Why “fullofhate”?

Because I hate the society we live in, which consists of objects, systems, people, and politics, most of which I hate. Of course, there are those rare people and objects within society that I love, or at least tolerate. However, in my experience, society is full of hate, and I live in that society.

It goes without saying (yet I will say it anyway) that my experiences differ from others. I envy the ignorant (or at least I wish I did). I envy people whose parents were always there for them. I envy those who have a support system in place. I feel sad when I see a little girl, riding on her father’s shoulders, smiling and giggling.

I get stuck thinking about how my life, how my daughter’s life, could have been different if only I hadn’t done this, or my parents hadn’t raised me like that, and on and on… I have trouble letting go of the past, because I cannot forgive myself, and the people in my life who have hurt me and my future, have yet to seek forgiveness. I wish I understood, or that they understood, whoever needs to understand, I wish they just would.

This beautiful little girl:

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Her name is Raelynn. I gave birth to her in 2010, with intentions on having her adopted. I changed my mind when they left me alone with her overnight. I fell in love and have been in love with her ever since. Her and I spent every single day together from birth until December 5th, 2013, when she was physically abused by someone her and I trusted, while I was gone, paying the rent. I came home, it was dark, and supposedly she had just woken up from a nap. About 15 minutes later, the “babysitter” left, and I checked on Raelynn. I picked her up, and she screamed a scream that I wish I could forget hearing. I knew she was hurt. I turned on the light, and my heart started beating faster and faster as I saw more and more bruises all over her head. I then noticed she wouldn’t move her arm. I took her to the hospital. She had a fractured rib, an inflamed pancreas, a fractured arm, and multiple bruises. CPS took her from me, gave her to my parents, tried terminating my rights, but changed their mind after they saw the bond between her and I. However, they did not give her back to me. I have cried everyday since.

Today, I am still fighting to get full custody back. After losing my child, I lost my apartment because I took time off from life. I shutdown. I didn’t know what else to do. Everything I did was for her. So I was left with nothing. CPS provided me a list of hoops to jump through, which I have been doing ever since. However, now that my parents have been forced to spend time with her, they fell in love with her (of course), and are making everything harder for me to get her back. They are making false accusations against me, and if anyone knows how CPS works, all heresy is valid until proven otherwise. Thank god I hired a private attorney. Things have been moving forward. I have gotten back on my feet and have even started a business of my own, which so far has been successful. The fact that I am still fighting for full custody is ridiculous. But that is how CPS works, they get paid for every child they adopt out, so unless you work REALLY hard, dance when they tell you to dance, and retain private counsel, you stand no chance of getting your child back because they will NOT do everything they can to reunify families, because adoption is where the money’s at.

My daughter did not deserve to be abused by someone she trusted. She did not deserve to be moved out of her home and away from her mom, who she spent every day with. She did not deserve to have her routine completely interrupted. She did not deserve to suffer.

I am suffering, and I wish I could have suffered what she suffered, rather than her having to suffer all of that. I feel awful. I feel angry. Then my mind takes me to dark places. I am very good at talking shit about myself.

Hope is the only reason I am breathing these days. Hoping that one day, hopefully very soon, Raelynn and I can be happy and together every day again, like we were before that day in December. I hope that as she grows up, our bond will grow as well. I hope I can help her cope with what happened to her when the long-lasting effects of the trauma she experienced finally come to surface.

I will never forget her cries when they took her from me at the hospital. And I remember, when she was a newborn, swearing to her that I’d always be there. I need to be there for her, always. I promised. No one should have the authority to prevent me from keeping my promises.

I love you, Raelynn, one day you will understand how and why our lives changed so suddenly. No one loves you like I do, nobody has the authority to change that.

I swear! if only they would let me…

Whole worth, gone at once,
in just one moment…
all the while, supposedly knowing….
this coming Fall.

and every second,
I guess,
I am told,
was spent in ignorance…

writing with limp fingers.

they will show you, there is nothing to fear
and never will they hurt you,

or love you…
or ever truly know you.

you are smarter than them,
you will see how meaningless this has been.

Now, we are waiting,
and they are watching
the distress and desperation
stained on my face,
While I see them gain
every loss I am forced to take.

and this December
will be just another
month you remember,
I was not present.
I will be lonely,
and they will be silent,
but another year will have gone by…

Knowing too, that love is pain,
i love you endlessly!
and their meaninglessness grows thicker.

fuck writing, each fall I become more bitter,
and by Winter I am frozen, in a constant state

of Resentment, remembering,
nothing can stay,
the pace will change.

and all of this will only give you
reasons to fear everyone.
for you and i, we were stable,
and they’ve severed our roots.
now unstable.

i hope you’ve found comfort in our memories!

my family, the one i bore,
our blood flows thicker
than the water in their veins.
and I swear I will help you through this!
if only they would let me…

the two of us at home, where kids can cope…

Your universe, this “time”, it is wrong.

