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I can’t even deal with this. Life is such a bitch.

You think your happy, you are lulled into a sense of security. You’re perhaps in love. Then you start to see the flags. Not quite red but definitly a bright orange. It harkens your mind to relationships youve had before. Relationships where you were so in love those flags were so red they had damn near evaporated and everyone but you could see them. You tell yourself despite the warnings that you’re overreacting and to just calm down. Things begin to get slowly out of hand, your world spins around you, the nausea kicks in, now you see them. The flags, clear as day. Why does this always happen to you? You thought she was “The one” as your world comes to an abrupt stop, you begin to fall, someplace so dark, so deep that you can no longer even see where you started.

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Quantify a mothers

Love

On a thousand

Calculators

As i give you the

Story of

Persephone

And the darkest angel

She dared to covet

Woefully

Gazed demeter forward

As her eyes looked ever

Shoreward

Thinking about

How many heartbeats

Before she allowed the sea

To have her?

Locked in an ever

Spiraling trance

Offered

Luck no not a chance

For our greiving mother

Summer

Clawing hopelessly through

Time and space

She wondered

Honestly

Who would take her

Chaste

springtime daughter

And so deprive;

Such a thoughtless world

So Contrived

Of springtime

And risk its dying?

Oblivious to her mothers

Cries

Inwardly Persephone could

Not deny

How she had come to love him

A sheepish grin here

Did not create

Gave so much more to

The threads of fate

Love blooming

Deep in the earth

Tartartus suffered

Not only a flower

but under

Loves full and tragic power

As springtime set in

Where it had never

This as

demeter considered

The cold day in hell

Her springtime daughter

Would fall under the spell

Of a darkness that never shines

Woe to her the darkness

Contort

Such a frail

Yet forward sort

And so it be

They made a deal

Which the annuls of herstory

Would come to seal

Spring would come to the

Earth but once a year

And this dark love

Now allowed to bloom

Would become the darkones

Boon

He could find her

Even in a sea of faces

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Medusa could barely see

In the dark

As she stumbled one foot

Dutifly in front of the other

Between cave walls

Makeshift glasses would have to

Work

The dream itself still

Far more real

Than tangled bedsheets

And stone boys

This one would go nicely

In someones courtyard

She was becoming known

For her lifelike skulpts

The glasses

they worked

To magnify

Pain,

suffered from lifetimes

Of woman

called monsters

In the darklight of a one night stand

Medusa was nothing

if not compassionate

to her sisters

Her hair writhed

as it too woke

from a long slumber

It, they made eye contact

stared down at her wordlessly

As her own darkness quivered

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Today i went to the beach

To gaze out to the sea

Strange because

I did not have my tail

Our father down below

Would not suffer such mortals

Had he known what i had endured

At the hands of scaleless men

And finless woman

Tridents would chisel

Through careless chests

Before they realized father

Death had come to claim them

My song is a hard one

One laced with pain

The blood of my ancestors

Hung upon hooks

Their fat smeared from lips

In the name of humanity

Where was their humanity?

The day i lost my tail?

Somewhere here…along the sand

Where i searched for my own

Humanity…

Before the men came

Held me down

A closed throat cannot sing

So here i stand

Beside my reaper

As he weeps for me

And my father continues

To search

Everyday

Down below.

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This kid is so upset, crying and sobbing loudly, losing their mind because I was out and wasn’t clear on certain hangups. Their brother touched their guitar that they customised themselves. They frequently touch their brother’s instruments. I pointed this out. That’s the long and short of it.

One day while @thenightshadesymposium was at work, a guy who used to live here (that whole thing was a bit traumatic for all involved) whom has a self diagnosed personality disorder (not saying anything about you guys who can’t see a doc just stating facts) got truly pissed at the kid because the kid flew into a rage one night, went into his room and started destroying shit, knocked over his dresser, started kicking shit, (there are ferrets that share their room that could have gotten seriously hurt) and so the guy overreacted. He too flew into a rage and started taking their shit, packing it up and putting it in the hallway, to give back later when they were calm and ungrounded. It scared us when it went down we called our partner home from work. They sat lost their shit on him and gave the kid’s stuff back.

