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

deadpeople

 

 

 

 

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.

Just hold on, things will get worse.

I’ve come to find it quite comical, the way things will always get worse once they have gone bad. This truth does not only apply to food, but to all perishables, including humans. Of course, the degree to which one suffers is relative, as is the measurement of one’s greatness.

Depression prevents resilience in the face of adversity. Positive thoughts enable an individual to adapt and get through difficult situations. Those well-acquainted with depression typically lack the positivity necessary for resilience.

Positive thinking is not easy for me. I lack a supportive family and reliable friendships, and my self-esteem is hiding underground. The one thing that I was absolutely confident in was my ability to raise my daughter. She knows I love her and I know she loves me.

So much has changed now. I have lost that confidence. I feel isolated. I never felt alone with her around to care for. My depression, low self-esteem, and anxiety should not be so surprising though, especially during a time in which they are slandering my parenting ability and my character.

I need my daughter to grow up with a supportive family. If she stays with my parents, she won’t have that. I need to be there for her for the rest of my life. I don’t understand why they want to prevent that. Even my unsupportive parents disagree with their position to permanently alienate me from my daughter (which would also permanently alienate me from my family, but that is nothing new).

Not only do I have to defend myself in the Juvenile Court to get my daughter back, but I just got a lovely letter from the DA’s office informing me of a criminal charge that I will have to fight as well. The most comical part is the fact that they scheduled my arraignment at the Superior Court for the same day and same time as my trial date in the Juvenile Court.

These people are just trying to help though, right?

And again I say, fuck the system.

Unfit parents love their kids too much

Three years ago I found a healthy way to cope with life. I need my daughter as much as she needs me, if not more. I have been pouring every part of me into this little girl for the last three years. Life was such a struggle and I had no idea how to navigate it before she came along. She gave me a good reason to try to survive. She is everything.

I am lost without her. I have literally just been sitting on the couch, staring at nothing in particular, confused. I don’t know what to do anymore. I took a leave of absence from school so that I wouldn’t fail any classes. I just cannot fucking figure out what I am supposed to be doing. Everything I did, EVERYTHING I did, was for her. I would eat because she needed to eat. I earned As in my classes because she needed a brighter future. I washed dishes because she needed to eat off of clean dishes. I cleaned the house so she had more space to play, and to play safely. I cared about my well-being because I had a child to care for. I would smile because she smiled, or because it would make her smile.

I’m not allowed to feel like this though, because it would make me an unfit parent. An unfit parent because my kid is the center of my universe. My motivation to do something with my life was born the day my daughter was born, but that makes me an unfit parent. I’ve spent the last three years focusing on raising my kid, but I can’t show that my world has been turned upside down since they took her because that would make me an unfit parent.

They have basically stripped me of my parental rights already. I don’t have a say in anything that happens to her. And its going to take a trial for me to even get the possibility of a chance to have a say in what happens to her ever again.

Fuck the system.

thanks for the “help”

hospitals are known for helping others, but it is the same place they will take a daughter from her mother.

behind a curtain, the staff work hard to help a heart continue beating. in the next room over, they take a woman’s only reason for breathing.

she came in with her little girl. she came in out of concern. and the staff agreed to treat her baby, but to her mother’s arms, she was never returned.

in the hands of a trusted partner, they say she failed to protect, and the last three years didn’t count for shit.

when you do the right thing, the last thing you expect is to lose every ounce of meaning, and to never hold that meaning again.

at three years old, she is too young to comprehend why mommy is not the same person who will be tucking her in.

even at twenty-five, you could not understand, why you deserve to lose your child, along with your will to live.

how do they believe it is help that they give, when they deny a mother access to her only kid, and she takes her own life because they took the only reason she lived?