December 31st, 2013

Whether it is kept, or whether it is false, a promise must be made. It is so important to say something to the one who seeks comfort. So, say that you will stay forever, even if you plan to depart tomorrow. Say that you will love them for all eternity, even when another’s scent lingers on your skin. Love makes starving infants out of us. It is enough that we are naked; must we also be made to hold our aching bellies?

This is it, kids. Grab hold of the dog, and listen up. Know that I am still queen of the underworld. Ignore that I have climbed to the top of the mountain several times, only to be told it was a hill. What is important, is that I made the attempt under the impression I was conquering dangerous terrain. Ignore that I killed Hades, only to be told it was the doorman. I struck with determination and conviction.

The hellhound is not coming back. He has told me this in dreams, in that same language I know so well. He says it is time to be well-formed, and fill my height to the top. My cursive is bad, and my confidence is worse. I have fallen off the highest wall, so I know the pain of breaking every bone. It is not fair to say I fear pain, only that I seek to avoid it. Running and hiding are not crimes, but it is not wise to make a job out of this. I soak in what I think I must, flatten out my feet, and speak with authority. I take the sticky children‘s hands, tell the new dog he is a good boy, and I march forward.

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December 31st, 2013

October 10th, 2013

You are reversed, King of Swords. Drowning in your own confusion. Realized on the first of June, and disgraced by the authority of the blood moon. There is no love so great, it will remain when there is nothing left to hang on to, but a trembling hand. We are made to take, and forced to give.

The ravens say that even Odin could not prevent Ragnarok. If you know a rebirth is to your benefit, you will still do anything you can to prevent the pain that change brings. Creature of habit, self-saboteur. The heavens produce blessings, and there you are, hiding in the attic. The air is musty, the humidity hangs heavy. Love is carried in the left wing, and success in the right. They beat to get your attention, and still you hide. What is an offering, other than what you asked for, or what it is believed you wanted.

All this time, I have spent as the Hanged Man. I have sought clarity, and strength. There was hope that the sacrifices I made, would amount to something. Yet, when I notice a desire is within reach, I writhe until I have turned myself away from it. I am scared. I am always so scared. I scream to feel powerful. Destroy to feel in control. Do not trust, never being taught how to lovingly surrender.

October 10th, 2013

February 21st, 2013

It isn’t so much that I will run, as much as it is that I might turn. Or will I rupture from the weight of the undefined? Ashes cover a recent history that does not feel lived out by me, but an usurper who knew she would abandon everything once it was made too complicated to sort out. I leap over fortresses which were once human, once people I wanted to know. We will all make of ourselves something inaccessible and impenetrable.

Learn and then forget. Recover and then relapse. See with absolute clarity, and then gouge out your eyes. Make of yourself an army, then engage in friendly fire. You become a god, and then the power will consume you.

I know well the comforts of a place with no light. The scent damp earth gives off can be so soothing.

The hellhound is tired. We will hike tomorrow, so that he may feed his soul the nourishment it requires. To see him so easily make his way through what has tamed many, taken some, is a sight to behold. He will see the ocean for the very first time. It is when Ruey leads me that I am happiest.

February 21st, 2013

December 14th, Year of the Moon

“How is it going, Margie?”

“Great! Bill’s got a new job, we’re vacationing in Boca Raton soon, and I don’t experience vaginal dryness anymore. The law of attraction is really manifesting miracles for me.”

“Good, good. How does that work?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Sally. I don’t think I want you to be happy, so I won’t be telling you.”

Locked away in a dungeon of my own design, I tire of being trapped and terrorized by no one at all. I am familiar enough with the structure’s weak points, to just break through. I grow strong, only to fracture my own legs, soon after. This self-loathing is physically changing me, emotionally damaging me, spiritually limiting me. There is no reasoning with learned helplessness.

Fear’s purpose has been served. Now, it can do nothing but spin me into sadness. But I am more a bride to terror, than I am a chosen friend. I have never been very good at leaving anything behind. The dissolution of a union requires absolute certainty and unwavering courage. And, what if I never marry again?
The problem is not fear, but fear in excess.

The dictator has built a vacation home in my chest. Then, a migraine said to me, “If you do not use your head, I will take it whole.” After that, my throat said, “You do not use your voice at all, these days, so I will fill it with infection.”
Oh, this little ache factory that is my body.

December 14th, Year of the Moon

September 6th, Year 22

What is fear, other than a red sphere that encapsulates me. It binds me to the starting point, torturing me by projecting images of what could be, if only I had the courage to defy its authority. I cannot pick up the knife to act against it, even as it strangles me.

I do not want to be on the cross, whispering my torment, always a yawn away from a revelation. There is no sight more pathetic than that of someone publicly blood-letting, through a forced placement of an ill-fitting crown of thorns.

I stay inside this dark house with its cold comfort, because I can afford no other. With the windows blackened inside and out, it is impossible to see the outside world, to compare what I have with what others have, to think there could truly be anything more than this.

September 6th, Year 22