Because this is a divorce and everything is a weapon, the child has unfortunately been weaponised. Their father has told them everything was our fault. He has waged a campaign of torture on us for six months. He is gleeful that we do not have a place to stay. So naturally, they are blaming the entire situation on us saying we took their things and this is why they are so hurt and crying because we took their stuff. Hearing the sobbing from the stairwell his mother, one of our hosts and the one who bore him wants to run to him, wants to wrap him in her arms and i can feel the leak. It’s not my role to care but for some reason this hurts deeply, because his father won’t let us near him. I guess this is why we’ve been really quiet lately.

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Why is everything a motherfucking “event” with a teenager?

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Kavan Cardoza aka Kavan The Kid (American, based Seattle, WA, USA) - A Ghosts Past, 2018  Photography

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Do children bounce?

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Tonight I’m going to try hypnosis. Don’t know what it does for trauma, guess we’ll see.

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I’m going to start a band and name it gleeful panic:)

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Today I married my lover. Tarot Juarez. He spent nearly a lifetime denying his own and I am fully Bisexual and Polyamorous. I could not see a lifetime without either one of them. Their side of the bed is one that I would consider empty were it absent of any of you. Today i did something not lightly done. I plunged my dagger to the hilt into your scabbard. I said that word into your beautiful tanned ear. Loving so deeply the things that in their absence I’d normally consider a vacation. I giggled.

Considering, your body with all of you present is trilingual. You do tend to forget your hostess’s first language when you are in pain of any sort, preferring instead your native Spanish. The sway of your own hips, your sandy blonde hair, your tanned skin. A remnant of yourself, a ghost of you.

A bus ticket to Mexico and 45 hours later and I was in your arms; marriage lisence in tow, remembering that in as little as 45 hours and a secret punk show later what we hold so dear, our whispered promises atop silk sheets, tears falling soundlessly between us, all of it would be considered null and void by people we’ve never met.so it went a race against the clock and against beliefs forced on you by a father and a world uncaring

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There's nothing wrong with being a sex worker, or with enjoying sex work

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Never painted out here before..

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Loved this picture had to share

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the lea michele situation is actually a prime example of why we should be wary of performative activism right now. if you are supporting the cause by protesting, donating, posting your support, etc. that’s great! but this problem goes so much deeper than just police brutality.

every single non-black person who has posted #blacklivesmatter this week needs to take a step back and analyze whether or not their actions (not just their words) have shown that they truly believe that statement. it’s a clear and obvious choice to speak out against the brutal murder of an innocent man. however, if you are not making the obvious choice every day to speak up for us when your friends/relatives make racist jokes, if you are not listening to and respecting the black people you know in real life, if you have not sat down to analyze the ways you actively benefit from this system, if you have not worked to start unlearning the biases you were raised with, or if you thought “black lives matter” was a controversial statement until this week, do not pretend to care just because everyone is talking about it right now.

when these protests are over, there will still be many battles to fight. this is not a game, and this is not something you post about just for likes and clicks. if you are resting easy right now thinking that you’re “one of the good ones” for showing public outrage over a situation that should anger any reasonable person, you need to do more. racism is not something you can pick and choose when to be against. we don’t get to pick and choose when we experience racism. so if you’re going to get involved with this situation right here, right now, then you need to be ready to hold yourself and others accountable for anti-blackness in all other areas of your life.

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HEY IF YOURE IN THE US. CONGRESS IS TRYING TO END ENCRYPTION SO THEY CAN POSSIBLY LIMIT OUR FREEDOM OF SPEECH UNDER "FOR THE CHILDREN" ITS BEEN AT THE START OF THE PANDEMIC AND NOW AT THE SENATE, CALL YR REPS AND TELL THEM YOUR AGAINST THE EARN IT BILL. TELL THEM ITS THE END OF FREE SPEECH.

PLEASE PLEASE SIGN THIS AND REBLOG! IF YR NOT IN THE US AND WANNA TRY, USE A RANDOM US ZIPCODE