insidethecrypticbluemind

Latest Posts by insidethecrypticbluemind

if you haven’t, i hope you fall in love with life again. i hope you wake up with a happy sigh, hope you feel like doing things you enjoy, hope you are surrounded by people who make you feel safe, hope you smile at yourself in the mirror.

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i think so much of life is just finding out there are a thousand different ways to lose things.

Every gift i’ve given was left to wilt. My love, my time, my trust. I wish the flowers I put in your hair didn’t fall out so easily. You don’t believe I love you, but it was all I was made for.

is growing up about seeing the things you loved ripped from your hands? Is it about losing everything to time? Having feelings and memories taken over by people who never understood them? Is it about watching your childhood die? Because I want to find a world that loves what I love, but all I see are people who want to destroy it. I am so fucking tired.

I come back here when things are hard. So in spite of previous posts, please believe me when i say,

things have been better.

I’ve always said things do get better. And I’ve always been right about that. You know, he’s repeated those words to me. That brought a smile to my face. And I am still right.

I’m thinking of the nights when I used to break apart in my bed. A pain in my heart so palpable it scarred my skin. And then days passed. Years even. And the wounds healed and the days were bright and I found happiness again.

I haven’t felt pain like that again. And I don’t think I ever could. I know too deeply that I am beautiful and loved, for that ache to return.

It does get better.

Always.

~

However, I still get tired. And frightened. And sad. Right now I feel that.

The world feels like it crumbles beneath my fingertips. I believe in love. In safety. And my assurances fall away like dry sand. Every day scrapes by like a wounded soldier, dragging himself home.

I apologize for being so dramatic, to you the empty void. I’ve been missing love for so long.

And It’s always felt too good for me.

You know, in church we used to sing hymns? Horrible things. Monotone and droning. And there they’d weave their messages for me. A wretch they sang, working my mouth with needle and string. Sewing words in hungry earth, that blossomed into an endless fear.

A wretch. That I was not good enough for any type of love, except for love from a being you can not see, can not hear, and can not touch.

And my fear grows. Am I loved?

Am I loved? Am I loved? Am I loved? Am I loved? Am I loved? AmIlovedamilovedamilovedamiloved oh please god let me be loved.

happiness kind of feels like an effervescent state of being that is endlessly removed from me

i still have hope though I suppose

god things have been so hard recently

the world is a scary place when you are a small and edible thing

hey sweet pea, can we have a complication of poems/excerpts that make you fall in love with love and all mushy and gooey inside?

casey reiland my boss informs me that moose are dying \\ james baldwin if beale street could talk (via @morepeachyogurt) \\ virginia woolf the years (via @weltenwellen) \\ keaton st. james rural boys watch the apocalypse \\ sayaka saeki bloom into you \\ james baldwin giovanni's room \\ peter gizzi lines depicting simple happiness (via @typewriter-worries) \\ @typewriter-worries \\ lizzie cernik how we met: 'it's like waking up to sunlight every day. i yearned for a soulmate - and i've found her' (via @havingrevelations) \\ jules ryan gravecleaner: "bloodwater" (via @springmyth) \\ @nobaracore \\ ladan lakshiri what does love mean? see how 4-8 year-old kids describe love \\ svetlana alexeivich voices from chernobyl (tr. keith gessen) [lyudmila ignatenko speaking about her husband, deceased firefighter vasily ignatenko] (via @papenathys) \\ aimee nezhukumatathil lucky fish: "baked goods" \\ thomas campbell \\ @soracities \\ vladimir nabokov in a letter to his wife véra, jul 8 1926 (via @saintesorciere) \\ anne carson recreation \\ victoria hannan kokomo \\ victoria hannan kokomo

kofi

I have officially been waiting here for 635 days.

nimona is the best movie i’ve ever seen and it was made for me personally.

sunlight come run away with me

please let’s find warm butterfly kisses in between the cool evening spaces of our lips

entwine fingers like flower crowns

god i gaze at the sky and there is simply a vast expanse that holds nothing but my dreams of you.

world? i am so happy as of late. The things that bothered me so much just aren’t. The fuck ups and things i hated are so far away. The fear i had! It’s distant!

I can sit here and observe this peaceful ocean, this lovely field of calm

Healing is worth the struggle :D

i just think about him so much

been craving some vanilla extract recently

one day i make a post declaring thoughts struck down to me by gods

the next i wanna talk about how if i were a little hamster i would simply grab my little feet and roll everywhere like i were the hamster ball that tried to contain me.

nothing can hold me

ive been through so much pain in my life. Inflicted with it. Helpless to stop it.

And I’m so angry and depressed right now. How dare the world hurt me this way. I was supposed to be given kindness and love- and instead i was tortured. Broken. Made an example of. Turned into nothing.

