freestyle wrote this and shared it on my Instagram but I wanted to share it here also… I really love to rhyme!
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OMG y’all, this pandemic/quarantine/shutdown has left me gasping to find inspiration. I haven’t got to go to one gig this year to see a band I love or anything and that’s what I’m pretty much alive for. I haven’t got to get in my Jeep and just travel for hundreds of miles to another state to go see a band I love or a friend. Zero road trips. I’m alive for the arts. Music. Poetry. Drink. Freedom of choice. And I fought for these things too.
But borders are closing. Hospitals overflowing. Information disclosing. Opinions opposing. People exposing.
There’s been little to live for but alot to be said. And for the record, I am PRO MASK. I worked as an EMT medic for many years, in the hospitals, in the fields, and in combat zones. There’s not anything you’re going to say that’s going to defer my opinion from what the CDC is putting out. Or from what my training and experience has taught me. And I’m the kind of person that would gladly get back in the Army just to have the right to enforce that on you. I was an excellent soldier, and once a soldier, always a soldier. HOOAH. And there are medics that are actually returning to the government military just to help with this pandemic. Wear a mask. 😷
I have found some inspiration during this epidemic and that’s the amount of traffic and feedback I’ve been getting on my poetry and on my blog/ website. And for some reason it just inspires me to keep writing and sharing. Despite the terrible lows and hailing cries. Despite the unfollows and lost patrons. I am moving on. I go from barefoot to combat boots. I am both feminine and masculine. Soft and hard. Together and messy. Life is complicated. But I created my blog as a safe place to write. And I’ve even done monstrous things here but life goes on and I do not dwell. I’m evolving. Sometimes I turn into the monsters I am slaying. Hive mind. Even from the depths of hell, I can’t control all of me, all the time *gasp*. But I blame big Pharma and depression just as much as I do myself.
Sometimes I stop and commend myself for making it this far. For all the storms I’ve actually gone through, not just the internal ones, but the real ones. Sandstorms. Hurricanes. Unfit parents. Sexual, verbal, and physical abuse survivor. War. (I’d even throw childbirth in there and a rib tattoo, broken bones, sickness). STORMS. 🤓
I’ve got enough medals and awards from the military that I could fill an entire wall but nothing makes me happier than to see my blog hit FIFTY THOUSAND VIEWS. 50,000 visits to my little home on the web!!! 😍
I read through the WordPress FAQ some time ago to see if my own IP/visits are counted / included and THEY ARE NOT (though the do keep track of authors separately because you can have multiple authors on a single blog (which is why you can see yourself in the stats but if you go read the FAQ you will see that it clearly does not count towards your view/visit counts to your own blog!!
My blog has also been getting more follows too, the current tally is 834 blog followers and if I ever hit 1K I will squeal! I am a terrible blogger in that my depression and anxiety keeps me isolated, so I’m not social, but I put everything I have into the words I bring you. I’m genuine, I’m just emotionally unavailable. Maybe my soul is leaking from my pen and now you all have bits of me. I’m giving you all I have.
Your feedback and comments and support is a treasure surely and though I oft little share it in return, I am grateful for you. I’ll even protect you and take a bullet for you but hold your hand, no. Sometimes people ask me what my sexuality is or my nationality and I say vampirism. I walk the streets of hell alone, it is my duty. I cannot be sidetracked by lust and sins, be gone demons. I’ve had enough. Mine is tempered and sleeping this decade off because- Apophis 2029. I’m only interested in spiritual healing, positive energy, and mental growth. I’m dying. The end is painful but the environment must be peaceful, dig? I don’t want you in my foxhole. But near. Tell me of beauty and poetry. I’m entitled to die how I want. If they made assisted suicide legal, I’d be on that bandwagon in a heartbeat.
Depression is and can be TERMINAL. The methods for treating depression are barbaric. From foxholes to thorazine hazed padded rooms. Fuck you. My diary 2020. Bringing it to you live right now. This year so far, on top of this pandemic, I was nearly hospitalized without my permission, taken in the back of a cop car, to a hospital so my mental health could be evaluated before they decided if they were going to withhold me, for a minimum of one week (7 days), without my permission, without any way to escape, without my service dog, my phone, or even the clothes on my back. In fact, while I was waiting in a locked room, they removed all of my clothing and items and gave me a hospital gown. 4 hours later the doctor saw me and agreed I was fit enough to return home. Which was great because I had already pre-warned the cop that if I was separated from my dog I was about to turn into a criminal with a record… but also, recently as the shutdown was happening here in Florida, I got pulled over by three cops in 3 cop cars with their lights going for not doing a full stop at the sign. A tiny fraction of a rolling stop- 3 cops. And I nearly died of a heart-attack. And white privilege was definitely not rolling around in my head, more like fear, but it did help that I was a damsel in distress and (kind of cute but my dog is cuter), but I didn’t yell at the cops either, or give them any more reasons to come at me hostilly cuz they weren’t fucking around… anyhoo that was probably my 8th life out of 9 cat lives lived/used… my luck and time is running out. But also, lesson learned STAY HOME.
