avahbyamon

[avahbyamon]

Self-Sabotage

The one thing you are terrified of is being alone Hurtling through life on this rock  Untethered by the moral of gravity Eventually destined to shatter into meaninglessness  Unworthy of description, accomplishment, or reaction Cancer utterly invisible, like UV rays of sunshine's cast farce Warming your cheeks yet sowing seeds of time-delayed destruction  Sliced and slivered emotion whittled down to dust  And blown away by lies and disguise into nothing.  And yet you take your tools and build this  makeshift  bullshit  treefort  on a rotton tree  in the middle of this godforsaken burning island  of self doubt and self pity and self hatred and self sabotage Wanting someone to rescue you  but constantly insisting on shooting point-blank  every. single. person. who has even attempted to love you.

You are the reason you are alone, now.  You're too old to blame anyone else but your own hand. 

Monster! Monster up in a tree! Think she's hiding but she's plain to see Pacing between the boughs, stalking self-sufficiency and hobbled by need Cauterizing vulnerability with a brand of arrogance Yet everyone can see her gnarled face cloaked in shame Why do you kill the very thing you desperately desire?!

Imposter! You don't make any sense! I can't understand you!  Where transparency and authenticity could bring connection and community and intimacy You've chosen to cling to your decaying branches and wail your pity-song, A performance of one before an audience of none. Even you would have walked quickly by Gaze averted from this minstrel's choking screech. 

Traitor!  You betray and traumatize and gaslight and evade and omit and destroy just to never experience the risk of abandonment Isolating your Self behind walls stiffened by habit, reinforced by trauma. There have been some who have scaled the stones in search of you But who can know for sure who it is that they are looking for? Those who have invested in your romance have been fine-dined with deceit Slow-danced with betrayal, cheek-to-cheek with a mask What are you afraid will happen if you actually arrived unarmored? Who would show up?

Even you don't know, and yet you do everything you possibly can to make sure you are never Known. 

[avahbyamon]

(co)Dependency

Part of me wishes this self-prescribed autotherapy was sustainable because some of the time I see it makes him feel whole... a choice of life, a life-choice... a freedom? a free will execution? A pause in motion A Stop Time. Soaring, scratching, skipping, screeching, solosexual spiraling Scavenger hunting in the basement boxes, plotting and planning potential projects that promise a path of progression, and then maybe ROAD TRIP! Energy Monster, Master, mango and ice in a red cup in the red vein in the flesh of the refrain Picking poking pricking placing PERFECTLY on line in the vintage pin cushion like a porcupine AND if its not perfect, nearly surfeit, never perfect, agitation but maybe worth it shaky angry, but surely n.e.x.t. t.i.m.e. Power thirst seeking sensation satiation, day one to day threefoursiiixxxseveneightten Sleep is elusive, evasive, invasive, wakeful deterioation a waste of the worlds potential, This stagnation its mine Mine mine mine all of it, well besides Time, 'course never time Never Time, trying times, turning mime, black and white, losing Kind, "Im feeling FINE", migraine-shine, forgot the rhyme---

Then, Darkness

...becomes an unknown creature that has its own interests, ideas, and intents, In tense present, past, and future Intense, resident alien in familiar skin Desperate dream-shattering dissassociation distortion of dominance, dipping down from euphoria, shards of the glass-globed paranoia breaking the skin of the souls of my submission Tip toeing, walk-wading through the Astral Plane's waiting room becoming the Void, a flesh-farce mirrored echoes face-to-face. I wanted my Person back, but I dont get him back now... Swallowed fated slow-death A coma of helpless depression A manufactured steel cylindar, a hollow, dilation, A silo of doom, A metal pit with bleeding walls, Unclimbable, irreparable, inescapable, Socially unacceptable separation, cessation, exiled and unattainable Expectation impossible societally-inappropriate commercially-unapproachable population-imperceivable Behavior-beyond relatable...

