Tattooed Everything

‘Sheets of empty canvas
Untouched sheets of clay
Were laid spread out before me
As her body once did’

Sometime in the future…

“Poets are liars.”

Jennifer walked out on me today, because I called her Abby… but really I think it’s cause she got sick of my inability to give. Orgasms are one thing I guess, but most people want to feel some sort of “connection”, some scorching in the throat to convince themselves they’re feeling. No judgement will be passed from my side, plus I wish her all the best; after all… I used to be someone who felt things and loved people.

Used to…’

‘All five horizons
Revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun
Now the air I tasted and breathed
Has taken a turn’

Sometime in the past

“Poets are liars.”

I experienced love  in my dreams. Perhaps it has something to do with all the dreaming about her . My long haired, pale-skinned dream. The first time it happened I cried in my sleep and I felt the burn of her lips on mine for years thereafter… I still do. To stare into nothingness, or the most picturesque landscape was to be thrown back into that snapshot moment of forever, and she had no idea I was reaching for her, but then neither did I.

Oh but she found me, and everything changed in my knowing I’d be temporary, and she would be the end.

It’s only fair to end off where one began.

‘ and all I taught her was everything
Oh I know she gave me all that she wore
And now my bitter hands
Chafe beneath the clouds
Of what was everything’

We were aimless at first. Just two souls dancing and clashing and sometimes, meeting perfectly in semblance. Almost choreographed in awkward bumpy, rhythm-less touches of one to the other. She taught me that to create was to give everything away, not expecting anything in return. I could only teach her how to survive, to pretend, and never to trust poets.

I’ve stopped being a poet since… now I draw the fantasies of silly little Abbys, Jennifers and generally girls who romanticize the permanence of ink on their gullible, sapped skins.

I remember her every kind word…that permanence will be mine.

‘Oh the pictures have
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything’

Sometime or other

“poets are liars.”

I wake-up drenched and shivering with my arm outstretched towards that side of my bed that was once occupied. That’s when the itch begins. It starts behind my vocal chords and I can’t even scream. My eyes are next, but I can’t cry so the shaking and drenching only worsens.

So I lift the machine, I tare off my shirt and distribute just enough ink to cover my “heart”. Not that I believe I still own one.

This is a madman meditating to the sound of a needle and not to stop until the itching subsides, or at least until I am able to cry.

I take a walk outside
I’m surrounded by
Some kids at play
I can feel their laughter
So why do I sear

Present time

“poets are liars.”

I chose this repetitive phrase, because it is true, which is why I can’t poem anymore. I’ve been learning the value of honesty… truth…transparency…fighting for the woman I love. This is a forward to a time where I might be alone, but maybe I won’t. There are no givens, no certainties, but I can’t help but give myself away for what I hope is the last time. The itch is ever present and it reminds me it is there as I trip over my shoe laces, though in the park; no one cares about embarrassment.

I hope.

‘Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin
Round my head
I’m spinning
Oh, I’m spinning
How quick the sun can, drop away’

Sometime or other

“poets are liars.”

I can feel my hand pressing way harder than is recommended for proper ink work… but it makes no difference now. Let me be the embryo of ugly grey scar-tissue. Let it bleed and tare and scream in its muted expression, how much it feels like being abandoned or worse, being lied to. I’m no longer a poet…

My drawing lines thicken.

‘And now my bitter hands
Cradle broken glass
Of what was everything
All the pictures had
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything’

…and thicken…

All the love gone bad
Turned my world to black
Tattooed all I see
All that I am
All I’ll be

…and thicken…

‘I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life
I know you’ll be a star
In somebody else’s sky
But why
Why
Why can’t it be
Why can’t it be mine’

But I am not a poet, and grammatically this sentence is incorrect because of the first word. Also… I don’t own a tattoo machine (yet) and I’m only still learning to draw, as I am learning to love, to interact… to live and not feel guilty for it. And if you are to be someone else’s star, my love I’d look up to you while my lines thicken. But until that day comes, I refuse to be a poet, I refuse to think back or forward or sideways. Promise me to look here and I will lock gazes with you and we can paint and laugh and love and fight… do all the things I’d miss, while you’re still mine.

I love you.

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Step 1: The Realization

Since last week’s blog, I’ve come to realize a few things:

