Hollow
Hollow.
Can you imagine the pain.
The brutal strain…
to keep moving forward.
Suffocating.
Claw my eyes out…
Make all this pain count.
Struggling to breathe.
Burning.
From my core out to my shell.
Stop this heart, say my farewells.
Yet, I fight to remain.
Hollow.
Losing you, I lost myself.
Somehow, I reach out for help.
I begin, after tragedy, to grow whole.
~No longer entirely Hollow.~
© bipolarmuse 2012
Unafraid of Change
Unafraid of Change
I try, with valiant effort to ride these waves
Of a most troubled, turbulent life.
To myself I apologize,
As it is myself who I hurt most in this grand play.
Every day bringing new adventures, growth, change.
The beauty of existence is thriving,
Of being. Succeeding. In my own skin “arrive”.
Like a river, the current strong yet I am not afraid.
Holding my head up… I face tomorrow. My heart brave.
It may not bring my exact dreams, but such is this beautiful life.
Dreams ride on moon beams, magical and bright.
So dreams, pure and charming, I dynamically chase. Unafraid of change.
© bipolarmuse 2012
What it is like?? And Emily Dickinson Poem
My life closed twice before its close My life closed twice before its close— It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me So huge, so hopeless to conceive As these that twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven, And all we need of hell. Emily Dickinson
I have quoted this poem before as I have a very strong feeling that resonates with this exquisite poem. Why you may ask? I relate it to my experience with my children. You see… twice I have lost my children and have not raised them. Not that I “lost” them because I did something horribly wrong but because I didn’t know how to fight and was too trusting to other individuals involved.
Fate was cruel to me in the same regards twice in my life. Some people cannot fathom why a Mother would not have custody of her children. I have often heard (out of the mouths of insensitive women) “I would fight till the death for my children”. Insinuating that, though my fight to the death has been different, it is somehow not worthy of being a good Mom. I am a great Mom. Yes, I have made mistakes that I pay dearly for… but none warrant me to be unworthy of raising my children.
So what does it feel like to not have custody of my children? For those of you in a similar position, I am sure you can relate… for others, let me just say it is a very large chunk of what I like to call hell. I feel like pieces of me are gone all the time… like I am missing pieces of my heart. I have cried years on end because of this and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“My life closed twice before its close” because twice, fate has not allowed me custody of my children. I certainly do hope that immortality will unveil a third event to me… hopefully a most beautiful, healing event.
“So huge, so hopeless to conceive As these that twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell”. When I part with my children, I sincerely taste the sweetness of heaven in their presence… yet it is all I need of hell.
Do I fight to the death for my children? Maybe to an outsider, the answer would be no. I do not fight in the way that you may think. But I fight. I have fought to get myself healthy for them… I have fought to realize that what they need in their life is 100% stability, of which I struggle with… I have fought to be SELFLESS and allow them to continue in the life they are use to instead of trying to battle and take them for my own selfish needs… I have fought to the death for my life, to remain in theirs, when the light of “hope” was extinguished… I have fought for my sanity to be all that they need… I fight daily to hold back tears because all in all, they are healthy and happy.
While I may be in constant pain without them, I know that they are more happy than not and that they are safe. Is there anything more I could want for them. Of course I want them and I need them. I will be a “constant” in their lives. At some point, they will have the choice to live where they would like… so I FIGHT every single day on the person I am so that when the day comes that they want to live with me… I am standing there with open arms, 100% capable. That is how I fight. ♥♥♥♥
Tragic Compromise
Tragic Compromise
Each day, a Tragic Compromise.
While the new springs forward,
Pieces of me
Still die.
Every longing moment, a Tragic Compromise.
My very own sanity at stake.
While simple dreams…
Flee and die.
Fire… watch me burn with this Tragic Compromise.
Stinging… Cutting… jabbing.
Like 1000 needles
Invading my eyes.
Minutes tick away as I suffer this Tragic Compromise.
An ocean of salty tears.
For with you
My happiness lies…
Yet I live this Tragic Compromise.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Sweet Taste
Sweet Taste
Fearless. Strong. Empowered.
Life emanating from every pore.
Anxious for this beautiful life,
And all that it has… all it has in store.
Brave. Meek. Humble.
I faithfully see with new eyes…
Glory of the sun, flowers, the bumble bees.
I see the glory of this perfect gift of life.
Enchanted. Auspicious. Versed.
With the faithful rising of the majestic moon,
New dreams are felt, believed, seen.
In the rays of the sun…realities. Realities loom.
Hope. Belief. Faith.
Dazzled, I behold the dreams dancing in place.
