The Di.agnosis!!!

July 24, 2013

Breath patterns are still stable.
Throat is still moist.
Life is still known.
Breath is still left.
----------------------

There's a choke hold to my neck
My eyes are glazed and hazy
I'm awake but not coherent
My movements seem unnatural.
Climbing from mountain tops of days
In conscious worried fashion,
IVs pulse through my arms 
Stopping all bleeding aggression. 

Fear has left the building
Guessing game at best
Wonder reaching rapid
Tongue still numb - what breath?
It's the Plaid that pushed my patience,
sitting right by my side
Carefree and warm exterior, 
But look back- it's a mean married man!

My chest con-caved with passion
It's Laughter that makes me gag
I am, NO! not a quitter
I run but I never ran
I caused this diseased being in me,
intruding my back side
Alone I await my train
Riding slowly, conveyor rides
I'm well until I reach a 'forest'
Weeping willows rooted down.
I improv my way around
All that's really raining down

They diagnosed my condition
As [LUCID LABELED LEAVES]
Floating by on roadway
Many pushes, I collapse and grieve
The D must stand for dodge, delivered damaged goods
I need a respirator.

Oh doctor! Come take the lead!
-----

I . . .

I can't. I can't. I just can not.
I won't.
I don't.
I try but can't.
I rant.
I speak aloud so proud. 
I seek.
I find.
I hide . . . alone now.

I bite.

I spit.

I roll my eyes.

I clench my fist

I hum . . . 

silent rides.

I shun.

a gun - I handled with care.

I blast off pain!

I ache.

I stared.

I spat out blood

I ran.

I thought:

I'm rare.

I care.

so then . . . I stopped.

--------

I can't.

I can't.

I can't calm down.

I say.

I wait.

I fall far down.

I'm stuck.

I see.
I 'stick to my guns.'
I sit in the dirt.
but no sticks, no stones.

I try. 

I wash.
I release what I feel.
I dance. 
I sleep.
I can't.
I'm still.
----------
I love.
I loved.
I love even more.
I wonder?
I worry,
foresee all turmoil.

I can't.
I don't.
I am not well.
at all
I stall
I wed the red:
STOP!
Talk!
Communicate!
Listen . . . to love
I listen.
I faint. 

I'm close.
so close.
I fight, cause pain.
I leave the lust
of May seasoned rains.

I try.
I get lost.
I help.
I waver.
I wave: Move away!
move past,
move on . . . 
each person,
each problem,
each need,
each wrong.
----------
I wake.
I'm awake.
Day 1 out of 7.
Again with the wind
our hearts reach for heaven.

I know not how-

move forward? no luck.

I'm stuck again?

I can't.

I cuss. 

ComplexiDy?

Complex creature.
in creative states.
opening gates that were once erased.
easily placing things aside
deciding whether to take the ride.
Complexity is what I view.
Traveled mountains, disheveled shoes.
on hands and knees, through hide and seek
I leap alone . . . yes, quietly. 

Creating complexities in me
I soon, sad, see
this view of me
I try. We try. Things haven't worked.
What happens now?
We turn to dirt?
The build in bond
caused casualties, 
complex creatures
we both must be?

I seem to see the complexities
but does he know,
'complexed as me?'
the fear is:
quivers, speech so cold
left with what?
a memory mold.

Come back! with commas that stop the game
the playful dates
as dance is rain
that falls so frequent now in dust
cause smoke in eyes
the scene shot - [fuss]
-----
to be continued . . . 

True Colors.

The rage of red caused my green to go
pale white in the face in shock I glowed
mid in the night I quietly yell-owed
for a taxi who smiled hello
blues in back as I rode along
'back to black' amy knows the song
lone I dance in gray fit pants
I walked the stairs of checked lands
brown the ground, as I gazed down
no help in sight, pink panic clown!
on train I knew my purple rained
orange my back beat heavy pain
----
not a-gain . . . another loss.

x 2 (R x A = D)

There's two that stand before me
In need of something new
The newness in my journey
The new - it happens, no shoes

Expressive in their longing
Their hair sweeps side to side
I tried to stop from knowing
How much I died inside

Inside from lonely highways
I tread one day at a time
No one hears my probing
They sit and stare in mime
... No tears this time around
The frown is far from round
My gown of glory gone
But 2, come sing my song

The two
They are my gateway
My helping hands
This time
The time it takes to build
Your circle, follow . . . come ride!