Who is this character who warms my bed? Whos fingers do I long to pat my head? A secret locked up for my journal's ears only Carrying this family's burden of proof instead Of ending my love affair with the dream, now dead? Rose-colored glasses turned red, tears shed, anxiety meds, therapist said "Never forget your value's unmet, you were ahead!" Why do you stay? Shame's Homestead Setting a stake in cyclical regret Why would you let this happen? You left me to fly Too close to the sun Like Ichorus' kid

And here I am waiting For you to come back Here I am waiting, waiting for the promised relief Familiar life within familiar sheath Familiar heart beating underneath Familiar poses, familiar metal on my chest The spare-keys jingle of familiar guest Crunching through the pile of leaves The turn of the lock, the click of the teeth Creak of the door...

I'm patient, see?! Impatiently Imposter syndrome tormenting me "You're no nurse doctor or maid Passionate scholar of life, yet no psych degree How can his safety be YOUR warranty?" And it can't. I'm not strong enough- honestly. Im told mindfulness will set me free instead of dissassociating, to try deep breathing BUT THATS NOT ME. I dont want to be free. The only covenant that I know intimately Is unyeilding hope, devout love to service A promise to honor his humaness earnest One deserving of forgiveness

May I be filled with loving-kindness May I be safe and free May I be peaceful and at ease May I be happy. May he be filled with loving-kindness May he be safe and free May he be peaceful and at ease May he be happy.

[avahbyamon]

Rebuilding Time

(You are only making this my problem My problem to fix,  my problem to get over.) My darling, I am so deeply in love with you Six feet under a weight of layered silt and ash  Of burning bridges and lost connections I have rebuilt all of my pillars around the world of “us”,  and to unearth myself means to leave my home behind.  This is the only way I know how to do this You have maybe maintained your core,  A gravity pull that I feel myself orbiting around and around The light of your sun a warmth on my face,  and a frigid cast chill when you’ve turned away.  I see you have tossed your coins about,  I hurry to pick them up.  Deposits of love, of life, of desire and passion.  They are rarely handed to me in my palm,  but laid on the ground to be picked up by passer-by or stand-about.  I’ve stood-about for long,  making a space for my shelter so that my stand-about is forever-loiter.  But I am not quick enough to pick them up,  and someone else is getting your passion in their palm...  Why have I waited so long to speak my desires?  I thought my fear was clear, and  I thought I had more time.  Time enough to feel safe Time enough to grow and heal Time enough to ask for patience.  What does time look like, indeed?  Do I have enough time to rebuild,  reentangle reenmesh I need you to say “I need to reestablish myself with her in this new moment.  Everything has changed, and she needs me.”  This ship is running aground in a new territory of hope and curiosity The storm seems still so close. 

[avahbyamon]

Happy Mothers Day

The one thing I can say I've learned from you is patience... and not the patience-is-a-virtue type of patience... the longsuffering, endurance, survival-with-grit sort of patience.

  Sitting around, standing around, waiting for something to happen but never really knowing how long my suffering will last.

  The patience and perseverance spoken about in this verse: "Consider it PURE JOY my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops patience and perseverance."

  The more suffering, the more joy. The purest of joy. What is joy to an atheist, I wonder? Involuntary elation as a result of something we experience that gives us a momentary lapse in memory that the reality of the rest of our life and the rest of our world is in suffering.  Joy is not as a result of suffering, or because of suffering- perhaps better it is in spite of suffering or even better yet, the absence of suffering.

  I would patiently lie down on the hardwood floor next to your desk, looking up at you, and wished you would talk to me. I longed to know you. This was the closest I could ever get to you, and the closest I ever will.

[avahbyamon]

Edges

I’ve lost my way to finding my identity,  a busy bee going from flower... Black and white sketches all over my face,  Trying to find the definition of the edges of who I am and the shadows of who I’ve been before.

