hiding and hidden

her lies are prophylactic
to protect her devoted catholic
mother from the fertile truth
her daughter has tasted
my forbidden fruit
I’ve seen her naked and panting
I’m tired of hiding and being hidden
she kept me in the closet
now she’s done I’m the skeleton
she need never admit we did it
in secret as if I never existed
it sucks to be so temporary
and so easy to forget
I’ve been erased even replaced
I’m tired of hiding and being hidden

perfect fit

how could she not lie
when she didn’t see
any alternative
for the emptiness
now someone else’s
turn to give
but now she gets
I wasn’t a perfect fit
she has the eyes of a queen
for the size of things between
an agent provocateur
radically planted her feet in the air
in order to feel something down there
greater than ever before
yes it’s depressing
but I can’t sink further
I can’t go any deeper
can’t fill her with pleasure
because there’s nothing more
I gave everything
and I was found wanting
she was still found wanton
and I couldn’t
bridge the gap within
to be with me she stretched a bit
but now she’s stretched to the limit

something about groups

something about groups
and the layers they overlap
over lies and half truths
each new member
becomes a weaver
of tangled threats
and concealed regrets
each old member
trying to tie off knots
of how right they were
back where they linger
memories and fantasies
in woven wild patterns
that resurface and recur
as if what has past
will come around again
and that’s the whole truth
for sure

inventing scenarios

inventing scenarios in my mind
of things unseen and unheard
thinking they apply to me and her
she said goodbye for good reasons
yet I imagine that she reconsiders
leaving and forgives my failings

inventing scenarios in my mind
of things unseen and unheard
thinking of her sighs and moans
in bed with boys more handsome
and more skilled than I ever was
what makes me think they are boys?

inventing scenarios in my mind
of things unseen and unheard
thinking I see them and hear them

she sings

she lacks certain discretionary powers
like a bull in a china shop
she barrels in blindly
eyes and mouth wide open
with ears that do not hear

she sings without subtlety
hitting
each
note
like
a
punching
bag
but believes she’s helping others sing
she arrives at each new note

like an electron

jumping orbitals

but she believes she’s singing
when she’s really just
a cheap electric keyboard
that can’t hold two notes
or any sound in between
and that’s an apt metaphor
for what I really mean

complex

Thing is I’ve got humble parts of me, but I’m also a really arrogant bastard too. And, I do plenty of self-sacrifice, but I can also be really selfish. I’m complex, by golly!

stand up

I definitely want to stand up. But, it’s always seemed so complicated to do. It does seem to be the work I’m on right now.

outted

I’ve been hiding and hidden. My family pretty much knows, but hers didn’t ever. Her family didn’t know about her, nor about me … and there were lots of aspects of her life that I didn’t feel welcome in, too. I rarely got to visit her at work, and she didn’t have any pictures of me on her desk, I know. But, I also avoided putting anything on my website that suggested we were living together or that we were pagan, because her family might have read that stuff.

My family wouldn’t care really one way or the other. My mother thought it was amusing that she wouldn’t tell her mother about living with me. My mother’s done things that I don’t even dream of doing, so she’s hard to shock or surprise.

For me, I don’t talk about it much with my family because I don’t feel that close to them. I mean they are familiar, but it’s complicated to be open and revealed to them.

She pretty much outed me to one of my little brothers the night before we broke up without seeming to care if I minded or not, which I thought was a little strange given how tightly held she was for family. It didn’t really matter to me that she did, but it was a little surprising. But, I also talked to my mother about the spiral dances and the BCWC visioning, so she pretty much knows, if not all the details. She said, “So, is witchcamp a thing where only people who are witches go; or, is it a place where anyone comes?” And, I said, “Well, I’m sure anyone could come, but really the people that go to witchcamp aren’t just checking it out.” So, I didn’t really come out and say I was a witch, but she’s a pretty smart person and has to have by that point figured it out given all the stuff I talk about.

I once was in a discussion group about LGBT issues in grad school and when the others in that conversation said that I didn’t know what it was like to be in the closet I got to tell them about how she and I were secretly living together because she thought her mother would disown her if we were found out; that she would not be allowed to stay in contact with her siblings.

When I visited her in MN, we couldn’t kiss or hardly be alone in the same room together because of the charade and her mother. Of course, as it turns out, one of her younger sister is now openly living with her boyfriend, well, they are engaged, but not married.

It was always in the back of my mind that if she really thought we’d be together that she’d have been willing to tell her mom, but that she kept it secret in part because she didn’t think it would last; in spite of what she said to me about it. But, that’s pretending I can mind-read, and that’s not really a helpful way of thinking; then, or now.

pillar of strength

I have a hard time with my part in the the work, because I know that I wasn’t there in my relationship. I was so caught up in my own stuff and locked in quicksand that I couldn’t manage to escape. I really, really messed things up in that regard.

But, I look back and wonder if anything would have made a difference really. I know I didn’t imagine everything, it’s just that I couldn’t deal with it or respond in a healthy way. But, she kept telling me that my fears were not real, and yet, here I am. I know it took both of us to get here.

I was so looking forward to getting through the bankruptcy and all that so that I could spend years making it up to her. But, it took the break-up for me to start really working on the depression and anxiety, so if I honestly don’t know if I’d have started therapy for depression without having broken up.

