Road Workers and Saviors

     I think the road worker was drunk. You're looking to be saved, and you have followed all of the signs, but you have definitely come to the wrong place. Someone should fire that guy because the sign for Heaven should be going the other way. I do not have wings, and I cannot fly. I am not perfect, and am about as far from as they come. You look to be saved, but I am still figuring out how to save myself if I am being honest. I will carry you as far as I am able, but when I fall short- I apologize in advance.
     I wish I could solve your problems, and take your load, but I am only one person. I will offer you a hand, and the seeds I hope you will use to nourish your body, and carry you the right way on the path to someone better equipped, but if you choose to merely feed them to the birds, or throw them in the dead of the night, and exhaust my resources until I have nothing to give either of us, then I am useless.
     Though the road worker was drunk, and you have come here- you must keep going. I realize you blame your trials- but don't let them define you. .Don't let the fact that the road has been shitty determine that the road will continue to be shitty, YOU ARE BETTER THAN THAT. You DESERVE better than that. You are more than that. I cannot be your savior because only you can choose to save yourself. I don't want to walk away from you, but sometimes knowing health, is in realizing that the only way to save the world is to let it sometimes save itself.

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Things Left Unsaid--Part one of the blog poem series

Snow White As the white silently encloses Covering everything it touches It is so serene And we go back Dawning on white blankets of crystallized cool Sliding into the still of the night. It is you and your thoughts: Just one last gaze at the white- To escape To forget the night. Each night. To forget our thoughts At least- that is what I imagine it to be like. It is calm. Each crystal entering as you lay there Allowing your body to finally be free. White blankets that disregard the worry outside your window Because one more night with this raw person you were Seemed like far too much. So we cover ourselves and watch this peaceful scene as the crystal Sinks. It is the silver snake working its way through skin. And we slumber into transcendence And learn that heaven is white, too It is blues and greys. Red. A clear sky morning. But the earth begins to moan beneath White blankets fade in and out for those left behind. ...

Being Alone

I've thought about it- but I realize that I would probably be better off saving my energy for something else. I would be a fraud were I to deny that the emotions are there. Those emotions, the thoughts- they still wage a war to relinquish control upon my life. They have become so interwoven, they must be gradually peeled back, as if they were intrusive claws being drawn away from a tree in the darkest of storms. The scars that remain are undeniable, and the sound of war is most simply described as deafening. You kind of miss these thoughts, or perhaps these people. It's a twisted, sickening, convoluted game that others may never understand, unless they have been in your shoes- but for those who have been here- I need not go any further. For those who have not- it is the kind of mourning wherein we do not miss the pain of our tormentors or the war's we waged for our sanity. We miss the comfort of never being alon...

Open Letter to The Girl Who Wishes She Had an Eating Disorder

To the girl who wishes she had an eating disorder: Oh, words. There are so many things I would like to tell you in this moment, but all too quickly the time passes. My heart shatters in watching your eyes grow dark in the pain, as I watch you belittle yourself, and absorb the pointed and loaded remarks of society. I am sorry that society has made you feel so inadequate that you have the overwhelming urge to turn against yourself in your quest to find peace and self satisfaction. The satisfaction that society will never give you, and I guarantee you will never get. I am sorry that society has told you your worth in life is based off your size, or how many calories you can deprive yourself, rather than the overflowing compassion that flows from your soul, or the beauty of your free and passionate fiery spirit. I am sorry that society has become the fragile layers of ice upon which we traverse, when they offer no support, and we s...

The Tales of Virago-- A Beautiful Mess

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