Field

In the field beyond words

Our spirits meet

I’m not too blinded by the light to see your energy and delight in the way the wildflowers sway with us

Physically, I am bound in this life

In spirit, I am boundless

That field beyond words is our playground, filled with passion and joy, gratitude and care

It is easy for relationships to seem perfect when they aren’t actually happening

I wonder if you have a sense of my spirit’s desire to bond with yours

I used to think all beings were one spirit, but it is more fun to flirt with another than with self

I used to take for granted that a spirit bond was enough, then I lost the one I loved

His absence taught me the importance of being there, of showing up

I stand here in the field with so much love to share

Sweet Tooth

I’ve got a sweet tooth for untruths I speak when I think he is too bitter to handle new answers to old questions.

Part of me doesn’t care what he thinks of me because I’d be better off without him, but I don’t want him to bring the full weight of religious shame crashing down on my body.

Why do I find the forest more sacred than any church?

In nature, I can be a woman.

I try to maintain a semblance of integrity amidst the corrosivity of saccharine lies

Like going to bed without brushing my teeth after dessert, I know this is only wishful thinking.

What am I to do when he prods me with questions about my life that are none of his business?

I’ve already overshared and over cared.

Every time I repeat a lie to him because he is demanding that I relive painful experiences out loud against my will, it makes it harder to tell the truth.

He doesn’t treat me right. Even on our best days, he makes me pay for everything and do all the work to take care of him, so what do I owe him?

He has not demonstrated himself to be worthy of knowing my most personal memories, given his previous reactions.

Perhaps it is true that the truth will set me free, however I am too terrified to change my habits tonight.

Paradoxically, while I have not yet changed the habit of wrapping myself up in a protective cocoon of lies, I have changed the pattern of no longer flooding my body with sugar, which is a victory.

Too Much

Are you upset because you feel that you gave too much, darling?

Too much love and affection, only to end in rejection?

Too much energy and time, too much of your body and mind, did you spend too many of your dimes?

Too many gifts, too many kisses?

You were too much for me

I risked my life for you, with every imposed act of unprotected sex

Your arms were prison bars to me, your body was a wall I couldn’t make fall

Finally free with the help of geography, I set to work separating you from me

I told you so many times that your love was toxic for me

You cared only for yourself, I was an object on your shelf

We both gave up the chance to be with dozens of other lovers

I gave you the best years of my life and you riddled them with strife

I thank you for all of that, even though being trapped in an unhealthy relationship damn near killed me

You were my drinking buddy and my drunk enemy

You never kept the peace for long

A loud grievance about how the world did you wrong was perpetually erupting

Despite the fact that you were a spoiled, silver spoon over-fed blond haired, blue-eyed white American male

Honey, your complaining is still ringing in my ears

You gave me the time of my life, never after

Our friends went out of their way to keep us apart because the damage we caused each other was so painful for them to watch

Our approaches to life are opposite

I ask what I can give

You ask what you can take

No wonder you were so fond of me

You want without end

I could never satisfy you

I am at peace now, and I wish the same for you

I no longer feel torn by my simultaneous love and loathing for you

I feel only grateful to have survived our relationship

It was almost too much

Reality

You’re creeping on my heart

Changing my reality

When did you start moving in

Did you ask me

When will you pick up after yourself

You’re changing my reality

Fast-forward a year or two

I’ve grown to accept you

I’d still like you to clean up your mess

You’ve changed my reality

I care about you as a person, and how you treat me as a person

I don’t mind your broke down truck or your empty wallet

We are rich in love

We are supported by a foundation of spiritual love

Thank you for changing my reality

My Man

My man wants to know how many men I’ve had sex with.

I tell him the truth: I don’t know.

I don’t feel the need to know how many times I’ve been raped. I have no desire to quantify the horror, shame or mistakes. I might explode with rage if I focused on those who eagerly traumatized me for their own pleasure.

During my employment as a happy-ending masseuse, I ended up giving much more than the hand jobs I signed up for. Now I’m trying to create a happy ending for my own life but my man keeps asking me about the past. His questions awaken violent emotions in me.

The customers who paid for hand-jobs knew that I wouldn’t call the police when they raped me because I’d be incriminating myself.

