I grow up in Provence
It’s warm, I live outside often
My mum is so feminine and beautiful, and the word beautiful doesn’t send my stomach into knots
She encourages soft gentleness
She wears pastels and flower print
Sandals and flowing skirts
She wraps my cheeks in a silk scarf coloured lavender
And I spin and kiss her cheek which has soft blush pressed on
We hold hands
She reads Daftar Slot Online Terbaik dan Terpercaya
And tells me of foreign lands
She tells me stories of love
And teaches me it’s ok to love a man
I am held and honoured
I am encouraged to be me, softly and fierce fully me
I wake up. Wind and Rain hammers the window so hard it bends. Doors slam, I’m sneered at, sugar bowl flies towards me and I realise I will never know that fantasy.
She sits in the car refusing to come in the house, I clean trying to earn her love.
She lies numbed out on the floor on sugary tea and soaps. She sleeps and silent dread suffocates the air as I feel her resentment. Everything I am, seems to provoke her.
I am motherless, she disappears, I am alone, I am afraid.
Confused and ashamed of my femininity.
It feels innate yet foreign.
Polluted yet pure
Lavender yet bloodied Slot Online Terbaik.
Mum I long for you
I weep for you
I don’t know where your pain ends and I begin
When you didn’t recognise me, no poetic words came out of me, no initial tears but to inhale a silent “Fuck Me.” Knowing I was entering this chapter. I give up controlling the pain around me and that feels free. The imagined head scarf ruffles in the wind.
How can I truly become my women if our mother daughter relationship is the source of my deepest pain?
I heard someone talk of how their mum would hold them up and tell them they are beautiful and it shook me awake, knowing my first thoughts of myself have always been turning the lights out at the hospital.
Screaming, eczema, greedy, fat, ringlets, ugly. Was I that or was I shamed?
I think my eyes of innocence were seen as eyes of seduction, and I am left even confused if my eyes are right or not. I was only using them to see the world then.
Sense of self muddied, never lavender.
I will wear lavender hair scarves
I will think of you, a life chained that should have been as free as your scarves and Laura Ashley skirts.
I mourn for your cartwheels that turned into dads laundry maid
I mourn for your stunning artwork turned into soul crushing office jobs that plenished his narcissistic projects.
I mourn for your beauty, never nurtured or seen or held by him.
I mourn for your little girl never mothered either.
It’s all sad but I promise you I will try and end this cycle with God. You gave me a single fire spark in my belly amongst all the shaming and I thank you for that.
I will take it and set a forest fire alight with truth. It will smell of Slot Gacor and the hue will be pastels of purple and no shame will exist.
For now I will take some cuttings of the fragrant dark lavender bush from the road towards Glenda’s, the one that I strim a small piece through my fingers, and pluck and crush and smell in my hands to bring me 2 minutes of calm and restoration before diving inside myself. And I will plant it in my kitchen as a sign of the start of the reclamation.
Looking for ways to survive it
Coffee, tea, starch and carbs
Tv, Instagram, movies and sleep
Fantasy, delusion, denial and out of body
Yet all of that only leads me to feeling so lonely
God help me choose the narrow way
To feel it all
I am not humble to my grief
I am fighting it tooth and nail
Please reach in and help soften me
Please help guide me away from distraction
And into reality
No. matter. how. much. it. hurts.
It is with my mustard grain of faith I pray
I hold my heart up to you God
Fleshy, bruised, damaged and sore.
Sunken and aching.
Hollow and rigid in parts.
Angry and sad, mostly I am sad right now Lord.
I’m terrified of my grief, help me soften into it like the little child you made me to be.
Help me know that my me is:
Sensitive not over dramatic
Expressive not a show off
A Performer not demonstrative
Damaged not a nuisance
Empathetic not pathetic.
Revive me Lord.
Resuscitate me God.
Enliven my flesh so it reflects your love.
Take the charred, bruised and sunken hollow parts of my heart and breathe life back into me.
No matter how much they try and dampen my keys with their foot on the pedal.
No matter how much they try and mute my strings.
They can take away the bow to my hearts violin and yet I will still express my sorrow, despite it all. With you and because of your love.
No matter how much they try and dim my light,
Let it not go out my Lord, my God.
As Sampha said, no one knows me like the piano in my mother’s home.
Help me understand my parents choices and not take it all on as my own fault.
The shame and worry I feel when I express your gift of music you gave to me is an error, help me know that and release it fully my Lord.
Help me embrace my me fully. And see my person as a gift not a problem.
Help me not be bitter about it all, help me stay as soft as a baby.
