n.e.s.t.

[SmileGRL]

.
nest. to crawl inside
and hide
blanket. i am raw
and naked. cover my insides
my mind. beats like a terrified bird
wings flutter. pressure
climbs my throat
fear. push. push it down. but
it streams. like tears down my face
i can’t. i. can’t. i
help me

.

[judih]

sound of multiple mamas
birds clothe you in song
stretch heart, feel safe

[stilltrucking]

I tried stifle the great heaving sobs that wracked my body
and I could not
That was November 23 1984
the day after my Rose of San Antone died.
I was two weeks shy of my 44th birthday




“Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends.”—Virginia Woolf

Too late to delete this
I been thinking about repressed emotions and
what it felt like to cry the way only children can cry.
Don't stifle let it go

[jim turner]

I don't know how it sounds but now I know how a cry of despair looks. jim

[SmileGRL]

this year has been too long and i feel like i've been stretched too much. pushed. grow. pushed. grow. sometimes i want to say to the universe, "don't be so fricking rude and give me a chance to dust off my knees." some days i feel good and strong. and some days i melt into a puddle of sadness and pain and anxiety. on top of that, i'm used to dipping my toe into this swimming pool of possibilities and suddenly there's a whole ocean trying to swallow me and it scares the shit out of me. it brings me crashing down sometimes. it's not that i don't have faith. it's that i'm just so tired. stretched. worn thin. aching. overflowing. i think it's time to visit a therapist.

judih (angel mama), jack (yes, the more you try to push it down, the harder it pushes back. a hug for that long forgotten ache.), jim (despair is what i was feeling yesterday. and i realized i couldn't do this alone anymore.)... thanks. that's all i have right now. and sorry that i haven't replied to anyone.

ps. sometimes when i'm "preaching" for the multitudes out there, i'm preaching for myself, and remembering how far i've come.

[stilltrucking]

I am still thinking about the title of your poem. Some days I feel like an ivory billed woodpecker.

[Arcadia]

smileGRL...! good to read you again here, whoever you are preaching or not for...! abrazote!

[stilltrucking]

I think about the man who made me cry that day
His guilty conscience made him lash out at me
and so
I cried for myself
not his sister/my mother.

[SmileGRL]

thanks jack and miss arcadia.

and yes jack, sometimes people lash out because they're in pain. if you can recognize that (like you did), that's a little piece of compassion right there...for both of you.

i've got some good news. shared it on the general forum (coz it's not a poem). all i can say is god works in mysterious ways. i asked for help and god answered. i am deeply grateful and i have hope again.

[.Lucy.]

This rawness paints a sense of loss and desperation, and I am truly sorry that you've had to experience this-

Articulate and delicate writing here, beautiful...

[sonofthesun]

smiles

[SmileGRL]

miss lucy...sometimes i get quite lost and desperate. i think the death of my brother (which broke my heart and left an unbridgeable hole in me), the not being able to be there with my family and the transitional period we're going through (although long awaited) just pushed me over the edge of sanity a bit. right now i am filled with gratitude and hope again, but time will tell how this is going to play out. i guess i just have to roll with it for now and trust that everything will work out for the best.

even though it sometimes throws me into deep pits of despair and uncertainty, even though i sometimes ache and fear or scream or cry, i trust my path and i trust in god's compassion & wisdom.

sonofthesun...smiles. the sun always shines again after a storm.