Biting tongues...

the taste of elements.
i shudder at the tingle of
crimson, iron-laden
lifewater that seeps
slowly out the strong
impressions my teeth made;
pressure cracks
of forced reluctance,
keeping Broca* from
forming the words
my mind urges me to say.
I punish the facilitator of my language
because it needs not always to
follow my brain's will.
I punish my mind because of the pain
these words may cause, the stinging of
those words relayed to the
origin by biting my tongue,
therefore, internalizing the verbal pain
that sometimes i WISH i can
inflict on their targets.
so, i have to feel the sharp stabbing,
forever display the marks of a potential sin lost
in transmission,
and
create a lie in order to not slay you
with my tongue.
even one LITTLE word...
and you wouldn't survive this Gatling attack.
Sin still wins, yet
you advance on.
i care WAY too much.


*Broca's area, which is a specific area of the brain that aids in speech production.

14 and... 41. lol.

Yeah, so... the last couple months have been rough on a sister. Grandmother battling breast cancer (AND WINNING, thank GOD), my dog having to be euthanized, preparing myself for the rest of my life, trying to stand on my own two feet financially so in the future I can walk alone, NO crutches, no wheelchairs, no aids to get me to my destination of stability, financial happiness, and contentment. Oh, and the rearranging of social things in my life.

With that being said, Grandma is good. She's not excited about the treatment making her hair fall out now, but, at least the lymph nodes and the area that had swelled has gone down DRAMATICALLY. I'm very proud of her. She's even abiding by us?!?! Drinking more water, less diet sodas (they have aspartame in them), taking vitamins, getting a bit of exercise, and eating healthier choices to fuel her body. I'm VERY happy. As far as the hair falling out, I guess we both gonna be rocking cesars for the next few months :).

Now on to the next topic. My dog of 11 years, Sable, a lab-chow mix of a several races, so much like the modern human, fell ill about a week or so ago. His hair was lightening and falling out, he couldn't chew, and he barely ate. He wagged his tail when he saw one of us, but other than that, he was NOT the dog I knew him to be. I knew something was wrong, and so did my Mom. Upon further investigation and deliberation, we came to the conclusion that he is either getting weaker from old age, or, he is in the beginning stages of rabies, but that doesn't seem right because he has been vaccinated. Either way, he was suffering, so, we decided that he be taken away. The same dog who was always active, even in his older years, just all of a sudden became this sluggish dog. I think we made the right choice. Something WASN'T right at all. It saddens me, and the thought of going to feed him still pops in my head from time to time, I gotta keep reminding myself, he's not out there anymore. *sigh*

Searching for a good graduate school has been easier than I thought. I found the perfect school to attend. It's close and still a bit of distance from home, the residential area is affordable, and it is accredited for the MSW (Master of Social Work) degree. I am certain about successfully obtaining this degree, and I am MORE than happy about eventually using this degree. I'm also happy about my new second language, American Sign Language *big smile*. Either way, this year is gonna be the defining year. If I do everything right this year, I have nothing to worry about. I just have to stick to my guns, and if I have anything to rely on, it's sticking to my guns. lol. I like guns.

Last but definitely not the least important is, the happenings in my social life. Eh, social life when I'm at home is BARELY visible. Especially being without a job this summer. I make friends easily, it's just I have none to MAKE this summer lol. I don't volunteer anymore, and even WHERE I volunteered it was elderly, and younger teens. Great acquaintances and life lessons, but, not friends to hang out with. So, other than handing out loaves and fishes, #missionfail. lol. School, for me, is wonderful. Not JUST because I'm close to all the friends I'm close to, but because it's much easier to hang out and make new friends, because people are always in close proximity. When I am here in Charlotte, my friends are scattered about. My friends in Charlotte are either: working all the time, MARRIED, got children and a baby parent, in class, or a combo of all four lol. So, when we DO hang out, it is few and far in between, and usually, we spend HOURS together. Usually into the wee hours of the morning. Good, yes? Umm... not when you have a curfew like I do... AT HOME. 2am. Found out last weekend, when I came home at 4am. Yeah. It's time for me to leave this nest. I'm almost 22, with a damn CURFEW? How about THIS is my curfew: coming in as quiet as possible so i won't disrupt my Old Man and Old Lady. That's a curfew that I can live with. It's not even a safety issue. I always got a taser on deck. LMAO. But yeah, my social life includes my love life. I suck at flowing transitions, get over it. It's not an essay.

I have hit a kinda dry spell lately. I've been going to and fro, I found someone I liked.... turned my knob til it was stuck on stupid... and lost all my usual ways and became this animal that took my beautiful, lovely heart out of its black box and just threw it. LOL throwing objects at people is never really well received. Oh well. Just time to move on to the next, as I typically do in these situations with ease. I have learned not to throw my heart at people. LOL, cause it hurts. Call me flighty, call me an existential coo-coo bird that doesn't go nuts for Cocoa Puffs. I'm 21. I'm into new experiences. I'm into falling in love. I'm into doting on people. I'm into reciprocity. I'm not into wasting my time. I'm not into going back to the past. I'm not into giving second chances anymore. I'm not really into having second chances either. That is at the discretion of anyone I've fucked up with. Instantly forgive, never forget is my motto now. It's tough to forgive sometimes, though. I've learned that, in my short life. The world is too big for me to hold on to broken pieces right now. My dreams, my goals, and the ones who are the best fit to be a part of my journey are the things that I will carry on my walk. Speaking of, I think I've found space for some people in my boat. I wrote a poem about how I feel about this person. *smiles* I hope they don't mind if I share this, but lol, I feel like a 14 year old again.