This playground once filled happy
This space is SO fulfilling
The feelings I hold so deeply
Now once upon a healing....

I try, see eyes of hunger
To move and learn once more
No cares of those around them
I see them 2 times more

How do they still believe?
My presence is yet so absent
I taught my worth was lather.
Not grow in uneasy disaster

----
2 can equal completion
2 can make you whole
2 is not uneven
2 hold a heart of gold!
----
I thank the 2 students who haven't left my side.

I am the one I no longer know.

"I am, whatever they say I am. If I wasn't, then why would they say I am."

Yeah . . . that's about right.
----------------------------------
I am
the frown upon my face
the hours past, no dry erase.
I am
this deep
dark
complex
comic?
book of hearts on sleeveless pockets
I am
the words I 'itch' to others
wish: take back! those tongueless runners
I am
the silence, I hold my breath
I kick and scream, burn in my chest
from den of doubt
no patience,
racing with my quiet graces
I am
the time I take to ease
the shield that builds
from ache and knees . . .
that used to bow upon my carpet
ask for help
but then, I stopped it
I am
the grip I tightly hold
when things go wrong
I love 2-fold
2 personalities come out to play
the one who cares
the one with rage
I am
this D-scription
I see
Irate I fake the hate at gate
affect me not?
yeah right, untrue
but true like glue
I say to you
---------------
I am
this person
I ask: Who's she?
it makes me wonder
what happened to me?

These bags?. . . my bad . . . I 'got it.'

This time I moved my bags . . .
clear across the room.
I had no cucumbers lying around
to pick up shop at moon.
Though I felt like a dirty rag
just left on the side to dry,
soak and wet with tears,
inside . . . I tried. I bribed.

My bags were half way by the door
ready to walk out and leave,
as much as I didn't want to
I really had to feed
. . . this unhealthy feeling: cold
my covers were not enough
couldn't cover up my silence,
the silence I wanted to fuss.
my telephone by my side
my keys in right,  his left hand(ed)
he unlocked my door of need
the door I shut with speed
Go!
Ignore.
Pause.
Stop! and "just Breathe."
-----
my bags fell down the stairs though,
so I kicked and screamed - turned red.
The blood red velvet cover,
is the one we both slept under.
Rolled out of 'bag' in the morning
after pleasant memory.
That picture, my favorite one
in my journal now . . . lock and key.
----

My bags held loads of laundry
No chance to start re-cycle
Now chapter 3
confused . . .
by compli-who?

That bag was really heavy
too many kept zipped tight
I commented on its weighedness
With him, I guess I'm right?
I write these words to hear me
to see what bags to empty
tonight my bags were black
in dark my breath unstealthly
----

Moving on . . . every bag,
we carried day by day
one day they kept me conscious
one day with stories told
one day they were worth the wait,
calm and cured my soul.

One day, my bags like ears
listening for tones before rest
The last words I can remember
just 'got' a hold to my chest.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
my bags were filled with orange, green beaks inside.

Lucky? Go Happy!

'Happy go lucky'

Never been the type.

Rational Rachel.

Calm Casey.

Or Negative Nancy, some would say . . . 

Regardless, Happy places are sometimes spaces - I would like to fill.

Feeling. Flying. Hopping high. Jumping Jack and Jill. 

Happy places and sunshine faces.

My recollect have grown so dreary.

I wait hours and hours, peek moments in time.

 my worry . . .  the reason I sob in rhyme.

Happy places are moments away.

I await them everyday.

I'm gay with envy of everyone who has a brighter day.

My mean girl mug throws darts and daggors

Baggor friends who seem entangled 

with other things to do- 
To do the check on their list = I'm always left - Boo Who!?!

Happy places?

What is that? 

Yes - mind control

I understand

Its MY mind

NOT what you do.

Get it, got it - I'll chew . . . on that.

