You Can’t Pay For Me

You can pay for my services

My art

My skill

You can pay for my time

My voice

My words

You can pay for a world of things I can do, but

I’m a fucking person and I’m not for sale!

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Dark Places

I find myself in dark places

Open worlds and cramped spaces

Fear and lust and sorrow

Dread and hope tomorrow

I search in other faces

I try to walk in their paces

But I lose myself in their lyric

Their ivory towers vampiric

Worshipping painted idols

I see slaves proud of their bridles

I know that I cannot be found

In the grooves of well-traveled ground

To wander is truly the cost

When looking for things that are lost

And in the light I find only traces

But I find myself in dark places

Love

How do I know I love you? You scare me. I could tell you it’s because I would die for you, which I would, but dying‘s easy. If I were dead I wouldn’t have to deal with this shit anymore, and, quite frankly, that doesn’t seem so bad. The reason you scare me is because you make me want to deal with the shit so, maybe, I’ll actually live here, not just exist here. I don’t know if you’ve got demons like mine, but they can be a bitch. So you scare me because you make me want to face my demons so maybe I won’t lose you in their masochistic self destructive frivolity…and that’s real.

Talking to the Stars

Among the lights where I reside
He grasped the universe within my eyes
The brightness drew him to my side
But in the darkness he saw lies
Fascinated by my wrappings
They only prefaced our descent
Somehow he found me lacking
But he failed to see what I present
There’s always blackness between the stars
There’s always shadow in the day
So much more hides in the dark
But that is where he lost his way
He wasn’t meant to walk with me
And on my own I’ve done so well
It’s not an easy thing you see
And still I find on this I dwell
You’d think with worlds inside of you
It might be easy to be alone
With nothing outside to see me through
I fear at times I’ll come undone
Looking up to my reflection
I’ll ask the bodies time can’t reach
For one proficient in my affection
To navigate this stellar breach
And wonder if the stars are lonely
With so much emptiness around
But I can ever wonder only
While I seem tethered to the ground
Watch me softly heavenly forms
As I grapple with these scars
Finding words outside the norms
My conversations with the stars

No Matter

No Matter

Now and then I want to be

In another person’s head

To see if they live like me

Half alive and half undead

Decisions made by council?

Or do they simply know

A word that rhymes with council?

Oh, I lost my train of thought

Have they done what they’re supposed to

‘Cause that’s how they were taught

Do they find the place to go to

When everyone forgot?

Do they only know they feel

By the attention people pay?

Because they become unreal

When people look away

Can they know they hate something?

And love it all the same

And wonder how they’re feeling

So many different ways?

Most of all I want to know

If they’re lost and can’t go home

Everywhere where they look or go

No matter what they are alone.

Attempts and Such

Starset is awesome and I want to marry Dustin Bates.

Not really.

Maybe a little. I do think he’s pretty cool, but this is just about me really.

It was 2 AM on a Saturday morning when my Facebook notified me that Starset had an event in Houston that fucking night. Fuck it (this is how much of my life goes), I got up at 10 AM and bought tickets for my daughter and I. I love this band (Starset Society, ties to tech, all the work that goes into their website) and have since I discovered them back in 2015, but I haven’t listened to them as much recently. Life has been about work, and hurdles, and cancer (someone else’s), and heart break, and…you know…life. I’ve left my writing behind. (Fuck I completed my first book in 2012 and did NOTHING with it…ugh). I’ve left a lot of me behind thinking I was doing better.

Hearing “Carnivore” reminded me I was letting this shit I really don’t like get the best of me. Putting “Transmissions” on and hearing “Dark on Me” reminded me of curling up next to the computer with my earbuds in and the music to loud just trying to drown it all out. I’m an emotional person. I may be good at deferring to logic, but that is not who I am.

I let myself believe that, while my Facebook friends are super supportive of my occasional desire to get published, the fact that they don’t read my stories and ask for more means I’m really not that good. (NOTHING against them…I want honesty above all else.) There are also little to no “likes” on the Starset stuff I post, and I know they are awesome, so maybe this is just the wrong crowd.

