Death’s Kiss

As I lay in bed

I cannot ignore the weight of dread

for the months ahead

I practice being in the moment instead

Yet… it will not get out of my head

Spring is a time of life

For me,

it is strife

I question if I’d be better off dead

“Depression”

The doctor has said

Is that why I see red?

These thoughts lead up to

moments in time

A past I cannot rewind

A life I’d rather leave behind

Sobriety I celebrate

Myself, I berate

My depression

never late

Always waiting and ready to turn off the lights

I do not look forward to April nights

Exhausted from this fight

I haven’t the might

Clinging tight to my flag of white

When does this cycle take flight?

As my grip slips

my serration dips

The taste sadness upon my lips

Dare I call it death’s kiss

Perhaps it is me

it will miss

Safe Space

She often contemplates

Of a distant life

One without strife

Curious of where she hide

When all is chaotic inside

She fears her safe space mimicks pandora’s box

It lies hidden beneath her surface

Unlike a treasure chest

Not meant to be discovered

For this space holds secrets

Most of which permeate

And she, unaware

Emerging,

Protected,

without a care

Not daring to question

who’s secrets live there

She abandons that space

A place

Within her, she fears

One of mystery

of forgotten years

She gazes beyond it’s contents

With aspirations of inner peace

Never to unleash

The savage beast

Societal Genocide

A society screaming for acceptance

Sits judging the alcoholic mom

Religious people condemn others to hell

As Priests rape innocent,

God-fearing boys

Promoting originality and authenticity

Forgetting to disclose an addiction to prescription pain pills

Chanting for equal rights

Gripping your purse

if a black man is in sight

Turning your back

And closing our eyes

Does nothing for the abused elderly

Strangers criticize the strengths of others,

Hidden behind a monitor

A system too blind to see

an orphan being sexually abused,

Until his terrorist attack

appears on the news

A mothers pain heard

finding her son on the floor

dead

A needle in his arm

A Nation arrogant,

Full of pride

Pride.

Homosexual pride

Ashamed,

Forced to hide

We’ve adopted this societal genocide

R.O.E.

It’s Time I Fly

Persistent I focus on growth,

you cannot help but complain.

Much of my life, it’s been the same.

Never enough

Or the wrong time,

Too much,

too soon.

You find the most inopportune moments as if you are searching for a clue.

Mysteriously problems arise,

My fault, in your eyes.

Chastise me as your child,

In which I am.

Except I am grown.

Stifling my creativity

learning

it’s my time to go.

No pointing fingers but is it because of you my inner child refuses to grow?

Pushing her down to size with every no.

There’s this fire pleading from inside.

Tired of being shoved,

made to hide.

Grappling with confusion

your love is no illusion,

yet toxic,

chaining me to who I long to un-become.

It isn’t my will to be done.

Stepping out of my own way,

I am being shown the sun.

All the possibilities frighten any notion of me not by your side.

I deserve a sense of pride.

It’s time you let me off this ride.

Mom,

please set me free so I can learn to be me.

You accomplished fixing me the most you could.

But the time has come,

As I knew it would.

And now I go

with one foot in front of the other,

discovering myself

on this long, desolate road.

You did your best and it has come time

I do the rest.

Guided by your wisdom,

I must leave the nest.

Thin

I feel it

It is trying to lure me in

Singing its melody

Like charming a snake

Wrapping me in a warm coddle

Promising to protect

Never to neglect

Except.

.

Washing aside egotistical pride

Burrowing

Nestling

Within

Refusing a grin

Dare I let depression

Win?

?

It’s an unfair battle

I become reliant

Forget defiant

It’s familiarity encompasses

My being

A scab repeatedly opened

Never quite to heal

Do I give in

And kneel?

.

.

The persistence penetrates

Wearing down the thin

Weak barrier

Forever inferior.

Taking on this Giant

The one not to be tamed

Bowing out

No longer can I refrain.

Hurricane

Her walk some consider a flaunt

Posture like that of a ballerina

A look of confidence masks her truth

Up close you will see the tremble of her hands

If you dare look her in the eye,

intensity becomes visual

Unpenetrable wall hides her pain

Her soul broken in innocence

Shame,

Her life sentence

From the inside, she cries

Suited up in armor to face each day

Baring weight

Is a life of struggle her fate?