Out one ear and out the other

I suffer longer than anyone I knew

already long past in slumber
while rumbling covers hide my blue

Happy places and lucky aces

where did you go?

I can't seem to find any of you.

You skipped one space

to the left, to the left

just me, myself and who?

Happy friends in happy places

ummmmm - did you forget me here?

The one 'happiness' I once had

you stole by age and fear

I wish I could hold on to those 'loves' 

the few I barely cared

I cared a lot and still I do

you know me very well?

Happy places and no more rhymes
rhythm awaits another day
to turn the page of random rage
and past the passing graves
skim over the shocking waves
a memory not far in daze
I crave:
Happy places and fulfilling spaces
space to be . . . HAPPY!

[Fear in Route]

There's doubt
There's shout...ing!
We pout, predicting pathways that are personal
Loudly wishing clout could save us from...back to doubt.
About ...we can not hold on to.
Impatient we avoid the question - what is about to happen?

Leave out the way we see ourselves - when ever asked to reveal.
We scout those feelings ... Oh so real
They sprout  up like dani-evil-lions

Out . . . side we can not show that fear has held us back
Lulu would feed us lemons to teach us which route to come back 
. . . to

Our jaws are now stout -filled with excuses to render
Like louts our behavior begins to change into 
[begging batters baked into broken bits]

Inside . . . the fear we have has turned into gout, 
it destroys who we are on the . . . Inside
We turn up our snout when we don't agree
We try to tout others to vouch by mouth - what we're worth: greed?

Why can't we just sit still - 
Oh! FEAR . . . come out! come out!
wherever you are . . . 

my ROUTE is what I doubt~
-------------
the only way to succeed at times, is to make decisions within our fearful journeys!

FIGHT CLUB - Part 2? 3? 4? 5? 6? 7?...

Psh! We never fight.
Ummmmm YES we do.
I do.
Well . . . I say after: I love you.
But!
No marriage here
Nothing of the size.
just 2 bickering friends
on roller coaster rides.

He tried it!
I tried.
We settled the storm.
HE settled our storm
with his warm . . . 
. . . wishing for his hugs :(

once/per wk - he said
I would disagree
Ok! numerous times at best
but NEVER wanting to leave.
Hours on the phone
good like GOOD TIMES! "every time I need a payment"
Bad like BAD GIRLS . . . club
Now That's! A Fight Club!

No No No No No - not like that at all.
No fist at hand, just words like stones 
bruised and baffled - who won?

It's getting sooooo intense!
I don't know what to do :(
I AM . . . the things upon 'his list.'

Oh! What happened to me?
I think I think too much
At least he answers my calls
when fuss, a cuss, from lust

I have to take in his patience
from pushing him so hard
no dry wall can hold me back
folds melt from wet
the wall/
unbalanced - you get my drift?
I fall
"stop crying" 
he's ALL
and everything I need
can't understand the WHY?
he CONTINUES to help me BREATHE . . . 
-------------------------
when I think 'age' separates us - I learn 'age' makes me stronger. Am I the one who lost my years, as he is the one: More mature - no tears? 

from daggers to dust . . .

[The older I get - I watch my life as it unfolds and hits this 'rock bottom' state. You never envision your life taking drastic turns and hitting so hard that you have no breath left . . . I experienced that today.]

from daggers to dust . . . 

I used to leap in latitudes 
but now 
I'm as grounded as the movers of post-modern decades:
My iridescent light used to shine in neon green - the time I felt free to enjoy the ride. The ride now has sliced my clothing with its sharpness and has produced birthmarks to last me till death. I shake my head as I press replay - my thoughts of all that has transpired - numb in my agility to lift my face from drooping, magnets pull it down. 
I sigh in wonder of the seed that has grown and wilt inside of me - a molded deep sea green in opposition 
of the pale light green of passing fearlessness. 
Occasionally, but actively I ponder the 'what if' stamped across my heart, the mark I leave in art is also the mark I leave in connected froth. 

Skin so tight, I squint intensely; my breath scares me into flat line! 
I pause.

I hear these words  played on repeat as a mother scolding her children!