Help me restore my lost melodies, my hidden caverns, my sorrow and my goodness.
Restore the longings I felt God in Venice’s piazzas, France’s alps, Scotlands purple heather, the lonely apartments I’ve been lost in. The lonely, loud cities.
Restore the unspoken words, the unwritten agreements and the broken hearts from my past relationships.
Restore me God
Revive me God
Resuscitate me my Lord.
In my aching heart I write to you, you who is only feeling and good, you who will not ever chastise my sorrow but instead hold and soothe me through it. This is all so unknown, so scary and I am terrified.
Who would I be God if I had a mother that loved me?
To know love and gentleness over a sneer.
To play music freely with her not watching over me
To embrace my femininity with none of their jealousy.
I have worn baggy black jumper dresses for 15 years and yet I still don’t hide enough
Somehow in my bocoran slot gacor malam ini blackness and hiding I am still too much?
God, I saw your petals of love rain down on me
I felt the grace of you and yet it feels too unbearable
How can such contrast exist, and why?
I do not understand why you put me with her?
I am so angry and lost and confused.
I do not understand your plan God, please show me, guide me, direct me so I understand.
I am exhausted from holding in my breath
Always waiting for women to hurt me inside my heart, inside my chest.
I am so angry I couldn’t say no, and just went back for more and more
I cant even blame anyone for this, I seem to want their scorn.
God please show me your mothering touch,
please show me that my me is not too much.
I love you. And my heart breaks to know you
Life sometimes feels like it breaks you
But my best friend, true parent God, let it break me till nothing fake is left in me
Let it break me till I can barely breathe a false breathe
Let it break me so the rage leaves my body like steam out my mouth and soul and evaporates far into the atmosphere to never hurt another again
Let it break me so my limbs know no more stress, no more fright, so that I am no longer bound up by expectations and failures
Let it break me so that my diaphragm can finally drop and not be held up taught in terror
Let it break me until every error of love ever taught inside me is shattered
And please Lord let all of the broken breaks, heaving heartaches and mis-steps and miss-takes, leave such shattered pieces exposed so that they glisten in your sun
And let your suns light help me find every why, and revive the shards into molten liquid gold
Which forms into a song and love so full that it can go on forever and join hands across fires anywhere in these worlds
God let me know love
Let me know song
Let me know sorrow so deep I know your melody of love
Let me know shame so hot I know true compassion
Let me see my own sins and scars, scrapes and scratches, bumps and bruises with a microscope so I never judge another
Let me own every emotion of hurt and all the ways I was cut in my soul, so I do not bleed anymore on those who never hurt me
Let me know my own pain like a well studied map that leads to the treasure
The treasure that is truth, the treasure that is you
You are the pot of Gold, the light and my True North
You are every pure element and can wash away all of my impurities
Gold yet water, light yet you reflect all the darkness to give us the chance to transmute it
You whisper and yet your laws are as clear and loud as a bird
You hold me in an embrace but only when I want you
Force does not exist in your vocabulary
Help me bend my head and my heart to you and nestle it under your wing, instead of jut my jaw out with pride and falsehoods
Help me soften and surrender, so I can be revived by your love.
Is it possible for the human heart to shatter?
Is it possible for every blood cell to turn into ash?
A once flourishing red heart now an empty fireplace of burned out white coal and grief
Is it possible for the human heart to break in two and separate its parts?
Will it then float around as two separate pumps in the body?
Two chambers of oxygen, empty, struggling to breathe and pump life
Never together always broken apart
Working but not well
Beating out of sync
Valves closed tight and tangled up
God only you can resuscitate my heart as us humans seem to only break each others
I am a writer not writing
Spreadsheets and nothingness instead of a pen replaced
I am a singer not singing
My voice lives in Ursula and Titan’s cave
If I sing she will disapprove
So I don’t dare sing a note let alone an Aria
I am a dancer not dancing
My limbs have frozen like when Gunther shot Corelli in Cephalonia
I am a thinker not thinking
Dads voice is loud, my own brain is eroding
I wrote a goodbye to you
I felt like I was being dipped deeper in acid, my metal shine corroding
I am a joker not joking
Women’s scorn became too loud
I am a hopeless romantic not romancing
My last relationship saw me drown
I am a reader not reading
Thoughts and screens race with no relief
I am a mother not mothering
From an abortion and a weight of associated grief
I am a friend barely reaching out
So busy figuring my own shit out
I am an animal lover and vegan
With guilt, hurt and allergies from being born to a farming house
I am madly and deeply in love with you God
But I barely let it show as I was taught to believe in you is ridiculous
I long to talk of you God over fires and camping hikes
But I stay in small job sin small cities spending money on what is frivolous
I am a deep, fiery, feisty soul
Vivacious to my core
Staying alone in my room
Paralysing myself – God, my heart is sore.