[avahbyamon]

There’s a Reason We Love the City

There’s a reason we love the City

The hive of life, the cycle of initiation and conclusion-

Someone is always starting their day at the

EXACT MOMENT AS NOW, AS NOW

AS RIGHT NOW

RIGHT NOW

RIGHT NOW

And someone is going into labor, at last

Someone is taking their last breath,

Someone deciding that drink was their last

Today was their last day,

that this is the LAST CALLLL

The art of the city comes when you stand on the tallest point and look down down down

on all of the little people and things and goings about

They rush about, or saunter, or laze,

all thinking individually about their personal narrative from their own focal perspective.

Who is that and where are they going?

Do they know they are being perceived?

That they are the supporting character to the storylines of everyone around them,

simply NPCS who carry the 3Dimensional weight of immersion,

oftentimes nameless and faceless, just swathes of color and breath and voice to fill the ambience of Time.

The art of the city comes when you stand on the tallest point and look down down down

on all of the little people and things and goings about

They rush about, or saunter, or laze,

all thinking individually about their personal narrative from their own focal perspective.

Who is that and where are they going?

Do they know they are being perceived?

That they are the supporting character to the storylines of everyone around them,

simply NPCS who carry the 3Dimensional weight of immersion,

oftentimes nameless and faceless, just swathes of color and breath and voice to fill the ambience of Time.

At least in the city we are faced with the pressure of the presence of the "other" not ourselves and forced to check our arrogance of perceived personal space.

How private is privacy? Am I entitled to it?

Or do I have to constantly negotiate

and collaborate

and cooperate

and communicate

and delegate with the other humans around me,

knit together folks inside this breathing structure of endless concrete and metal,

the only breath of the city is our own-

a sigh of relief

a gasp of surprise

a hollar of notice

a snide comment

a teachable remark

a whistle

a song

a breath.

There's a reason we love the City

Its not hard to be reminded that we are indeed alive,

that our entitlement is questioned, our presence is scrutinized.

My question of existence is reacted upon by my own spectating surroundings who respond to my prod in favor or in complaint.

I think therefore I am?

Nay, Descartes,

We don’t ever go that far anymore.

If I push, the city pushes back

and the rough edges of the boundaries

of where I end and IT begins

Reminds me that

indeed, INDEED

I am.

And if Im not getting on the bus, I better

GET OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!"

[avahbyamon]

Awake!

Light filtering through panes of glass

Wrapping rays around the wrists and ankles of those creeping around the house to find “awakeness” in the corners.  Cups designed to collect such a feeling and promise have been manufactured for ages but their attempt to scoop up the elicit, elusive sparks of joy,  they immediately fill with darkened soup,  a concoction of compulsion and desire and need to be drinken heavily by those creatures who who cannot adhere severely enough to their flesh and bone

without an assist. 

[avahbyamon]

Casualty

I am running Running on the battlefield Bombarded by the devastation of the destruction obliteration,  carnage absolution anarchy descended from above. Barefoot on the sharp rocks debris and shards of sod,  I have cast my weapon aside.  I am no longer a soldier,  never an assailant,  and they are coming for me.  I can hear the trumble, trumble, trouble of their tanks ascending on the hill,  crushing the bodies under foot.  The smoke makes it impossible to see,  smell,  hear, My souls are bleeding,  my fingertip grasping at the resemblance,  the semblance of freedom.  The pursuit of life,  the pursuit of breath.  My sweat pours down my brow, marching across my blood and dirt,  Alchemy of Entropy... the flesh of my carcass  tearing open and revealing the foundation of doubt to the world.  My partner, my love.  You were beside me a second ago.  A mere moment of time stands between your presence and my broken ascent.  Tears, screaming your name A casualty of the same race from Blood The gore stalking your footsteps  and snuffing out your breath.  Asphyxiation in the name of Grace.

They showed you no mercy.  Your dreams were pinched out,  trails of smoke following the removal of light and the entrance of darkness.  One by one, they came for you.  And you succumbed to them.  You let our your last breath,  and handed over your lungs to their crushing reproach.  A casualty of our present similar experience!  I dont dare turn around to see your mangled body.  Your beautiful brain.  Your soft lips.  You used words to dance before you and plead your case before the divine Your ears heard music everywhere Your hands bore the small calluses of one who played the strings of life delicately, intricately, intentionally.  Why was I determined to live, and you elected to die?  Don’t they know what they are doing?  “Run! Run!  No time to think, no time to look back.  The smoke will claim your breath too!  Get Free! Get Free! Get Free!” 