Moments so alluring, radiant, surreal…
So close to me… I get a tantalizing sweet taste.
© bipolarmuse 2012
My Old Friend Change
My Old Friend Change
Standing patiently, unwavering,
on unsettled ground.
The ground shifting, moving.
Uncertainty surround.
Where to stand, who to be? To see the future,
be the now.
In each, in every, in all directions,
they surely bring…
Grand waves of oscillation for all to feel,
for all to see.
Not one single decision without cost,
no singular decision to be free.
So I stand, unmoving, thinking…
in this one place.
Eyes closed, heart beating, listening…
I see your familiar face.
Like an old friend, comfortable, kind,
I “see” you, I see my old friend “change”.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Your New Soft Soul
Your New Soft Soul
Softly, emitting incandescent light.
Beauty of Gods love embraces you, is you.
Love radiates from your being…
Shining so magnificently, brilliantly.
Is this a new, forever sought, peaceful you?
~
Everything feels so familiar,
Your charming smile, your lovely eyes…
The windows to your new soft soul.
A certain perceptivity, wisdom, they hold.
Your tender eyes, shining, gentle, kind.
~
Your peace, lustrous, enrapturing.
I feel this magnetism, adoration, affection…
Your serenity, gentle soul… passes through me.
I feel love, forgiveness, gentleness… Peace.
I release you… yet hold tightly to our connection.
~
© bipolarmuse 2012
**I wrote this poem for “B” (this is how I will refer to my Ex who committed suicide, instead of revealing his name). One of the most remarkable dreams I had of him came years after his death. Previous to this dream, my dreams of him were sad and hurtful… I was always “searching” for him. In this dream he approached me on my Grandparents street (where I often dream of deceased loved ones)… he was glowing, beautiful, and projected so much kindness, love, and peace that I could not help but be showered in it myself. He looked so familiar, dressed in his same clothes, his smile, his eyes… yet everything had a softer more gentle look and feel. I cried in my dream because I knew he found the peace he was always so desperately searching for. I cried because I knew that he was also visiting me to show me that I could finally let go. I could forgive myself and release him… yet hold onto what was good. When I woke, I was still crying yet it was a wonderful happy cry. I can never properly express the beauty of this dream and how much it helped to heal my heart. It was time to release him… ♥ 143~48 “B” **
My Wonder… My Awe…
My Wonder… My Awe…
With tears brimming.
Salty streams creating their path.
I once again must watch you turn around…
Gaze longingly at your back.
I need to chase this pain,
Push it out of my head…
But my heart just will not follow suit.
So much more should have been said.
Resentful… Angry… Hurt.
Why must I make the sacrifice?
All I want… is you… need… is you…
My Wonder…my Awe…my very breath of life.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Treacherous
Treacherous
Treacherous.
Heart and Mind,
Easy to turn and look away…
Turn a blind eye.
Treacherous.
This beat…faster. Unpredictable.
I lean in slightly closer…
The treachery unforgettable.
Treacherous.
Veins deliver, slithering perils.
Screaming volumes on deaf ears.
Furtive slant… each step careful.
Treacherous.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Tears ~ Haiku Style
Sorrow in your eyes
Glistening oceans of truth
Windows to your soul
© bipolarmuse 2012
Another Time and Place
Another Time and Place
In another time and place, another world…
I could remain a “constant”…
Instead I move at a quick pace,
At lightening speeds I attempt to run…
A runner I have been, a runner I have become.
Somewhere in this universe…
Perhaps there is another “me”.
One of confidence, of trust,
Full of glorious love.
One not lacking in stability.
Maybe in some dimension in space,
I realize that who I am, in the here and now,
Is who I am to be, with head held high…
Moving forward in growth, growing in life.
In this space: yesterday, today, tomorrow, I embrace.
© bipolarmuse 2012
This Fire Inside
This Fire Inside
This fire inside…bursting, tingling, burning…
Through every inch of me.
Each vein pumped with your sweet, licking flames.
Fervency tickling, enticing,
My fickle brain.
This fire inside… has not been irrecoverable…
Oh how I have missed you so.
Your lovely intoxicating sting,
Feverishly you flow…
Back to life, I feel passionately.
This fire inside… I have loved for so long…
Now singing notes of a missing song.
Your intensity, I loved from the start.
Evoking passion, your white heat is not wrong.
This fire inside, the beat of my heart.
© bipolarmuse 2012
“Hello, Hello”?
Echos, the only voice I hear is my own.
“Hello”, “Hello”?, “Who can be the one to save me”?
To save, I say, is a triumph that must come…
from the will of “me”.
