the relationship I had when I was 13.

At some point in our lives, we tend to recreate the traumas or patterns we experienced in childhood. Maybe once, maybe more than once… There’s that cliché but it’s true. We play out all the pain and the longing and the desires we’ve had. This happened to me when I was 13.

I was with a boy who not surprisingly mirrored lots of the same emotional difficulties as me. He was an on and off again runaway/kid who got kicked out, who lived in group homes and was involved in gangs. He dabbled in physical self-harm before he met me and I was already a few months into my own path of cutting before I met him. We met at the perfect conjunction where all of this expedited in me. And I must’ve seemed so crazy now looking back because my head also throbbed with notions of romanticism and emotional fantasies.

Continue reading the relationship I had when I was 13.

the middle road

It’s hard to put all of your self as you are in this moment out there without the muddling of visions of past selves popping in and out, isn’t it ?

There are times , maybe even plenty , where you are enjoying your progress and your strengths and your seeming lack of fragmentation. Then something or someone from your past comes back around to test you , literally on a soul level.

You always wish and hope that the same patterns won’t be played around. That you won’t revert back totally. But maybe that’s just it … we kind of are scared of lack of perfection. We don’t want to admit that every moment will still be imperfect and we get stuck in an all or nothing frame of view.

Continue reading the middle road

freedom

born with a dancer’s delicateness,
you thin ankles and birdlike feet
were always too ready
to just fly away.

as if you could not let the divinity
in you permeate your whole body,
to reach down to the soles
of your feet, to be stood in.

there will always be those who
are too afraid of the ones who
generate too much electricity.
but this is not something to keep
to yourself, and it is not something
that can be easily stolen out
from underneath you.

the safe haven you preciously maintain
to travel back and forth to and from
needs to be the wings, excavated,
that flees you not from yourself
or your experience,
but from this nest you’ve found yourself in.
after all, your true fear
is that you really just might be able to.