I couldn’t consider the cost of his loss in that moment.  I couldn’t save him.  I’m sorry I couldnt save him.  I’m sorry I am free here alone.  I’m tired of fighting .  I’m tired of running.  If it was bad enough that someone had to die, 

When will it be good enough that someone has to live? 

[avahbyamon]

Death to Self

Death used to be something I would only experience temporarily, like a portal from one world to the next, or an elevator ride from the lobby to my hotel floor. We talked about death a lot growing up, but it was also only focused on as a side effect of sin. We were eternal beings that were called to embrace perfection, yet in our curiosity, we consumed brokenness. Death to self to embrace life was the regular mantra. The identity that consumed me was wholly imperative in order to gain that eternal reward, rather than eternal death and suffering. Even if the belief (it was never clear to me what was to be believed, since I was told so many things) was not eternal suffering, but merely eternal separation from G-d. But there was another death that no one talked about. The daily imminent death that I begged for and waited for every waking moment of my little years. I was tormented every day with the little monsters inside of me- those things I was called to kill and set aside to abide in Christ but never. stayed. dead. And with the thorn in my side (as Paul would call it), I was tortured and tested and turned over and over in the palm of the Saviors hand, told to "Be Still" and "Rest" and "Abide" and "Take a step out in faith". People don't know, but I begged my Lord to bring me home every day; I pleaded with him to just stop testing me and call me home already! Before I took my own life to stop the torture, and chose death as the only way to stop the constant pain. Every single continued breath and choice to live tore me apart, and I hoped that it would bring me the reward of joy and freedom and relief, like I was promised. I never knew I would grow up, in fact, I hoped I wouldn't have to. During this PRIDE, being 30 years old, I feel l like I have lost a lot of my life fighting, waging a war against Death. The little demons that I lived with have left my arms scarred, my body marred, and my mind irreparably broken. I have chosen a path of healing, but that doesn't mean that a life of joy will ever come without pain. I have come out once before, to try and take a gasp for air above the water and see if it was possible to live a life of authenticity rather than aching, stitched together with these thorns of shame as a crown like Christ. Let me introduce you to myself! I am the one who dances around and shows you how happy I am by showing you my finger nails. I get my hair braided, and I play in the dirt with my kids. I make fires, and string up lights in my backyard, and paints with crayons and heat, and tells stories that make people cry. I am a woman, and I am queer, I am an atheist. I have ADHD, and maybe am a little bit on the spectrum. I have C-PTSD. I hold my friendships tightly. I love intensely. I want to make a million dollars a year. I have a future! I have a five year plan! I refuse to be alone! I refuse death every day, still, but now with emphasis, with enthusiasm, with anticipation, and with vulgarity. Happy PRIDE MONTH! Affirming your gay and lesbian and queer and ace and trans children is SUICIDE PREVENTION. Loving unconditionally and educating yourself is saving lives. I know people personally who are still struggling daily with continuing to choose life. Why choose death for them by not affirming them? If your religion asks you to expel these children of G-d, your religion is not of a loving G-d. These children, too, are made in the image of G-d, the G-d of Life, and Love. "I'm tired of tending to this fire I've used up all I've collected I have singed my hands It's glowing Embers barely showing Proof of life in the shadows Dancing on my palms

They know that its almost over The burning is so low its concerning Cause they know that when it goes out Its a glorious gone Its only time before they show me Why no one else comes back with details from beyond In time I will leave the city For now I will stay alive... Last year, I needed a change of pace Couldn't take the pace of change Moving hastily But this year, though I'm far from home In Trench, I'm not alone These faces facing me..."  (21 Pilots, Leave the City)

[avahbyamon]

[avahbyamon]

Not Myself

[avahbyamon]

Writing Slowly

Its hard to write nowadays

The inspiration is too far out of reach- and I have no idea why. 