She was a pillar of strength that I roped myself to in order to weather the storm. But, instead of steering out of the storm, I stayed in it … until I no longer had her to hold me up.

I look back at some of the things I’ve done and just can’t believe how bizarre they seem to me now. So many things that I should have been aware where unhealthy. I mean, I knew better, but couldn’t change my behaviour.

But, after the break-up, a few days after when I started to work the depression angle for real, it seemed like everything changed for me. It was like I suddenly had clarity on things that didn’t make sense before. It was wild how different things were.

But, when it comes down to it: I failed to do my part of the work in the relationship and I have to accept responsibility for the consequences of that, even if I want to wail and moan that it’s not fair I ended up where I am.

the response

The fear is based on real stuff. What’s not working is the response. The response isn’t constructive to what he wants and hopes for. Goddess knows I’ve been there. I was right too. She was leaving me; she’d been trying to figure it out for who knows how long. But, instead of doing what would have helped, I just spiraled further and further into unhealthy places.

I have to believe there’s a way for people in love to be secure enough to have that kind of independence; but, I haven’t figured it out yet. I mean, I suspect that I’m too unhealthy to be there myself. If I’m ever in a relationship again, I can hardly imagine that I could be healthy in it without preemptive counseling of some kind. That’s not something I’m looking forward to dealing with, really:

“Hey, you’re really awesome. Would you wanna go out to dinner, or a movie … and then start couples counseling with me?”

withdraw

I know that one of the things that she hated was how I would withdraw. But, sometimes, when things got intense, I knew I was in an unhealthy spiral and I couldn’t figure out how to be in the conversation and get out of the spiral. So, the only thing I could find to do was withdraw, hoping that space would help.

Of course, it didn’t ever help, really. I was just running away from pain, pain that I wouldn’t stand up to.

So, I mean, the withdrawal, for me at least, was about avoiding pain; but, it was also about not having a healthy response, or knowing how to stop broken communication from staying broken.

even the neighbors hear

he thinks
when he opens his mouth
everyone can hear
only he’s hard of hearing
so he shouts
when he’s loud enough
he hears himself
even the neighbors hear
that he’s not thinking
when he opens his mouth

predatory

he seems friendly
but his polyamory
is predatory
he wants to meet
because you’re fresh meat

he greets you like a plate of meat
he looks forward to greedily eating
he doesn’t love or care for you
he cares about the novelty of nailing you
and he loves only himself

is that really in service
to you
to help you find yourself
by having him relieve his itch
in your privates
is his indiscriminate lust
really flattering?

are you willing
to be the object
of his addiction to skin
and objectification
of you as just another
receptacle for semen?

180 degrees

I really have come almost 180 degrees around on depression since I started doing the 5-HTP, and found, to me surprise, that anxiety, worry and fear, have been huge for me. I didn’t previously realize that these were not part of my depression, but something else. And, when I’d get anxious, I’d get depressed. And, when I’d get depressed, I’d get anxious about being depressed. Or something. Wild ride.

I feel like the depression is still there, but it’s not that big of a deal. It’s the worry and fear that really kill me inside. And, I tend to run from that kind of pain, trying to hide from it … but, of course, I take it with me where ever I go!

So, I’m working on standing up and not running away inside when I’m anxious. Part of that was going to the Oly spiral, since Samhain has so many connections to what she and I shared, not to mention that she plays a big part in the ritual. I was able to stay in it, and face all that anxiety and worry. But, also had the legitimate sorrow about everything to work through at the same time.

muck about me

In the back of my head, I keep thinking about marrying myself. Maybe I could do this as part of the 13th spiral in Oly? I don’t want to be selfish and make it all about me, but maybe I could have a part in the ritual that leaves behind the muck about me and steps into a new life of loving myself? That’s a good samhain thing isn’t it? Plus, to have it witnessed by my ancestors and mighty, beloved dead?

re-negotiate

I have a contract to re-negotiate. I did that a bit already, but I need to really work it out. Somehow I’ve come to the belief that when I was very young, around the time of my car accident, I arranged a contract with, who I’ve come to think of as, Ma’at that agreed to exchange happiness for being alive. I have carried this idea that in order to live I had agreed that every happy thing in my life would be taken away.

That’s a really sucky contract, especially for a kid to have to deal with. A partner once remarked, “I don’t think if there are powers like that in the Universe, that they would make a kid agree to a contract like.” Maybe that’s true, and She only made the contract because I asked for it, and She’s not the one holding me to it: I am.

So, I had the chance in a visioning/meditation to visit with divinity and have a conversation. I brought up this contract and I’m sure we can come to some new understanding. But, I need to do more on this.

I need to either just refuse the contract, repudiate it completely; or, I need to arrange something new.

malek taus

he comes
and then
he leaves you
spent, exhausted
but wanting more

if you could handle it
he’d be ready

his wand is the axis
of the world
and he churns
in you
turning his precious substance
into pearls
that he leaves behind
in you

these pearls become stars
that quiver from your skin
into the dark night sky

produce aisle

Just tell me when, and I’ll
meet you in the produce aisle
smelling of pomegranates and limes

this time I’ll bring kisses
and you’ll forget the times I didn’t