Pining

Why am I still hung up on something I know I’ve lost? Why does he still haunt my dreams? Why can’t I get through a day without thinking of him? I don’t call. I don’t write. I sit. I wonder. I really have changed. Thanks to him.
I think about how I cared for him. I think about how much I loved him. It hurts me to think that I will never feel that way again. I may find love. I may find happiness. But I’ll never find that. It will always be set apart from all the rest.
I say I don’t care about meeting men—and I don’t, really. I had the man of my dreams right in front of me for three years. But I wasn’t good enough for him. I’ve got to be good enough for someone, right?

Fighting the Active Imagination

Because you were hurt so deeply by the words of someone who means nothing in the world you have created for yourself your insanity haunts me You act cool but you’re different You’ve been censored by the uncensored one and now your difference your inconsistent behavior is wearing on me Making me wonder if your insanity spreads to that of harming someone who has harmed you so deeply with words meant for the bloggers Your air your aura your vibe has me sick with the paranoia of a crazy man Does that make me crazy too or just crazy from the insanity you have spilled into my brain What if you flip out What if you hurt me physically for the emotional turmoil I put you through so unsuspectingly Will you sabotage me for something I did so innocently Will you get wasted at the Christmas party and cause an uproar because that’s what your insides want you to do Inhibition-less you might When you see me arrive with the two other people who have silently ruined the life you lead in your head will you cry or die inside and freak out by pulling the gun from your pants and killing us all for harming your so sensitive ego Will you confront me again You’ve got me freaked out over something I never intended for you to see You’ve got me just as paranoid as you insanity makes you I hate that I have to work with you every day I hate that I have to feel your stare and hear you stomp by my desk wondering if I’m blogging about you…Well, I am.

Stewing

Yes, you got under my skin. Yes, the things you said escaped my brain while I dealt with extenuating bullshit. But now, as I sit, watching you scowl at me from across the room, listening to your bitterness as it permeates from your bruised ego, I think to myself, “How the fuck dare you!” How dare you tell me that my need to brush up on rules and regulations demeans your college degree! Shit, if that’s the case, you demean my fucking degree by the way you take more than a year to finish one project that is littered with fucking mistakes. Mistakes!! And I demean your degree?!?! What the fuck do you do all day? Stew about the fact that I blog about you? Cry and moan on the inside because you fucking suck?! Blog You!

Epiphany

With the death of my stepfather, it has come to my attention that the destruction of the dreaded “Three” has come to a close. They say bad things happen in 3s. Bad things did happen, very bad things, deadly things, and if what they say has any bearing on reality, then I’m good to go.
Bad Thing #1: My life came to a screeching halt when You Know Who stomped on my heart. (Yes, I am still bitter.)
Bad Thing #2: My world came crashing down when my mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lymphoma.
Bad Thing #3: The reality of alcoholism smacked my entire family in the face with the death of my stepfather.

With these bad things in the past, I know my future (and the future of my family) is headed for something great. I’ll move to Japan, my mom will move out of the house that haunts her, and my siblings will grow and learn in a healthy (albeit, not fully sane) environment.

Confusion through Tears

My feelings had
Reached
A plateau of grief
Long before your death.

My anger refused
To show the love
That once existed in my heart

Your death was not
Full of sorrow
For I had already lost
Someone so special
Long ago.

Your death,
Did bring memories
Locked away
Behind the
Drunken Escapades

Memories of
Homemade Halloween costumes
Handmade with love
Created with me in mind.

Memories of laughter
When times were good.
I am so lucky to have experienced that love
Before it was lost.

I miss the man you used to be
And I have for years
But pain runs thick, and
Reeks of Gin.

Although years have passed
Your death has shown
That to forget the memories
Is to forget the love.

I’ll never forget the love.

Knowing

Knowing that we are
Respecting every wish
With loving memory
And long-forgotten
Fondness
Makes my heart
Remember
How much
You Were Loved.

Compiling songs
From years gone by
Remembering how
You closed your eyes
To hear the beat
Feel the Lyrics
Love the music
For the feeling it gave
Reminds me how much
I truly did love you.

Anger masks that love
Until the person’s gone.
Regret does nothing
To remedy
But I know
I loved you
As much as you would allow

And I am proud
To have known you
Before the flood
To remember
The music
The classic moments
And
The Love.

Thank you.

An Angry Loss

“What did you do?”
“What the fuck did you do?”