My life is finally happy again, and easy, and light, and full of love. 

But that seems to have wiped away all of my art-

and that is just depressing me...

[avahbyamon]

Listen, Can I Be Smart?

Listen, Can I Be Smart? Can I be smart, like in something? Does smart mean not stupid? Does smart mean not ignorant? Not narrow minded? Not emotional? Not biased? Listen, Can I Be Smart? Can you love me for my brain? Like, ignore my body Ignore my breasts Ignore my lips Ignore my lungs Can I just be a mind or a train of thought? Listen, Can I Be Smart? Does that mean I can't have feelings? Does that mean I can't be irrational? Does that mean I can't forget? Can I hold on to the pain? Do I have to forgive?

[avahbyamon]

Silence in, sit we.

We sit in silence Hesitating as the night Collects itself Hovers over us Waiting to unravel. The grass is cool, The shadows haunt our memories Casting beautiful artwork sketched into our stories Brick work building towering over the cascade of the river’s rapid fall over the edge. You shudder I retreat Tetris shapes illuminate the conceptual height and something clicks In the echo of the amtrak In between the slotted billows of the moon lit clouds We turned to eachother And you kissed me. We sit in silence.

We sit in silence. The fugitive figurines of our game march in an army between us And you’re ever so far away Increasingly, achingly, chillingly Your gaze arrests me Tests me I inquire about your love And you answer with intensity. I can only count the ways we physically clicked, But emotionally you challenged me to a match of words, wits and wisdom Im trying to keep up In the soft light of the signs outside of my window And the hollow bellows of the underworld in the streets below I knew I loved you And I kissed you. We sit in silence.

We sit in silence. You’re so far away My heart can feel each inch, foot, and mile as a dagger’s stab into my still beating heart Never before have I suffered the arrest of feeling as this Pain delivered on a welcomed platter among the other delights of your presence My body tightens as I remember I can’t remember how you feel but faintly But that is enough to long for your aura Children play at this with wily curiosity And movies josh and kid on the subject Always missing the center focus of it But never shattering the reality, fantasy, vibrancy You call me on my phone, In the quiet hours of the early morning As I hold my breath to keep the nerves inside, you tell me you love me Your pursuit is to maintain my sanity My strength evades you But I release my breath in almost- relief. Weak from a long attack of overwhelmed emotional relapse I believe you In my daylight fascinations and moonlight commutes I trust you And I miss you. We sit in silence.

We sit in silence. Condemnations among considerations We both fear to scare the other away Our integration of our life’s ambition, ingrained and intertwined We seek the possibilities of the future with a pain and a passion A strength and a suspicion You hold me tonight But tomorrow you might have to be gone Only to find your way back into my arms, between the pillars of my unsheltered constitution I desire you Destined for greatness I need you Encumbered by the enclave of our secret memoirs and poems and ramblings I cherish you Follow through by my own understanding of the labor and loyalty required to build this home of securities I love you I will care for you I will call out your name on the wrath of the night, against the shadow of death, against the chilling silhouette of hardship, No doubt in my mind of the sweat, ache, blood, and tears will be worth my effort. One hundred and forty three years I dedicate to your name And thrice that to your memory I hear you breathing besides me My dreams haunt me You cover every surface of mine with the bass of your voice I hear you I love you We sit in silence.

[avahbyamon]

The Wolf

I want my tongue on your flesh and taste the warmth and the salty moisture of your skin. This animal spirit within me is the aggressor, and you are the prey. Though often docile and submissive, I feel the wrath of lustful desire within me and I can't help but roar your name. The distance intensifies my longing for you, your presence is the only thing that will swiftly satisfy my ravenous need. Who have I become, without you? Just a wandering, starving wolf in search of her clan.

[avahbyamon]

There's a little more to this life than the hustle, than the struggle... We juggle work, school, and life And I want to stop I want to find that "little more" And enjoy it, with you For a little while

[avahbyamon]

I want this. I want to make this. Omg.