And that had absolutely nothing, zero to do with me.
But was all about how you wanted me to be the carrier of your seed.
As you’d read somewhere it would affect women’s pregnancies.
You expect me to carry your child.
Whilst you’ve never once made me smile?
You want me to be a carrier of your lineage.
While you want and watch my dreams to die?
You want my womb yet not my soul,
to create your bloodline and control my life?
Want to use me and never allow me to burn bright?
Misogyny runs deep.
Deeper than deep.
I have scars on my arms from the frustration deep,
I have life unlived frustration deep.
I have ghosts and voices in my sleep frustration deep.
Sitting on piles of unreleased albums deep.
Sitting on a burning thirsty soul frustration deep.
Sitting on screams of agony deep.
Sitting on my mums unpainted canvas deep.
Sitting in her unbuilt studio deep,
That dad promised to build her but never intended to deep.
Sitting on feelings of seeing mums bright soul waste away to nothing but a modern day depressed slave deep.
Sitting on my grandmas beaten face frustration deep.
Recycling the cycle of my mother frustration deep.
While I learned of my fathers unfaithfulness frustration deep.
While I lose faith in humanity frustration deep.
As my father still tries to control me frustration. Scream.
But sure, I will just shut up, let my dreams die and just carry your seed?
For what? so I can let my resentment and unfulfilled dreams be spat out on my baby while she weeps?
Just like my own mother did to me, so I’ve lived a life of self hatred see?
Scared of every women hating me so I stay so small, dumbed down and weak?
Can you not see what you are doing to me?
Fuck this I just need to scream.
Truth my best friend,
my breaker of chains.
I wish I had known you more for most of my days.
I wish I’d been your best friend and partner in crime,
I wish we’d held hands as I walked and always been entwined.
You’re setting me free, breaking me from my pains and my chains.
You are helping me be wild and free but in the realest of ways.
It’s overwhelming and shocking, all these lies I’ve been taught.
Often times I find myself broken, holding you on the floor.
But your magic within, your strong honest sword,
cuts straight through the bullshit that’s been keeping me wrought.
I was a captive to lies, a slave to power play so abusive,
it turned me from me, into an addict caught using.
You’ve come into my life and are making me true again.
No more hard heart, no more pretending seducing.
I stumble and fall backwards, make mistakes and self destruct.
But nothing can shake the fact I’ve felt the beauty of life, with you in my hand’s clutch.
You broke through the ice, shattered the confusion.
You help show me what is good and what is mud sinking in delusion.
I was in cycles and cycles and cycles of pain.
Destroying myself and others around me again.
I lost myself to dead end jobs, seeking approval from mum,
if I stay small maybe then she will not tell me that my me is too much.
Lies spoke ‘you are beneath, look up to her ways,’
even if they make no sense her power always reigned.
The lies told me I’m a fuck up, a show off, a clown.
A flirty too tall girl, born seeking a crown.
Inherently wrong, inherently bad.
Inherently awful, annoying when sad.
I’ve hated this hell, this derision this torture.
Before I knew you I invited it and women accepted in plethora.
Truth I love and adore you, I honour and care.
I need to learn more of you, you are so abundant to share.
You make everything right.
You make everything good.
You are intrinsically bright.
Your are intrinsically just so good.
Truth when I don’t know you,
when I break from your hand.
When I’m confused and in doubt,
I feel I’m wading in sinking sands.
I feel lost without you,
I don’t know where to turn.
You pull me out from the swamps.
Rescue me from that Islay boggy burn.
Truth please stay by my side.
Please hold onto my hand.
Please walk with me in struggles,
I will seek you out when I stand.
You connect me to me.
Connect me to God.
You are the way and the channel,
to all that is holy when I’m lost.
I cant believe I’ve never really known your stunning powerful Grace.
Cant believe we’ve been so fissured, arrogant men took your place.
The loss from your hand,
feels so sad and so real.
I became a puppet to dad,
my soul he very nearly did steal.
But Truth you came along,
like a best friend when drowning.
Speaking sense with such love,
giving hugs that have hope.
I want to learn to honour you more.
And let you help me reconnect my sorrow to my soul.
I will cling to you in the shallows,
to bring me back to my parent, my God.
Thank you for being there for me,
you are my one truest love.
Written January 2021