My only crime was being born below the poverty line. Self-abuse and self-neglect were ingrained in me by my parents.

I was hungry and trying to get an education I couldn’t afford. I was told ‘here is the ladder you must climb to reach a better life.’ I set to climbing. I solved my financial problems creatively.

My man fixates on the absence of the number of men. I’d tell him if I knew, maybe.

His questions feel invasive and probing.

I used to be valued by men for what I could give- my young, beautiful body.

Now I am devalued by my man for what I have given men.

Men only value women in relation to other men.

When will I be seen as my own person, my own human, inherently invaluable?

My man bemoans what I don’t know; the quantity of traumas too numerous to count, too common to stand out in my blurred memory.

Yet he doesn’t complain about the food I put on his plate, the home I make, or the bills I pay.

I implore him to wait, let me tell my story when I feel ready. I don’t think I’ll ever feel ready. When he asks me about my sexual history I feel ill, anxious and hurt.

I find my breath, reassure myself that he didn’t mean to inflict suffering, and flirt with forgiveness. I remind myself that my spiritual groundedness is stronger than even my exaggerated stress response, my current perceived crisis.

He knows that I was a pushover, pretty and poor. For all of his scheming, jealousy and time spent thinking about me, you’d think my man would connect the dots.

Rip

How do I rip myself from you?

You who I’ve given so many years to.

How do I rip myself from you?

You who I’ve give so many tears to.

How do I separate my voice from yours?

How do I separate my mind from yours?

How do I separate my body from yours?

We shared so many things, we even got up to sing in front of the whole world.

You were my guy, I was your girl

How do I rip myself from you?

I’m all black and blue trying to rip myself from you.

You and I had insatiable appetites

For good times and long fights

Adventure called and we always heeded it.

We made love, so much love

We just couldn’t beat it

Even though we were up all night

And all day

We couldn’t keep our dissatisfaction at bay

I could never satisfy you

You could never satisfy me

Here we are, at last far from one another

Yet I still feel you inside me

I still feel you beside me

I feel your hands in my empty hands

I don’t understand

What good will it do

To remain wrapped up in you

When I could never satisfy you

And you could never satisfy me

Tsunami

I want to go with you to the place beyond words

The place where our bodies do the talking in that effortless language

I want to go with you to the place where we first met and knew in an instant what we wanted

The place where a wordless message was exchanged by forces unseen, forces that move us ever closer

Forces more powerful than a tsunami

Strong

Let’s start where we are

At the end of my rope again
Wanting to kill my body to liberate my spirit
Free myself from the grips of your jealousy
Your hands can’t grasp the air, can’t contain that which is intangible
Only the heart can do that
I want to throw a wrench and stop the drama-go-round with a screeching halt
Would it shake you awake from the illusion of reality?
Would it finally lift your veil?
I have felt hunted by you my whole life
How refreshing to be the one to hold the knife
I want to get out of my own way
I balance a negative thought with a positive one
Remind myself that I create my life each moment through perception, attention, intention
Even now, you are another a poppy in the field, trying to keep me knocked out instead of awake, empowered, enlightened
Wrapped up in visions of destruction, I remind myself that I have a choice every moment
I turn my mind’s eye to that which uplifts me, and give a wink
How much more energy would I have for that which I love if I let go of that which I loathe?
I don’t have to prove that I am strong anymore
I don’t have to take your shit anymore
You are the one who needs strength
At my best, I pray for you and the healing of our relationship
At my worst, I fantasize about taking a shit on your grave

What I Learned in College

What I learned in college:

I learned that suicide hurts forever in the hearts of those left behind.

I learned the sweetness of Spring after the darkest Winter night.

I learned, too late, not to drink too much alcohol on a date.

I learned, too late, that not using condoms can lead to more than AIDS.

I learned, the hard way, that HPV can cause cancer.

I learned that I am too generous to make a living as an exotic dancer.

I learned that even the finest meal doesn’t taste good when my body pays the bill.

I learned that slow and steady is my pace.

I learned that life is not a race.

I learned, through time, what friendship looks like.

I learned that self/spiritual love is the most important relationship in my life.