Like your worth to me,
Everyone has something in this world that is their God.
But Life experience is a cloud of smoke
And in place of that, I gave blood.

will they make it right?
Hearts cannot name
true love.

scratch perspective, its fact.

Your soul and it’s pace,
Damn love for staking its place.

And no, we’ve thought wrong.
A universe, or so it seems happened,
You and these,
nothing is there in life
that has not been.

It’s worth waiting to claim,
That day,
You fall and all you gain is pain.

Back turned.
Claiming their arms are full of trust
They heal families, keep lives together,
But their hands are broken
and God’s never going to heal you.

For Every emotion comes,
Just like your fingers scratching.
Intensity increases, pain follows.
Recognize thoughts & then the hurt.

There’s that god you thought was love…

All eyes on me everyone!
I am fine soulless and god doesn’t give a fuck.

So let that punishment come.

Your Universe is wrong.
This time is damaged.
My past soul is a sinking bitch.
You, Thing that fears,
You’ll never be something.

Take, when its time to give
No, you never owe a damn thing.

Coping methods will sink everyone,
and my family, you will sink alone.

Alive, 1 hour per week

I just want her back. I want my life back. Each Thursday from 12:30-1:30, I spend an hour with her. On Thursday at 1:30, when the visit is over, the week-long countdown starts over. Over and over again.

“I know this is hard now, but you will get her back soon and you will have years of time to spend with her.” I hear this way too often. It bothers me. But I do not expect people to understand unless they have been through this.

I know I will get her back. Soon? Well that depends on your definition of soon. It is not soon enough. I will never get this time back. She celebrated her third birthday, Christmas, the new year, Valentine’s Day, Saint Patrick’s Day, and soon she will celebrate Easter, and I am not there to celebrate with her. There is nothing to celebrate without her.

10001562_10202737013800081_496773636_nThree is such a fun age. She is developing her personality even more. She is learning so much. She is potty-trained. She talks back in complete sentences now. She forms opinions. And I am missing it.

Every Thursday I see how much she can change in one week. For that one hour a week, I feel alive again. I am always thinking of her. I do not think I have gone a full day without crying for her. I miss her more than I can begin to describe. And the more time that passes, the more she grows and develops, every time we say goodbye, it gets harder every minute.

This is a nightmare that I only escape every Thursday from 12:30-1:30.

beasts of the Earth, wild & dead

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the futile.        so convincing.

there has never been a point.

we have no control.          nothing is under control.

you wild beasts.    eat me alive.     steal my young.

onto the next weak one.

satisfaction is a myth.         but may become truth finally in death.

destiny is universal.       do as you please.     nobody matters it seems.

pro-choice or pro-life, both are sentenced to death.

joy versus pain.      their worth is the same.

names don’t change a thing.   use them to shift blame.

stupidity argues!

and a burning sphere laughs.        watching from its death-bed.

you are right where you are supposed to be.

chained to the ground. one way out.           the majority fears it.

BUT DO NOT mourn the dead. ENVY THEIR FREEDOM.

invisible lover

you are absent and willing to be,
if you weren’t, the willing rain would be,
so it seems the stars dip to meet me,
the old me, with giggling words.
i am not immobile, i am gravitating,
and confining.
simple endurance is no happy way to live.
it is a warning to you, but i call it surviving,
and you are interminable.
dozens of words i roar rush up to the moon,
they vindicate my loss, your diversion,
and we are apart,
tried to follow you, I’m enraptured by you.
this secret heart is just a speck to you,
but I look back. loving you vanishes too soon,
and if droplets of our story were rattled together,
only the shrewd would know what it means.
prove me this, love of mine, love of many,
is it merely my flower you pick apart?
while i cultivate you, the mass moon is sadly engrossed while you philander
your stares cackle at my importune, but soon i open up,
you seem welcoming.
well maybe just try to appraise the beauty in teardrops.
i was smitten with your stories while we sat in traffic,
could i, nevertheless, be yours?
what words may i mutter that would be of consequence?
exclusively beautiful prose?
not the poem i scribbled in your car,
scrawled so close you could smell it, but were never moved by it.
no time, not in traffic, to notice, to understand it.
those words are residue left by my mind.