Kiri

Park with the Small Tree and Blue & Green Jungle Gym

It's the sparse care of a body’s form in all its glory and all its needs. It is like a young tree asking for water’s embrace

and a back turned finds it instead.

The harm of self that angers me

is akin

as one too

to the stuck thoughts, energies building pressure upon the inner skull of a head overburdened and begging to burst.

The words of asking for solace, from Source that are resisted in their coat of inacceptable

that like a bright blue plastic slide sat in the sun stuck on straight skin, unbearable.

Let it cool let it rest let all the rest of you catch up and find the whole park, the whole jungle gym, without and within, on the same page, being willing.

And change comes.

Slippery, Static: Fantasy

Relationships are hard and fantasy is no place to set up shop

Such ease can be and incredible pain can also show up and morph its way into ages of suffering

For me, for us it's a feeling of stuck

Galoshes in the muck and just enough water to form a membrane Just enough that my own brains belly head and heart are just as lost in the static

Things aren’t changing our pattern remaining is only draining me now

When its not filling me up with lust until I overflow and must face the Emptiness that was there ever since

That morning The moment after you realized what you did and the grooves revealed themselves

now on the plain of thoughts and actions

I didn’t know what breaking felt like and I kept it a secret from myself for months Until Venus retrograded through the sky and so did I Somehow the more layers those weeks of deep dives provided offered me the love so real to come to light too

Except it wasn’t welcome

Not in my eyes and not in hers. Anymore Or ever

So why did it grow so furiously

Couldn’t be helped

Emotions are like the water and wind; cant be held or held down in your hands

A team must be called in to support stable structure for its storm to explode instead in a way that hurts us all less

But awakens us to the mess that is ready for our own hands.

I can only imagine But its not a fantasy this time The pieces fit and I want to grow from it

This foundation is making way for Me to be Here fully

This loop that has stripped me of so much presence, energy, attention and time

That was mine to wield not yours

Not for your hard hands that refuse my blooming, Mine

My pain may go on but my suffering concludes here