“Hello”, “Hello”?, “do you see the devil too,
the darkness that shadows… menacingly invades”?
I see it dear ‘Me”, I say, the devil has no power over you
No matter how easily it can persuade.
“Hello”, “Hello”?, “How do you know? Have the faith
that the devil is a losing entity, losing power”?
Dear me, I say, I know it to be so because of you…
You are emitting light and power…we no longer cower.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Will You Ever
Will You Ever
Today your words cut at me…
Like a razor blade. Making me bleed
From the deepest depths of me.
Will you ever forget, or lessen the pain.
The threshing of your tongue, echo of blame…
Will it cease? Or in the least, lessen the sting.
I know who is. The one to rest this evil upon.
Will you see? That it is not the box that I stand on?
Can I help your heart, soul, and eyes to see beyond.
I stand in this place so very dark, with doubt and shame.
My protection should have held strong. I question if I am to blame.
Will your spirit forgive… see past the hurt, blame… my name.
I look to you for strength, purpose, and beauty…
Will you ever look toward me and ever see” just me”?
The one who sacrificed all… for you to be well and free.
Will you ever look to me again and only see your “Mommy”.
© bipolarmuse 2012
I was having a wonderful conversation with my youngest son who was abused when out of the blue he asked me why I took him to “Las Vegas” to be hurt by “Austin”. Of coarse I had no idea that he would he be abused by such a horrible person…. yet I am the one who has to answers the hard questions. I told him I was “sorry” and that I did not know he would get hurt… and that I NEVER wanted or knew he would get hurt. He then told me “Yea, I got allot of BooBoo’s”.
Can you imagine such a heart breaking conversation. There are so many people out there who ignore abuse or who are not fit to be parents at all. I adore my children… all of them. My son is one part of my heart and I have to convince him all the time that I NEVER intended for him to be hurt. Today… my heart broke… again.
~You Are Courageous… Yet Soft. Dark… Yet Lovely.~
~You are courageous…yet soft. Dark…yet lovely.~
A sense of mourning, it is,
so near and dear.
Where darkness invaded,
a sparkle now clear.
A path you invoke…
to a place of healing.
~You are courageous… yet soft.
Dark… yet lovely.~
Remnants magically begin
to come together…
As the harshness of pain lessens,
to a stroke of a feather,
Where doubt prevailed, it is overshadowed
with belief.
~You are courageous…yet soft.
Dark…yet lovely.~
Hushed sounds, of a valid wave
of thoughts.
Non-judgmentally reconcile, recognize,
the fight is always fought.
Everything is taking place, exactly,
as it should be.
~You are courageous…yet soft.
Dark…yet lovely.~
© bipolarmuse 2012
** A dear friend, Celeste, inspired this poem. The title is part of a message she had written to me and she blessed me with such a beautiful, very fitting phrase that brought me the words to this poem. Thank you Celeste…your words are always inspiring.**
Haunting Me
Haunting Me
~
While the lovely night takes its stroll…
The stars dance to an unheard song…
The moon caresses our splendid earth…
Your very scent lingers on.
~
The arrant weight of my woes, my being…
Into magical feathers, they, I, sink ever so deeper.
Incessant fluttering takes place behind the windows to my soul.
Losing sense of time~ forgetting the Reaper.
~
The windows forcefully open, all is silent.
Only a heaviness, and your scent, thick in the night air.
Startled, an eeriness sets comfortably in.
Your weight settled, so absolute, so close, so near.
~
Peering into the darkness, down what seemed like miles.
I perceive the heaviness of you, sitting with me.
My eyes sear into the felt indention. Into your presence…
Could it truly be? As you promised me? Haunting me.
© bipolarmuse 2012
** This poem is about a very real experience I had back in 2003, one year after the suicide of my Ex. I was laying in bed, had just rested my head upon my pillow and begun to “drift” into sleep, when all of a sudden it felt like somebody sat at the very end of my bed. The feeling jolted me and I sat paralyzed for several moments, in fear of what I was going to see. Was there someone in my room? Why would they sit on my bed? I finally get the courage to look down at the end of my bed and I see nothing, only what “seems” like the indention of a person sitting on the end of the bed. Of coarse, moonbeams shining into my room could have been playing tricks on my eyes, but I felt like it could have been him. His favorite cologne filled the air, and I just felt like he could have been sitting there with me.
He had always promised to haunt me. **
Incredibly Twisted
Incredibly Twisted
Incredibly twisted, this mental brick wall
I hit,over and over, gaining the determination.
I willingly put my game face on.
Pounding and pounding until that moment,
The wall comes crashing down.