These were my thoughts
Speeding,
Screaming,
Livid,
Sad
For my family
To support them
And love them
While they dealt with
Yet another disappointment.

“Wherever you are…
I hope you’re at peace.”

This is what you wanted.
This is what you asked for.
This is why you drowned yourself
In the sorrows of your psychosis.
This is why you abandoned us.

You couldn’t see passed
Your pain
Causing
Anguish
Anger
Fear
You didn’t want to deal
Saturated with intoxication
From a love you’ve had for years.

Once so young
So strong
Gradually
Became so distant,
Estranged
Desperate

You’ve missed lifetimes.
You’ve missed love.
You’ve missed helping hands.
You’ve missed the unity of a family.

Who will miss you?
You’ve been away for so long.
Nothing will change.
Everything will stay the same.

You wanted this to happen.
You wanted nothing
You wanted isolation
The world had let you down.

Now it’s left for us to hold.
Look what let us down.

The weight of your addiction
Finally lifted
Remains
Sodden
With once-told lies
Excuses
Nothing
Behind closed doors.

We opened our arms to you
We opened our hearts
We tolerated everything
For nothing
But guilt in return

We waded in your self-pity
We groveled at your feet

So tired
So worn
So angry
With contempt
We grieved your choice

While supporting your health
Forcing you to comply
Destroying denial
Bringing you face to face

With the addiction
That tore us apart.

This is what you wanted.

Paranoia Con't (*a corporate tangent)

The past two days
Have been filled with
Secret Meetings
Silent Entrances
Accusing Stares
While trying to
Maintain
An air of
Normalcy

You can’t fool me.

I hate being paranoid
Especially in a place
That puts on this
Façade:
Familial Atmosphere
My Ass

You can’t fool me.

You haven’t fooled me
Or any of your normal
Hard-working employees
Instead you have pushed them—
You have pushed US—
To the edge
Forced us to find a way
Out of this
Hell Hole

This dark, dank place
Full of
Judgments
Gossip
Underpaid Employees
and
Overpaid Employees—
They think they rule the world.

Just like you.
Power Hungry
Eating up every ounce of
Integrity you once had

Abusing the system
For the dollar
So benevolently made

You can’t fool me.

You’ve found people
Who care,
Who love the cause
Who strive for the perfection
Necessary
For your Success

But you take advantage of them
You Target them
You Disrespect them
And expect them to comply.

One day, the judgments
Will turn
The money
Will burn
And you will
Be alone
In the Hell you created

Through your conspiracy theories
Paranoid antics
Useless accusations
And an unwillingness
To Compromise.

You haven’t fooled anyone.

Paranoid Effects

I’ve never been truly paranoid until now.
I don’t want to stop writing.
I don’t want to stop blogging.

But what if my secret gets out?

I am drawn to writing,
Advertising my thoughts
Thrilled by the idea of the world
Knowing what I’m thinking.
Agreeing
Disagreeing

Thankful for my honesty.

The paranoia stems from you
Your inability to deal with the truth
Your desire to make everyone feel worse than you do
Your pompous arrogance
Your shameless comments

And I’m the one you’re trying to censor?

You think you’ve won,
And for now,
I’m forced to succumb
To my sensitivity
My paranoia
Created by you
And your wandering eyes

You haven’t won
—Blog away!—

I must.

You’re the loser
One harmless, utterly painless
Series of thoughts
Hurting you to the core of your manhood

For a writer
Scared into submission
At the thought of losing her job
Because you can’t handle the truth
About yourself
Has provided her with
An obsession to write

Uncensored

Without your approval
Because of your disapproval

Your idle threats
Your scared, rabbit eyes
Stone-cold through the day
Tears streaming on your pillow in the darkness
Why?

Mutual contempt.

All this wasted energy
To appease your bruised ego
And censor an innocent writer

Sleep soundly now
The blogs have been destroyed
No one would have known it was you
Anonymous to the world you were

My honesty cut you.
Our confrontation surprised you.
You had no idea I would stand by my words
You thought your brute strength would scare me into

Apologetic vomiting

Wrong again
And now
You have a writer
Angry with you
Disgusted by you

Be careful, foe

You have turned yourself into
A writer’s nemesis.

I’m not a bad person.
I like that I’m "open to a fault"
Can’t part of liking ourselves mean liking our faults?
I don’t like being fake
I don’t like it when people have to guess
I like them to know
I like to offer up the information
Through a look
a word
or a blog
I like that I’m uncensored.