Everyone else has such consistent happiness within them. Like they have no question that they are loveable. How fucking dare the world take that stability away from me. I was to feel safe and good all the time.

Instead i went through horrific circumstances. People stood back and said, “that kid’s going to be fucked up for life”. And instead of STOPPING it i am now fucked up for life. And those who could? Yeah.. those who SHOULD’VE helped DIDN’T. And it’s as much their fault as it is the inflictor’s fault. The pricks.

To me now it seems that almost all people have parents who love them. Families that take care of them. I hate how my life lacks that. I hate how i SHOULD’VE had that and DIDN’T.

I even feel evil right now, speaking out into the void. Their words. Telling me i am Pretending to be a victim. My pain is my own fault, i am just what is wrong. Not them. Blame blame shame and guilt on me. Not them. And this enrages me when it is so clearly twisted and manipulative.

I feel evil still. Saying out loud the fucking TRUTH. I feel like my words will genuinely hurt someone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I know I am hurting and that this pain dies with me. No one else should ever have to feel this.

But that’s just it. MY WORDS ARE NOT HARMFUL. The guilt and gaslighting is STILL clinging to me. If I put a voice to my pain and actually say what happened, well means i’m hurting my abusers!!! Oh how DARE I hurt them by saying out loud what they fucking did to me. The liars say they want the truth. Ha.

For the void i will say it. The truth is I was robbed of a loving family. Of a happy childhood. Of kindness and love. I was not only ignored but also bullied mercilessly by people supposed to love me. And I am forced to carry this pain. I must carry this fucking horrible pain and loss. All the way to my grave. I should’ve had it better. And i didn’t.

Evil horrible people abused me.

I am a fucking victim of abuse.

I still don’t believe myself when i say that. I wasn’t abused in ways other people have- so it doesn’t count. It’s not enough abuse

But, These scars… they will last my life. They are real so anyone who says my abuse wasn’t abuse can FUCK off. (looking at you enabler family members .)

Other people had families. And love. I had a fucking posse of bullies. I was hated from the moment i could speak up. Three year old child treated like garbage.

No one else (besides other victims) carries these kinds of scars. Often i feel so alone among those who were loved.

They can live their peaceful blissful lives, happy to be loved and happy to love. I am happy for them. But the jealousy i have towards them too.. It fuels my anger at my abusers. They should’ve loved me. Treated me well. Not twisted me up and broke me and toyed and played and hit and sneered at and despised and grew disgusted with me.

World?

Void?

I am angry. And jealous. Why cant i go back and be loved? Where is the lost hours, days, of kindness? I was not shown affection.

I want to have been loved.

All i am left with is loss.

It makes me mad.

i crave a warm body. a gentle voice. and soft hands against my skin.

i am a miserable little me tonight

i am miserable.

it is a “cry in the shower” kind of day.

A “fill your ears with water and hug your knees close” kind of day.

And i am a miserable creature who had to sit down in the shower today.

This is the kind of day that eats up every ounce of energy you have. It leaves you breathless while you lie on your side, mixing the salt on your face with the salt in the sea.

It is not a nice ocean that greets me this morning.

He tells me there is an end to it somewhere.

All I see is more waves.

I am holding cold water to my chest. Hearing rain pound against my eardrums. Feeling more water batter my already bruised skin.

And I am so tired.

when does this all end.?

i am

so

tired.

thank you and i love you for being safe.

any use i had for my sanity is gone now.

Time to get funky.

Yes,

I often wonder if these frozen bones of mine could ever find warmth.

An empty bed does not ease me into an gentle rest.

And today, I found myself growing bitter with the frost. Food, water, light, sleep. Many questions. It is hard to know where my pain comes from.

Is this how bitter people are formed? Undergoing constant strife and feeling relief dangled and ripped away from them?

Or do they choose on some level, to become cruel or sharp.

I’ve been through pain. I am in pain right now. It is not the drowning I have felt before. More, a tugging sensation. Like night trying to pull away the dawn.

When i speak- It helps. I can put out all my worries and thoughts, and suddenly there are little strings to follow and find the problems that cause the worry.

I tell it to my love. For healing. But Saying so much pain. Will it cause him pain? Will it stop him from expressing his own? I want to take all the rough feelings he has, the anxiousness, the sad, the pain, and show him I love him along with all of them. And by showing him my own rough feelings, I hope he feels comfortable to show me all of his. But have i overdone it? Shared to many fleeting feelings? Do they make him anxious and worried? Does he hate me for them? Does he think this is all i have to offer??

Where is the line between expressing pain and wallowing in it?

I worry about my love. Is he mad. Is he happy? Is he secretly growing to despise me. Understanding more and more why I was deemed unlovable by those designated to love me. I want to shout! I can be more! I can be enough. Please give me time. I’ll be enough for you one day. Just please give me a chance to recover. I worry.