"14"

a jumbled mess
syntax is taxing,
order, meter
off; if it are were what
i not understand could,
the words i have to
explain how...

Stressing what should be
unstressed, rhythm of
iamb off.
A murmur of sorts,
a lub-DUP turns into a lub-
of unflinching anxiety,
the good kind of course.

Butterflies of adrenaline
buzz like beestings of budding feelings.
A tweak in peaking, as acid refluxes
from my bottomless pit.
Familiar it feels. Scary,
or maybe it's my kidneys and
pituitary acting 14 again.

Diamonds

A mined diamond
carbon; eons to create,
hours to destroy.

a raw diamond is
a Jeweler's dream, for it
has never been cut.

Some can't handle the
RESPONSIBILITY of
caring and molding.

these "Jewelers", and
i use the term loosely, will
crack gems; deemed useless.

all hope seems lost for
this mined diamond, because the
cracks run in to core.

however, this gem
has not been completely cut,
molded, or shaped yet.

a skilled Jeweler
will fill this shattered diamond
with what she may need.

a Healer, a Love
to restore her to greatness
and destined brilliance.

Forgotten

No more calls.
Passerby hellos
gone goodbye
No more shoutouts,
thoughts of you: gone.
Pop-up videos
of a shattered memory,
unclear now
and better off
in the distance.
I'm nearsighted,
you're not
in primary focus,
your place is
just past the horizon
where you belong.
Sounds of you fade to black
you went under with
Compton's Most Wanted,
braincells dead
(or at least the ones
you occupied),
myelin unsheathed,
memories unraveled.
Only piece
I possess
is the one that
tells me
I used to know you.
And I'm ok with that.
All that work in forgiving
forgot you,
And I'm ok with that.
No longer do I sting,
all the aloe vera, honey and
quinine eradicated
the love poison
you forced down my throat.
Don't worry, I'm not upset,
I just....... don't.....
remember you. That's all.
What's your name again? *smiles*

Vision?

Umm.... yeah. lol figure it out cause, idk.


Image:
Something I see
an upside down picture
in the back of my eye
projects forward,
fun mirrors
correcting the fucked,
perfecting the blemishes of life,
hiding the fact that
NO, I am not standing up,
yet, PARALLEL to the
rest of the UNIVERSE.
We all are.
Only ones who stand upright are in
the cold, and wonder,
why did they freeze to death?
Even those who are upside down
Wonder
why did they freeze to death?
No two polar extremes of perception
shall prosper,
so get like the rest of us.
I ponder,
can it see itself
faking the ideas
of my own head? A
live depiction of
my active imagination,
it EXISTS only in the occipital,
where IN my mind fucks itself
and what was REALITY is no longer visible,
clouded by a lust for what I want which is
also what I need--
for my eyes.
My eyes are my worst deceptor,
these divine creations are divinely....
corrupt.


Why do these eyes plague me?
Why is it that
when I close my eyes,
the whole world seems clearer?
In the dark, I can feel the reality,
the heat,
the movement,
and when I step into the swarm
of contradiction, I can FEEL the deception,
I can FEEL the truth,
I can FEEL destiny.
So then, why must I be tempted
to open my eyes again?
Seems as if your OWN eyes are the windows into your OWN soul,
what you see is what you want.
what you DON'T see is what is truth.
Ah, I prefer blindness.

Bleh.

I hate when I can't have who or what I want,
but it's kinda hypocritical when I can't let someone have a part of me.
Eh, deal with it. I sure have.

Enjoy, I guess.

You cannot have this bit
You cannot take me away
pry me off
this ingrained dream
a pebble of
what is left
of this sadness
that nestled in
a little hole,
a polyp in
my little soul.
You cannot be a magician
You cannot remove all of
what was here
it can never
be truly erased
JUST STOP TRYING,
You cannot eradicate
You cannot cure
every ailment I
encountered, you'd just
have to learn
to deal with
the fact that
SOMEONE along the
line, actually did
affect me in
such a way
that it left
a little mark
on my life
and changed me
in a way
that caused me
to love and
appreciate you more.
It's not that
you CANNOT, it's
that you WON'T
have this bit
this small part
of me that
caused me to
love you dearly,
dearie. Just, Don't.

Love and Wannabes

Love

EVOLved lust;
overload of
flame pumping
through each atrium,
each ventricle
of your mind.
the fire brands
unhealing wounds
that never keloid
never disappear;
third-degree burning
impressions on
your soul
with their image
and you revel in that
feeling. For the moment
you feel no pain,
nerves dumbed--
excuse me, numbed
to express internal
ownership of an external
being. ___ IS here.



Ode to Wannabes

a breath
from another
says
"I'll try to understand
when you're down on your knees
in front of [THAT] man".
I will try to understand
that my brain-
programmed;
nerves dumbed down
to receive
the proverbial brand-
chased after you
and away from me.
But I have no concept
no imagination
no cognition anymore.
Only a body lacking
control of its
feelings,
emotions,
heart.
But only if
you knew
how difficult it was to
compact and part
this red sea
running through
me to make way
for you.
You never will know, for
my head rests
in your backpack.
Always behind you,
never a forethought,
only a trailing consideration
that is at the mercy of your
spine.
When you collapse
to your knees,
to service THAT man,
so will my memory.
Remember that.