This painting is small. Reminds me of a strange music note, but I have no title idea so ‘strange music note’ may just stick.
Below is a poem/song I wrote touching on a personal matter I rarely acknowledge that has a place in old, very deep fears. This in particular is about memories in childhood and how I thought my art was and is perceived by my mother and other close relations. How my only worth seemed to come from colors I put to paper. Nothing much else ever really being noticed.
Another picture, for you.
Such a pretty picture,
I knew you would say.
Hasn’t it always been this way?
By these simple painted shades
There is still your smile I can save.
And it’s okay with me
If the heavy lines of drawn eyes are
The only ones to make you see my own
With their pain.
You will understand this all someday.
In your own time, in your own way.
When I leave, you will know
I tried my best.
And the pictures I leave behind
Will save you, dear mother
And the devastating news I got this week: my therapist of nearly 5 years will be retiring in April. Great news for him and I tried my best to smile and said my congratulations, but really I felt an awful hurt swell within. He told me this news right before I was set to hand over a small gift. A cd of a few songs linked back to discussions in my therapy sessions over the years, and one new song dedicated specifically to him about my gratitude. So not only was I sinking fast over the fact I’ll be out on my own again and have to start with someone else, I felt foolish and ashamed I did not see it coming sooner. The past two days have been spent with teary eyes and a lifeless feeling inside.
The only thing I’m appreciative about knowing what I know now is that I will be able to say goodbye…He’s helped me further along than anyone else and I wouldn’t change anything at all if it were my choice. I will miss very having such a safe person and place to turn to.
Good one, you are.
Inching closer, you welcome him in
Ignoring all hints of caution,
Ignoring the shade that peeks from the
Tear of his worn grin…
Maybe it won’t happen again the way it did,
The way chain knots tighten
Once you think you’ve unraveled them.
It’s unknown in just how you will change,
If courage will have grown or fades when
Faced with the most upsetting of sames
We look up, but the
Moon fell a bit too soon for us to pray.
In moments such as this
I consider my restraint
Gathered in the beauty of this
One last thing I’ve had in me to love enough
I’ll not bring upon the death of.
Today was my final therapy session for the year, the final one before everything is reset again- the insurance and being billed again. I don’t even want to go there…Money once again getting in the way when I’m not worth it anyhow. Guilt I’ll never rid myself of. At least I got one last prescription written (a sleep aide) before I’m on my own again. I said I’d call sometime after I get my footing back with the bakery, assuming I go back once the new year is in.
Whatever though. None of this even matters when I’ve driven myself beyond the limit I touch on in the poem above. There is no ‘one last thing’ anymore. Being this separated from other people…I’m ashamed to admit I’ll never allow anyone to get so close. And what’s the point of going on alone when I know too well what that looks like and how it feels? I want an end – something to close this up for me and end the waiting and feeling I’ve grown sick of trying to bear.
I write this poem some months ago and actually posted it, but then quickly took it down when I realized I could do better for it. So I changed some things around, and I will say it relates to my current place in life in a way. When I say ‘last rose’ I mean the last good thing. The thing I woke up to live for, being gone or becoming unimportant. This is about how that can happen, and when I don’t know what to do to move on, I just want to give up.
This morning’s golden halo
Torched and withered my last rose
Insanity is getting bold
Such misery…I cannot cope
Tears are slipping down my throat
Disturbed shards of a broken soul
Blades and sorrow hold me close
Dreaming far, of dark and cold
Skinless, grotesque, predisposed
Self-destruction’s all I know
Embrace my inner Scorpio
I have a future to disown
I can’t fix the status quo
Life takes too long to let me go
My lies receive a second coat
Pretend to live knowing I won’t