But I will not make these worries my reality.

I will not lose my gentleness.

My love, he has never asked anything of me, but to trust him. He’s a kind soul. Sweet and feisty and so strong but never scary. It is hard for us, to be so constantly far apart. I only want to ease his mind, and hold him close. I am okay today. And he is not. If only this vicious world would let me hold him. Perhaps that could soften the worries on his mind.

Why must life be so grating? It is not right. For us who have loved and us who have lost. We get no justice.

And yet,

I will not lose my love.

- - -

I am in a storm of emotion. Feeling little clarity. Scraps of thoughts battering my mind to anxiousness.

Why so much fear child?

Those gentle eyes in your head, offering to help quiet the storm. Kind words in your own voice, do not have to be the only ones you hear.

You are not alone. Give to others. Give it all. Take all they give back. You feel afraid?

You have nothing else to give?

Are you enough… with your raging fears… and constant problems?

Perhaps, those are not yours.

Is this even about me? How selfish am i? To keep all this kindness and never repay it. To receive all this love for my hardened heart. I am frozen my love. I am thawing. Am i too late? To know your love… I don’t feel i give enough. Do i give you enough love? I’m sorry for taking more than I give. I’m sorry for being unable to understand my worth to you. I am beautiful. I am sweet. These are things to give! My strangeness, my pain, my confused soul. These are things to hide.

and yet…

yet-

he says so much so quietly.

He is happier here, with me. I am not good at understanding such loveliness.

Evilness. Pain. Betrayal and dying. Such things consumed me and are not foreign to me. I know shitty things like the palms of my hand. They do not frighten me.

He says he loves all of me

He does not lie.

How strange…

almost frightening, to be loved so completely. Almost. I want to never leave him. I want to be everything for him. I have never been everything. But I’ve always been enough for him. I don’t understand … I don’t understand how when i am not all that i should be. I am not fixed yet. I am not perfect yet. I fuck up. I make a myriad of mistakes.

He still loves me. Always. How. How?

no matter what i say. What strange confused things I do. He never leaves. But i am not perfect!

why does he still love me when i haven’t fixed everything? me and all my flaws…

he loves

my imperfections.

I said once, to a different soul, that love was looking past all the imperfections. Yes the person has shaky hands and can’t spell to save their life. They get so confuddled and are shy and need dark rooms to stay in for hours. But they’re yours so you love them. (And they give such nice things! Like validation. Constant reassurance. To keep the loneliness at bay.) They serve their purpose. They are just a tool to gain happiness, and not… A person.

But my love… my love he…

He loves my shaky hands. He loves my confused mind and being smart and at the same time oh such a silly dumbass. He loves my jokes and my happiness. My voice and my heart. He sees so much loveliness in me. And in my human moments, he loves me.

For how painfully and constantly human i am- He loves me.

i feel

the stars are

singed

with the ash of burnt words

the night sky is

scorched

with longing for another

my bed is

burning

with the emptiness of being

without you.

my lover,

come home.

often,

i feel like a lost sailor in a vast expanse of ocean. A tiny dot of an entity, in comparison to the hugeness of the sea. At times, waves toss my small dinghy, water pouring over the sides, soaking me to my bone. I lie gasping for air in the face of such great loss and pain.

Other days I can lay against the side of the ship, hand dangling in the water, and allow myself rest. Soft shoals of sand shimmer far beneath the calming ebb of the waves, lulling me to sleep.

Raising my spyglass to my eye provides little to no insight into the future temperament of the sea.

Sometimes I wish i could delve deep into the waves themselves. Find the tides and currents that I would ride to new destinations. No longer confined to my tiny vessel. No longer at the mercy of that next storm.

I wonder if one day life will allow for more control over my direction. My destination.

I wish to navigate this sea with the adeptness not only of sailors, but of the creatures that live inside it. I want to make this chaos known. As familiar as a home.

But for now i am battered helplessly against walls of water. Tossed from moment to moment, clinging onto my ship for dear life. Praying for the next soft day. Constantly at the mercy of the ocean. Lost without a will of my own.

I grow tired of battling for an inch of direction. Maybe one day I will know this sea better.

(i think) october is going to bring with it the one I’ve been looking for.

This belief has gone very very poorly for me in the past.

I’m glad i don’t seem to learn from my past lol.

(but really he might be coming!!! my dear! i wish to hold him close.)

i hope he comes near.

we are always enough.

there are those who will say we will never be enough.

But the truth is we were always more than enough. And they hate us for it.

oh…

what a horrible thing it is, to be hated by the people supposed to love you.

gonna do a little harmonica crooning like some old timey introspecitve prospector who escaped the confines of their society to run away to a hill covered in flowers and lay underneath a big ol tree. I now long for my lover while basking in the sunshine and my newfound freedom. You know. It’s just your average bittersweet Tuesday.