  1. There are always people who care and those people are not always the closest to you, in fact they are probably far away or so busy they might as well be on the other side of the world.
  2. There really is help for anyone who dares to ask for it. I can say that with the help of a very special human friend in my life, and the interest of a good human far away, I now have a little bit of hope in the form of online therapy whenever I feel the need to reach out. It’s not particularly difficult though sometimes it is uncomfortable while I am in the act of typing it all out, the real trouble lies in what happens in the hours and sometimes days that follow. But there is help and that is all I really asked for, and I cannot express how grateful I am to both of these people for giving of their time and effort to make a difference.
  3. Some people won’t regard your depression as a real struggle: In fact I used to be one of those people since I had been brought up in a very Bulgarian family who really do not consider feelings to be of any importance and who regard depression as a phase and sadness as weakness. I still struggle to share any of what is really going on with my family because I do not, at this stage; need to validate what I am going through. A few years back, I had an admirer who unfortunately was also struggling with depression and I found it very unattractive at the time. I feel awful about it now, but I am glad that I have a better understanding and I must admit that I feel rather insecure about what I am going through at the moment, but I have someone who’s slowly proving to me that it is okay to break sometimes and it is not anything to be ashamed of.
  4. Thunder-storms, rain and cuddles combined are a great re-energizer. It happened a night ago. My partner gently woke me up and I got to experience the first summer rain and thunder-storm while in the safest, most wonderful embrace. The storm itself was soft and though the rain didn’t last long, the moment was one that I had never in my life imagined possible for me, it was just perfect. It made me hungry to feel that way more often, as opposed to feeling guilty or undeserving of my own happiness. I deserve to be happy, and even if I may not really know how to be happy at this point, I have glimpses of what it feels to be that way and I am eager to have more of that.
  5. Harry Potter is good for the soul! It may sound off topic, but I think it is very relevant. The story itself is a manifestation of a struggling human’s strength, and in this world I found my own bit of strength. I remember going to watch Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets when I was about 12, it was a very sad day for me and since I had no one to talk to I walked a few km just to go see the movie and get away from home and from my own thoughts… I just felt so easily comforted by every single aspect of the story. I had not read the books back then (I still haven’t because then it all comes to an end. I have decided to read one more book every few years, but I want to drag it out for as long as possible). It took me 12 years since the release of Lord Of The Rings: The Return Of The KIng; to watch that because I did not want it to end either, but in any event. It’s nice to have a little magic in your life even in the form of stories and what gives me hope is the fact that I can slowly but surely begin to feel the meaning of those words: magic, adventure, love, trust, hope… it’s not going to be an easy fix but as a much stronger me used to say, ” Nothing is impossible!”

Traditional Witchcraft for Woods and Forests; A review.

Traditional Witchcraft for the Woods & Forests by Melusine Draco is a wonderful read for anyone who feels the need to get away from the pressures of the city for a moment or few.

One of the very first books I read from Moon Books had to do with spirit animals and animal magic, and as a wolf I definitely need the comfort of the forest. This book isn’t just an instruction manual (like so many of these type of books are) it cuddles you up in forest and that for me is priceless.

I am lucky enough to have the follow up books to this first gem, and I am excited to start on my next adventure with lady Draco. I strongly recommend this book and probably will ( I’m pretty sure) the rest of her books. I also found her page Traditional Witchcraft so go have a look at that too.

 

In terms of style I enjoy that she is more of a story teller like I mentioned earlier. It also makes me happy that old lore is a recurring topic and that we get to learn and bathe in the wonders of things that we will possibly never be able to fully comprehend.

I think I have exhausted my thesaurus and just writing this review makes the hairs on my body stand up in excitement and admiration.

 

Definitely worth the time it took to get to this book.twwf

Before Goodbye

That morning she didn’t expect to wake. In fact she’d planned to never awake again. It was sunny, her head hurt a little, but apart from the head hurt, it didn’t feel like much of a failed suicide attempt.

Her food was cold when she got around to eating it; to her surprise her appetite had made an unexpected reappearance. She enjoyed every bite, and things seemed to be better. She mused that perhaps all it took was the bravity of facing her own mortality without fear… it was only after she had cleared her plate that she decided to get up and face the day.

Her phone rang as she was about to open the door. Luckily she hadn’t, because her mother’s worried voice echoed as she listened, not able to coherently respond to the rehearsed delivery of bad news.

It was meant to be her death, instead… the other got it right.

That other with the brown eyes and childish smile.

The other with her favorite lips pasted on almost perfectly… that other… no longer existed.

Suddenly the tasty food re exited without warning and her head threw her almost instantly in her own vomit. She was waiting for tears, or a heart attack or something that was other than the empty vessel she now related to.

The other … memory.

The girl in room  3 had no pills left to drown her life in and bleeding out would take too long.

The girl in room 3 buried both herself and the other that instant. She cut out the struggles and with a new clarity she realized it would have been better to breathe before saying goodbye.

Circles Of Meaning, Labyrinths of Fear – A Review

‘The twenty two relationships of a spiritual life and culture – and why they need protection’

Yet another from Moon Books’gems!

This wasn’t an easy book to put down, yet it was necessary to do that from time to time in order to get the full message of it!

We all know that there are certain ways of different cultures and religions, including sacred rights, days of celebration, and fewer know that even some day to day routines are also rooted in the sacred.

This concise eye-opener could not have come at a better time, for our generation is possibly among the most fearful the universe will ever experience!

The pages and messages and lessons are honestly comforting for a time when the silence is scarce and the noise is utterly scary.

‘The Good Life’ as Mr. Brendan Myers describes it, becomes less of an abstract, almost unreachable idea and simplifies it in ways that once read cannot be forgotten.

Learning the relationships between yourself and the landscape, the neighborhood, animals, doctors… to name a few; is the lightest, most pleasant melody of an alarm that wakes you to discover that you have just begun experiencing life at its true pace and meaning for the very first time.

A must read for the truth seeking soul.

Circles of Meaning, Labyrinths of Fear – For those of you more curious here’s the link that will help get hold of this one.

Love and Light!

Canis Lupus