------------

The daggers feel stronger after the second day. After the storm has passed by a little. 
In a cold sweat I woke up quivering internal vibes . . . 
You wake up early even though you haven't slept yet.
 Eyes pop open glance down at the floor, head heavy lagging on the pillow. You second guess every fiber of your being hoping you don't exist anymore
. . . It was all a dream, only not. 
The truth of the matter is that it REALLY matters . . . to me. I am who I am and that's why I am who  I am NOT. 
You don't think
 I think about all that was and used to be? Me, you, me, we which is now who, what, when and why? 
I noticed that cast down shades slowly closing the small amount of light, peeking out an outstretched blind. 
Yeah, that blind-sided me . . . by my side you once were. 
I wrote this chapter close unconsciously not calculating reprocustions. I mis-calculated in this maze I'm in. 
I am sick. Not diagnosed . . . .

You can't cove up puffy eyes with make up- the disease you have is prevalent: The red turned pink, turned pale, the colors erased and unnoticed even by those who KNEW you. You don't know you - why you are Y U R N I C U? 
Comatose by my being . . . honest. My figure of speech, my tongue IS the gun that kills everyone. . . I love. 
In death you hope for their re pass. That this season will, this moment will pass - it will but it will never be the same. 
All the games you played with each other - there's has to be a winner and loser right? 
You are the loser. 

Lost in life, love and lessons . . . Planned by your teachers =  A contradiction. 

Darts and daggers have turned to dust and days of dance have become a different disgust.
- - - - - - - -
March '13
(friendships in seasons)

in ANGST.

--------
I SEE them as I walk away
as I walk long side
as I creep up through the hall
Can't seemingly swallow my pride

I HEAR them loudly in my head
excuses to fill the time
excuses to make the hurt, hurt less
excuse me, can't sympathize

I SPEAK only when I am spoken to
if I to speak I'll know
just word in wrong I hear it now
the words spill out . . . love song?
-----------

I SEE how every thing unfolds
as casual as can be
I see I never 'let it go'
someone please address me!

I HEAR my pain is loud and clear
I suffer inside like death
no one knows the angst I feel
the way I hold my breath

I SPEAK to those I confide
Counting them on one hand
My trust is slowing filtering away
like short hair upon my head
-----------

I SEE I can not change them
I see they'll live their lives
I see that I'm the only one
feeling so [dipr] inside

I HEAR them talk about me
words so clear in my head
I play the words in monotone
an epilogue instead

I SPEAK openly and honestly
of what this 'real' is doing
but no one hears this quiet B
I wish this hold could MOVE me.  

Henry Ford Exploration in Transitions.

"If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got." Henry Ford

True. 
----------------------------------------------------------------

[TRANSITIONS] 

defined as - the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another. 

It encompasses CHANGE. Change is what we are uncomfortable with. It scares us, worries us, challenges are mental habits. It makes us uneasy because we don't hold the sight to our future. It confuses us, makes us sometimes second-guess our choices. Here's what I see: Chapters Happening All N Gradual Extremes. Chapters can be as long or as short as we make them. Something that is Happening is continuous. Gradual Extremes mean that things don't always happen at once but they do tend to catch us guard . . . there lies the TRANSITION. 

A transition should be like a 'leap' into something new/a fresh new start to something better, something that creates growth. As we age, we are Growing into ourselves - our existence on this planet - why it is. There is also a care that happens in that transition bc we tend to be cautious in our approaches. 

Breakdown into previous quote . . .  All before the TRANSITION.

1. What did you used to do?

2. What happened with what you used to do?

3. What did it give you?

4. How did you feel after you got that?

For Example: 

1. I used to be a teacher.

2. I gathered a 'following' that respected what i did.
3. It gave me something to look forward to - to be able to surround myself with the people I loved. 

4. I was happy, yet burnt out and needed more...

---------- 

You can't expect to have the same responses 2nd time around. 

Life sometimes puts you back in the same the place in order to see if there will be a change in you or if you'll take it as a 2nd chance at Life. 

2nd chances don't always come back around, so when they do - we have to wrap our heads around them - figure things out - discover new things about ourselves. Exploration is never ending, always evolving. 

----
November ended - Chapter LA.
November started - New Chapter Chicago.