Annihilating The Void.

I love my bedroom right now.

It’s warm.  I’m safe, though I wish my door locked.  I’ve always preferred to have bedroom doors that locked.  My sheets are clean.  My dog is snoring on my baby blanket next to me.  I’m in my underwear I’m splitting my time between working on a poem, and trying to write the most heartfelt apology letter I can write to a person who really deserves it.  I periodically stop what I’m doing to do push-ups.  Trying to fight through the depression fog and get back into training for real.  It’s funny, they always talk about how good exercise is for depression.  I feel like everyone neglects how hard it is to want to exercise when you’re depressed.

I feel a little lonely.  I feel content.  I feel hopeful about the future.

This morning when I woke up, the void felt like it was filling every fiber of my being, just that inescapable and inexorable emptiness that is constantly fighting to fill my body.  One of the BPD traits that I struggle the most with is a constant feeling of emptiness.  I decided to just name it.  “The Void”.  Like, if I give that sense of emptiness a name, then it I can identify it as an enemy.  After that, I can learn all of it’s weaknesses.  Once I have learned the void’s weaknesses, then I can destroy it.

In today’s mission to annihilate the void, I managed to get out of bed and go to work.  I managed to do some solidarity work.  Then I got to see my sweetie and one of my best friends for a few minutes.  After that I spent time with a new friend learning about making music.

In a few minutes, I’ll put on an episode of the twilight zone and fall asleep.  Mission accomplished.  Another day survived.

Advertisements
Annihilating The Void.

About a Boy Two: The Hale and the Whole

About a boy Two: The Hale and the Whole

Tears trace your eyes
As we wind our way home
Down Valencia Street
We move in fits and starts
Like windswept leaves

Brittle smiles cautiously breaking
With the spring breeze
Inhale, exhale be grateful for these
Small moments when breath comes gently

You clear your throat and apologize
For all the horror you’ve told
Like my hearing you relive it
Would be too much for my heart to hold

It’s okay
My love
It’s okay

You do know how I have been sick with worry
That clumsy words could ever be enough
To bring our war-weary
And worn out nights to a close

It is a war, after all
You know, the one waged on our bodies
From the day we were born
Into our ill-fitting, misaligned skin

In the neon glowing darkness
Of a crumbling Oakland skyline
Your hands are scarred and shaking
As they gingerly enclose around mine
This fragile, fleeting moment in our lives

Is one inside of a thousand
Of all the tiny ways we heal
Breathe with me, please
Just keep breathing.

Inhale, exhale think about the breath
Pushing stale air out of your lungs
And bringing fresh oxygen to your cells
How even when you want to die
Your body is doing everything
To keep you alive

And you replicate, radiate, and are reborn
Like how they skin they stained
With heartless hands will shed one day
Even when scars remain
And you are beautiful in your scars

In your survival

I love every iota and atom of you
Battered, but not quite broken
Bloody and bruised

Knocked down in the goddamn dirt
But not dead yet
And I love you on the days
When the sunlight is just too much to face

Close your eyes
Take a deep breath
Sleep and heal
Rest well
In the endless grace
Of passing days

About a Boy Two: The Hale and the Whole