Lune des Poissons

“Feet don't fail me now

Take me to the finish line” – LDR

What if this was the last time I spoke to the voices inside my head?

What if this was the last time I stared at my reflection? letting me look at her one last time before she leaves.

What if this was the last morning that I ever woke up?

These thoughts nakedly swim inside my mind as I tear around my bedroom in a silk nightgown. Dancing in the dark under a pale moonlight, the wind bellowing the curtains around me as I put on a show for the demon who hides in the dark of my ensuite. Befriended every monster under my bed. My head crashes against the pillows, and I'm no longer here.

The gatekeeper carelessly dropped the keys off on my nightstand. Maybe he secretly pitied me; I thought he loved the way I was losing my mind.

The air appears different now; something is being carried in the breeze, and it's coming for me. It’s coming in hot as though its riding on the wings of a bomb.

Life began to rock me ultra-softly while change cradled my mind and let it shift into the light, breaking up the war inside. Allowing myself to fill with positive energy as the negative energy deflects, for I am fucking radiant!

“Lost, but now I am found

I can see that once I was blind

I was so confused as a little child

Tried to take what I could get, scared that I couldn't find

All the answers I need” – LDR

All those evil eyes that continuously cursed me are now blind from the needle that I've pierced them with. Anyone can curse you, but it hurts more from those who you thought were closest to you. Either way, blind them all.

I'm crying while I'm cumming, writing of love and soft decay. And if I'm making money from it, I write between the lines. I want to keep the completed works hidden under the floorboards, but the narcissist in me has me scatter them throughout all my poems, making them vague, incomplete and out of context. It's my way of not letting people get too close, keeping them at a distance.

My spirituality is fragile. For years, my relationship with God was through the teachings of others and not my own. Reading the Bible now, I lie in the ocean and think about the verses I can't abide. The dark clouds begin to slowly roll in, and I can hear the sounds of thunder. The waves begin to crash over me, and as I see the flashes of lightning, it's as though God is taking my final picture before he kills me. Maybe God and I weren't meant to get along.

I'm nobody's daughter; I haven't been for a very long time. Though my parents felt they loved me enough to give me a sister whom I wasn’t aware of until I was introduced to her at the hospital, I often feel like I am an only child. I've only ever had myself, and just with that notion alone, I'm learning to give myself the love, praise, and encouragement I had never received growing up. It feels nice not to have to lick it off a knife.

I'm learning to keep my dreams and ambitions quiet, less I see them dash and divide like dying stars shooting across the night sky. I'm climbing up the H of the Hollywood sign, not to hug the world goodbye but to dance with the moon and amongst the stars. To find peace and to carve my name onto its heart.

I'm not the darkness I endured. I am the light that refused to surrender.