Will the “me” I want be truly found?
Will the love I know I harbor…
Find its way into my excrescent heart?
Incredibly twisted, my very own mind…
It strives to torture, the “ego” afraid…
Fighting for its place, to remain in its state.
I see you, I acknowledge you are not “me”…
So I contest, watch your devilish ways.
You will not take over… not tomorrow nor today.
Incredibly twisted, “ego” there is no room for you to stay.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Lost Innocence
Lost Innocence
Intriguing
You set me ablaze
Fractured
Lost in a maze
Enraptured
Intoxicating like a drug
Insulting
Your face remains smug
Enticing
To linger in the past
Weeping
That is no longer who I am
Experience
A lesson well learned
Mourning
I wish again to be “her”
Naive
Thrown into a vicious world
Desperate
To escape darkness, where I was hurled.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Lost Identity
Lost Identity
I contemplate what lies ahead.
This war, ferocious battle…
Learning exactly who I am.
Do I trust myself, to know what to do…
To stand on my own.
To be alive in my own skin- anew.
I am a chameleon, I hide behind my smile.
Myself, I am not familiar with.
In the mirror, I see only a face. To find me…
I must tread a thousand miles.
Emotions, principles, identity- wax and wane.
Chalked up to a disorder?
Is it “me”? Or something I need to blame.
Throwing my hands up into the air,
I surrender to the possibility…
Self discovery is a life long affair.
To know what it is I must do…
I take a long deep look inside…
No longer in need of validation
From you.
© bipolarmuse 2012
The Best Of Me
The Best of me
You think you got the best of me
Had me begging, and begging
To be set free.
Only what you did not know,
Is your pain made me grow.
And I am not near as alone…
As you are, in the deep of the night,
I stand tall and see the light.
Because of you, I will not lose the fight.
You think you got the best of me,
I fight more… a little harder daily,
Push you back as far as can be.
I will not be set back,
For you, I refuse to lack,
The fight that got me from hell and back.
When you are far away from me,
Nothing to hold, having no place with me.
You will see, you made me stronger, never got the best of me.
© bipolarmuse 2012
To Crossroads We Come
To Crossroads We Come
To crossroads we come.
Tears are shed, choices that hurt.
To know which route to go,
Valor, it must come first.
To crossroads we come.
My heart aches, fills with pain,
My soul and spirit feels the burden,
Of this massive choice that must be made.
To crossroads we come.
Screaming out to myself, but only inside.
Will I be mentally capable of this…
Salty tears fall like warm rain.
To crossroad we come.
To the right, forward, to the left.
A fire in me, burning, raging.
Internal torment stealing my very breath.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Soldier, Move Forward, Press on.
Soldier, Move Forward, Press On.
Soldier, move forward, press on.
Become the epitome of strength,
And sing the sweetest of songs.
Soldier, remind yourself…
You are considerate and calm.
Oh so tenderly, look upon “self”.
Soldier, leave behind the torment,
Do not believe what your mind says.
Believe that, for this world you are meant.
Soldier, please stand mighty and tall.
Offer absolution for your weakness…
Treat yourself tenderly if you blunder and fall.
Soldier, do not forget you are brave,
You are beauty, you are love, you are light.
A beacon of hope, to help others on their way.
Soldier, move forward, press on.
Sing the sweetest of songs.
Know in your heart of hearts, you are strong, you belong.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Viscerally
Viscerally
~
Viscerally,
I hurt.
You have changed…
My view on love,
Eternally.
~
Viscerally,
I feel rage.
You made me feel…
Fractured, inside, out.
Painfully.
~
Viscerally.
I may never forgive.
I see your face…
Hear those tormenting words…
Fearfully.
~
Viscerally,
Boiling in these toxins.
I may one day forgive.
But never forget.
Viscerally.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Magical Puppeteer
Magical Puppeteer
The old, the present, the new…
Each capable of bringing the blues…
To muse.
We all have a private place.
To hide. To BE. To pray…
To leave behind the race.
The shadows, keep me company,
Much like the light of the moon, reflecting,
Its gentle beam upon me.
I no longer have a belief…
Like a fool, I can stand on my own two feet.
No, hope is not lost. Just have a need…
To hold on, and to use the Puppeteer.
One pill, Two pills, Three pills more.
My pride takes a plunge to the floor.
As I fight for so much more.
So I use the Puppeteer,
No Fear.
Just the magical Puppeteer.
© bipolarmuse 2012
This is my life through poetry, quotes, and my journal. The intense ride of my ups and downs of life ...and the relentless mood disorders I suffer from.