2020 has mostly been lows but the blog love has been a lifeboat, a lighthouse, and even a life jacket and I can breathe a little. There’s nothing worse than my freedom being threatened. But I’ve been responsible for it being threatened every time, my worst enemy is me.
Fuck defundung the police. How about giving back the rights to vote to voters who are back in society. Think about all the people in America who cannot vote because of the War on Drugs, marijuana is becoming legal in a lot of States, but there are still people behind bars for marijuana offenses. WRONG. FREE THE PEOPLE. FREE THE PLANT. STOP THE WAR ON DRUGS. WE NEED REFORM IN JAILS AND PRISONS. We need to give people back their right to vote!!! “But voting doesn’t make a difference” fuck you- IT DOES. Utilize your right to vote! Florida had on the ballot to give back prior criminals the right to vote and it passed and I was there voting on that issue, I voted yes, give them their rights back to vote, so luckily people who have gone to jail or prison over the War on Drugs at least in Florida now have the right to vote again, fucking use your voice, it works! And yes I know all about the NWO / New World Order Illuminati, I know they exist, but on a state-level voting helps.
Anyway, I’m not allowed to talk about politics or religion or even what kind of medications I’m allowed to put in my own body because I will literally lose followers and supporters… Someone out there right now is probably unfollowing me because I am pro mask and pro medicinal marijuana. Or pro-voter. I’ve lost followers for not being Christian enough. For vampire cosplay. For not being sexually available for their needs. For not giving them my precious energy or time. For showing my boobs. For not showing my boobs. I mean, all I have to do is wake the fuck up and I’ll lose a follower. Here, there, everywhere. It’s frustrating. It’s meant to hurt. It always does. And sometimes I even run off followers with a duststorm following behind. It’s regretful yes. I’ve even sent hatemail. UGGG. THE CROSS I CARRY. CURSED. Sometimes I know what caused the manic outbreaks. I’m just trying to get to a point in my life where I don’t react. Zen. I also get my Jeep paid off in October which will be my last car payment and that will bring me some financial freedom and I’ll be out of the financial apocalypse that I found myself in. Then I’m saving for a trip to the UK. VACA. TRAVEL. The thing I live for. MUSIC. BUSH. BANDS.
Thanks for reading my blog! For following! For liking and commenting! For re-blogging or sharing my work! For dealing with my anti-social behavior and mood swings. For forgiving me of my mistakes and still loving me when I make them because you see that I’ve put in effort to get better or change. For trying to listen and learn about depression. For allowing me to be completely transparent with you. For letting me decide things and then change my mind. For letting me experiment with who I am and what is art. For letting me share my sexuality without there being some form of sexual harassment that always follows. For letting me just be me and not having to give you anything in return (tid for tat). For liking me despite my flaws. For encouraging me to keep writing!! For reading my rhyme!!! There just aren’t many people who are into rhyming poetry or even that many rhyming poets left!! So I’m grateful for you! And I need so much space currently to write. I need the space to be a certain energy or vibe. I don’t have time or energy to piss away, I have so much left to say and so little mood or energy to do it!! Thanks for listening! THANKS FOR 50,000 VISITS TO MY BLOG. HOLY SHIT. I love you. 😍
Screenshot of my pinned tweet by the amazing actor, Val Kilmer who said he LOVED my handle (my Twitter name which is my pseudonym/pen name on the web and under which I write /publish poetry).
As a writer, it was cool to get a compliment about my pen from one of my favorite actors since I was 10 years old, and first saw him in the film Willow. Loved him in Batman, The Doors, and so many more movies!! I wish I could get my hands on some of Kilmer’s poetry. And I’m devastated I sold my first edition poetry book by Jim Morrison on Ebay but financial apocalypse… (it was either going to be an heirloom for my child or it was going to be loot in my tomb).
I’m sorry the audio is out of synch with the video. I tried recording 20 times, 2 different devices, restarting device & internet, still not in sync. Accepted life is messy and not perfect. Edited and posted anyway for effort and because 50K!!Amazed50K!!! Edgar Allan Poe sends his regards 😆I was up all night nearly patiently waiting for my blog to roll over to 50,000 views. This was 10 views away from 50K. And I missed 50,000, when it turned it was already at 50,003!! 🤓If you’re bothered by a little bra showing, it’s Florida m’kay, nearly 100 degrees here… no filter. Thanks for 50K!!! I luv u!!! My 50K smile 😆I don’t have just a few freckles, in reality, I have more freckles on my body than existing galaxies… For realz (just change ‘outing’ to ‘anything I said yes to’ instead)
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I’m depressed, moody, withdrawn, emotionally detached, unavailable in every capacity. People swear they get it up until they’re screaming profanities at me for how evil I am for not giving them my time (or love for that matter). I am a fallen angel and a creature of the underground, I’m not capable of love. But a monster I am not. Just simply void and numb. Sorry not sorry. SURVIVAL MODE
What does all this mean? Depression means I’m incapable of forming attachments. Or joy. Writing is my only escape. It was my escape when I was a little girl and couldn’t escape all the abuse. I wrote poetry in between classes at school. On the bus. On the toilet. And guess what? I still do. Only now I’m sharing this part of me WITH YOU. But I lose friendships and followers because I’m unable to maintain communication right now. I keep telling people I’m depressed and suicidal but it’s like wind over the ears. They still need me to provide a service for them. I cannot. I barely can brush my teeth on some days. This is not me you’re meeting but some ruined version of what I might have could of been… (and yes under all the suicidal ideation I am gentle and loving and worth saving). So bye.
