Hyper Fixating Is All Fun And Games When You're Working On A Project Or Cleaning Your House Or Consuming

If you hurt over every little thing, all you'll ever do is hurt

Name me not Cassandra

Name me not Cassandra for my voice it must be heard.

Even if you bind my mouth with fabric and brush away my word.

I claim not a higher wisdom for vanity or spite.

Only a point of view from far below your height.

I am cursed with the experience of an unwelcome hand.

And through this lens I now see my sister who too have been touched by man.

You may turn and shield your ears from me, laugh away my proof

But my mouth, it will not waver in telling you the truth.

Name me not Cassandra for your Helen is on her way.

She brings chaos and together we as women will make you pay.

It's sun down now. The early stages of it, where the sky is still full of light and color. The clouds are thick an mountinous. And completely still in the sky.

The big lumbering breaths are blushed pink around the edges. Deep scores of grey over every curve and crevice. Dense and almost palpable.

It looks like a painted back drop.

And I have no where else to look.

We’ve spent so much time describing people as beautiful things, I think it’s time we try describing things as beautiful people.

I've been here for a while but I really shouldn't stay.

There's an ache in my joints, makes it hard to get away.

I guess I was waiting for you to come and rescue me.

But you never even noticed and now I cannot leave.

@milknosugar-youtube

In response to your beautiful untitled song. This one is for you.

They are often less than a minor inconvenience.

I wipe them from my brow like sweat. Pluck them from my head like stray hairs. Toss them to the corners of my room.

The more persistent may take hold of my nerves.

I conjure imaginary fire to burn them away. Lock them and boxes and toss them from my window. Slap them from my skin like pesky bugs.

Only active movement can banish them. It's a temporary fix though. They still inch into my head waiting to pounce on me with violent scenes and repulsive images.

My thoughts aren't always my own, but my actions are.

Coming down

funny how distance looks different sometimes. When I'm sitting back to the dresser, watching my desk come into focus, much closer than anything's been in weeks.

There's carpet under my feet and the hum of a box fan off to the side. Light looks different, brighter where it plays on the reflective surfaces. Throwing overlapping shadows across the room.

And I'm suddenly aware of my own skin where it stretches over my knuckles. Tingly and colder than the night air.

Someones shifted the focus, dialed it up a little. And suddenly I'm here again.

I got good at leaving; but I'm asking you to stay.

These words have been with me for so long they aren't easy to say.

I'm afraid if I speak them to the empty air there won't be anything left of me.

I haven't tried before; I just watched them leave.

So I'm hoping this time, if I give these words to you.

You'll take their place in my chest and say you love me too.

Damned if you do

Damned if you don't

Wish there were more options

Than will

Or won't

I was never meant to have a body.

My tethered little pet.

So much responsibility to look after.

So much washing and clothing and tucking away.

I was never meant to rot so slowly.

From diseases, I will never know.

So much tending to my body needs.

So much aching and soothing and drugging away.

I was never meant to hold it's hand.

Like a mother holds a child.

So much guarding it needs.

So much hiding and cherishing and giving away.

I was never meant to have a body.