An internal debate

Wrapped in a nice package

disguising her lethal contents

A fuse only she can extinguish
Carving a path for herself
Shredding what is in the way
Like a hurricane
Labeled insane
They have no insight into the insurmountable pain
She hears the chatter and soon realizes, it doesn’t matter
For it is her who controls her destiny
Accepting nothing less than wholeness
She brave the stillness
Silence sheds light on a continuous fight

Meant to Be

For his attention

She fight

Without his approval

Her dreams would not catch flight

Self-sabotaging rendered her insane

Poison flowed through her veins

Risking a life she could not love

Losing faith of anyone above

A father who belittled his daughter

Confusing her was the pain

She sought in others a fragile love

The one missing from within

Disposing of men

Forbidden sin

He set an example forever ingrained

Love equals pain

The rejection of his affection left her exposed

Substance she snorts up her nose

Numbing the pain

Heartbreak upon heartbreak she gain

A constant battle with her brain

A destiny to heal her heart

Finding herself falling apart

She doesn’t know where to start

Forgiveness is key

In being set free

And unlocking who she is meant to be

2019 and Me

2019

I try not to put much emphasis on the new year but this year seem a bit different. Setting resolutions is not my style but I have set three goals for myself as well as a word. All of it surrounds the discovery of self. I stumbled into my forties in December of 2018 and am surprised I made it this far. Life as a bipolar alcoholic hasn’t been without struggle and pain.

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If 2018 taught me anything it was that I have not a clue who I am. Where I start and my illnesses end. Simple things such as what I love, my style, my individual identity, my voice have been masked by pain and were once drowned by alcohol. As I peep forward into 2019 I foresee pain yet with life-changing results. I will follow the intuition that I have ran from my entire life. Stepping out of myself to volunteer my time to the less fortunate will play a huge role in my new year.

Something I have always craved is understanding. How can I convey my truth and my story without knowing who I am? That has become my mission; find me. Forgiving myself and others will help boost my confidence and allow me to shake that heavy energy. I have felt a continual pull towards giving of myself to others and 2019 is the year this will happen. My plan is to give of myself in hopes of finding myself. If nothing I will have contributed to my community.

The opportunity of working with local sex workers has opened up for me and I am excited to give it a go. While I have never been a sex worker myself I share similar qualities to those in this area of work. Yes will be my go-to for helping others in need but no for those close to me. Sounds a bit backward but I find that those close to me aren’t in need, they are in want. Hell, I want it all but the reality is I can’t have it and so I say no to them. It will be a big change and difficult I am sure but all will be fine.

I set no expectations on 2019. I will follow lead. My heart’s lead. I want to learn to love and not feel ashamed that I do. I want to embrace what my soul desires. And I will. No matter how awkward it is. I will follow. I am going to paint, write, and believe in myself. And if I fall, I will rise stronger than before!! If I can do it, anyone can.

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Six years ago I was drunk sleeping in my truck in an unfamiliar Wal-Mart parking lot. I was kicked out of three sober living homes and considered myself worthless. Well, in my pit of despair and at the bottom of a gallon of vodka I decided I was worth something. Now it is four years later and I am three years and nine months sober seeking that something. One lesson I have learned is that life requires time. Time to prepare, time to believe, time to heal and time to forgive. My journey will not be in vain. I will be patient with myself this coming year and I will have more compassion for others.

revengeofeve.com

If you are interested in following my journey, please do! I have completely revamped my site. I deleted all of my old content, bought my domain, upgraded my plan and look forward to recording my journey at revengeofeve.com.

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With confidence I created my own niche and will blog about a variety of topics but of course mental health plays a huge role in my life and serves as the basis of all I do. Embracing my truth and learning to live will be my legacy. Do you know yours?

She

I come and go as I please.

I always have.

Usually,

I want to be missed.

But not this time,

it’s been pure bipolar bliss;

being a miss.

It isn’t easy being in this world,

only to exist.

With moods that have fits.

Yet I have found my peace

with my inner beast.

Dormant she lie asleep.

Angela Rebecca

I wanna talk about you.

But I don’t.

No one understands that I promised a man

to hold his daughter’s hand.

She is far out in dead man’s land.

A break intended for self-reflection

has resulted in deflection.

Refusing to look in the mirror

or by your side

Where is it Angie

that you hide?

I can’t be your light.

I am the dark part of us.

You are sick.

I am helpless.

My hands tied,

as I watch you slowly commit suicide.

You’ve left my side

Sacrifice your pride.

Your selfish ways punish those who love you.

This isn’t about you anymore,

It’s about them four.

You have to find your way out.

Darkness doesn’t look good on you.

Evil has dulled your Shine.

I hate I have abandon you

but I’ve already been to hell.

And crawled my way out.

This belongs to you.

You have taken my girl from me

but

my girl is breaking for you.

She sees you struggle.

It’s not fair

She’s of age

and aware.

Them too.

They are craving your attention.

And you let them starve.

I will write my boo.

And let her I know

“I love You”

Sometimes souls must separate.

Mine suffers for its mate.

It’s too late.

I am being forced to watch you deteriorate

They say you are past saving,

it’s a waste of time.

Where do you draw the fuck’n line?

You are proving them right.

I have no more energy to fight.

I beg,

seek the light.