“Just another lost angel”…
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He’s going down a road I’ll never be taking But that doesn’t stop the moon every night from breaking Getting more rest won’t stop me from aging And long are the hours in shame we are aching
He’s a golden statue crumbling down The crown he wears just drags the ground He’ll likely beg where she is bound A noose around his fate was found
What is truth but feeling numb And watching others acting dumb Why have one when none’s a sum When you predict every outcome
I chewed off more than I can bite It’s possible I’ll die tonight I’m not okay but that’s alright You’ll never see me make it right
I’ve been approved by the state for medical. There’s so much fear mongering about it uggg. I’ll likely do a blog post about it. Is this still a safe place!?!
He’s never once said he enjoys my stories My poetry, my writing, he must find it boring While everyone else gets all the glory I am left with nothing but worries
I look for him in places he won’t be I’m not perfect like she I’m not anything Alive for humility So tired of suffering In cloaks of invisibility Why does he torture me He loves her infinitely I am nobody No one worth to see I am dying
There are galaxies growing full on regret with spiral arms chasing all it can get.
I should have been more careful with words The way they hollow out the bone And some forgive, some repent, most return the stone
His words are a ruse, perhaps a bruise, a broken home, where I still choose
He is my muse, a sun or fuse, a high with blues, regret in two’s
He’s got bullets for hands Fingers like loaded magazines With a mouth full of conniption His life is nothing but fiction And he’s all but evil in his genes
I’m so tired of carrying this cross; the weight of everything I’ve done. These last steps have only shown loss; and coming last, the loneliness I won.
Will you remember me when I’m only dust? When failed dreams are all but rust? Will you remember what we discussed? Will you keep safe my love of us?
Take your broken piece Take my broken bits Align them together Broken pieces that fits
The good die The wicked live The faithful cry The sinful don’t forgive
There’s only room in the world for the wicked Trust might be earned but you won’t keep it
Shuddering since the day my eyes befell you
What are you if not the every breath I take
The sight of his lip makes me weak The sound of his voice makes me tremble The way the blue in his eye makes me hunger Trip and fall under
He came stumbling in half-drunk on whiskey and regret Any feelings he hadn’t killed them yet
His voice in a low rumble Makes my atoms jumble Feel them roll and stumble How I crumble Now I’m humble
I could listen to his voice for hours Swallowing all eternity He plants words in me like flowers Growing taller is the love we need
You step out of my dream and into existence and take me for a moonlit walk With night flowers blooming and hours still looming the Moon carefully gawks My hands you are holding with energy flowing your lips where my kisses dock And our shadows growing where love comes out flowing our hearts beating like clocks
I’ve got 5 grams of darkness left for sale And an army of fears in a pale There’s a case of worry over there And for an upgrade you can go to hell
I can feel my face literally breaking From the pain in my chest where my heart is still aching Roads become regrets we are constantly taking
I wonder what color my hair is underneath all this shame
Come back my love Where my wild winds are blowing
It’s the end of the world today A sad parade And marching out slowly the hope that will fade
Sometimes he hurts me just to watch the sea level rise
I have night terrors and unholy cries My worth so little not worth goodbyes The days might be changing but not these grey skies
But for moments lost with you I forgot about the war
Or what I’m searching for
I open every door
Love me now Before you can’t anymore
I’m his bird Carefully observed Pecking away at his every word My hope reserved And hell deserved But love is here And well preserved
Why did you go? Where did you lead us? There are armies bleeding tears which swell and swallow whole moons Why did you take the light with you to leave us here to croon? My hope floats on fear all afternoon Sometimes the darkness is blinding And always there reminding It got you too soon Reason only comes in brigades of sorrow Where doubt peeks its head at tomorrow But cowers behind the window Why did you fall after the show? Now all the angels trow There are chains on the month of May The Earth pulling the days Our eyes are pulk You lost your way All the days are heavy Like heaven falling on its knee That’s where we plea Please don’t you leave! Where are the steps to find you? Our godfather of grunge Our black sun There is little truth in flame Are drugs to blame? You were the sun to somebody, everybody Every day We will remember your name I am the same Living decay Now where will the summer lead Where will the sun fade
Written for and dedicated to Chris Cornell of Soundgarden who died by suicide (poem and photo edits by me @poeeternal) RIP 💔💔💔
Chris Cornell (edit by me)Chris Cornell (edit by me)
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PoeEternal 