He makes a living doing something he loves…I think. I don’t know him. It’s inspiring, regardless, because it’s what I continue to try and fail to do.

But I am trying. Eventually I’m going to run out of excuses.

Writing Prompt: My scariest moment ever was…

In a second floor office trying to determine if a bill matched the bid making it payable I got a text. It said “I love you”. Kids say that. Especially if they are 10 and you are still the center of their world.

The rest made no sense. She said she was sorry, but she had to go. She promised she’d be safe and she would see me in a few months. That is not shit a 10 year old should be telling you!

I called. Five times? Ten times? A hundred? I only remember that she wasn’t picking up. Two employees and a contractor now existed in a completely separate world I could only register as incoherent noise.

I retreated behind my office door with no explanation. I was to powerless to even speak. It took her voice to give me that much back. I didn’t scream. I checked my tears.

“I don’t understand, baby. What do you mean? Florida? Please go back to the school.”

I had to catch my breath and reign in the flood.

“Please go to Nana. Nana is going to be sick with worry. Please. I love you. Please go back to the school.”

I honestly couldn’t believe she agreed to go back. I had her put Nana on the phone just to be sure. Then I raced home. Longest drive of my life. Best hug at the end.

My daughter wanted to go with her friends to another state make money so we could get our own place. Immediately after a painful divorce I lost my job. I had a new one but it takes time to recover. It was a rough time. I’m not sure how far a group of run away 10 year old would get. The horrifying possibilities still make my throat raw. They’d planned. She’d stolen supplies from her Nana. She told me she didn’t realize it would scare me so much. Obviously I missed…a lot.

She told me she was sorry. I changed. We left it at that.

Bear

I wish I was a bear

Wrapped and warm in fur

Hidden away from winter wear

In sleep I would confer

I find that I am bare

Naked without my faith

Exposed and retreating where

Sleep becomes a wraith

I wish I had a bear

Stuffed full of love and hope

With button eyes so fair

Stable against this tightrope

I have all these wishes

And the warmth of friends that care

Full of love their dishes

My heart beats as the bear

To Write or not to Write

I got the kind of news on thanksgiving day that you keep thinking you’re going to wake up to find it was just a bad dream. Mostly. I knew the possibility of it all. It shouldn’t come as a shock, but when it happens to someone you love very dearly, someone who affects so much of your life, it’s hard to get out of that denial.

Now it colors every aspect of my thoughts and I’m not sure what to write about.

If this was just a diary I would write any drivel that seeps across my addled brain. I’m kind of glad I have an audience…however small. It discourages me from wallowing in my own self pity. It still makes interesting topics difficult however.

So the answer is…write. That’s always the answer. No matter what. Write.

Red

Growing up I remember my father telling me that a woman who has gotten naked with a man cannot be raped. If she’s gone that far with him than she’s obligated to go “all the way”. on the surface I’d say he was a madman, but I think there is an undercurrent of adherence to this belief in this world. I don’t think its openly there, but some part of most people kind of thinks this. I could be just twisted though.

Getting into BDSM one of the first things I was taught is if someone says “red” or calls out an obvious safe word the scene stops. There doesn’t have to be a reason, it doesn’t matter whats going on, and it doesn’t matter who says it everything stops and the person who stopped the scene is cared for. It was this precept that was constantly reiterated that made me comfortable enough to start exploring myself. I was finally ok with the idea that if something made me uncomfortable, no matter what I was doing, I could stop and I wouldn’t be a bad person. Some people are even into that. It’s called ‘tease and denial’ and if I’m a top in anything it would be that. Ha ha! I love being a tease. I don’t like hurting people though so I would only do it to someone who enjoyed that.

Having someone I trust unconditionally has also helped me come out of my shell. I’m a lucky girl.

Have a happy Thanksgiving and I hope you have a lot to be thankful for.