rainstorm of hatred

reaching out to those I miss, who once I called my favorites, the ones who made me feel cozy. The ones who have been blinded by hate or greed, whose timber built fears were fanned and fueled by ugly lies.

I know I’m not perfect. How many times do I have to plead and beg and bawl and let my heart and soul barren and spilling out on the ground beneath us…. Only for you to step on my back callously to keep your precious shoes clean…. As you walk away, you pour salt and spit into the wounds. And the sheriffs swiftly swing in and tell me I’M trespassing. I haven’t set foot near you. And bitch, this is MY property. Keep your cops off my lawn, your feet off my back, and your trauma out of my brain.

I may not have your guilt for not having done enough. To keep dad alive longer, because I spent every last moment he -or you- would allow. But I am still traumatized and broken.

You can block my number. 

You can block my name. 

You can block my face. 

Thinking you left no trace. 

I’ll be here. Standing close. 

Not stalking or being a ghost. 

You can ignore my words. 

You can choose ignorance. 

Keep on doing what you do. 

But not at my expense, you fool

My sweet Angel- man, she’s not even 6 and she’s been my guardian and protector. She is brilliantly smart, and I’m not just a biased mom to say so. She is a ball player and sometimes a poo eater. She always stays close when we’re walking off leash! And she doesn’t know how to use the bathroom on walks downtown!! lol it’s the funniest thing. No matter whether we’re at Peace Park or stopping by a patch of green near a church. I pack poo bags, but she waits until we’re back home to go.

So much like me- anxious and traumatized. We’re birthday twins and she’s my emotional support pet. I already dread the day she leaves me. Even to the level of threatening the Universe what will happen if she’s taken from me too soon.

What’s more authentic and growth minded than realizing you’ve been PLAY’d like a bitch.
I’m not sure for how long, but he’s even made my beautiful Angel sick with his lies and deceit.

When you fuck with someone and they know you’re doing it- it’s beautiful magic. I don’t mean sex, you sick fuckers. I mean messing with their mind. Making them unhappy and uncomfortable and unappreciated is EVIL. 👿

what’s even more disgusting is doing it to someone who’s naive, authentic, AND disabled. Who loves completely, eternally, and passionately.

I dunno- you all give me a word (or several).

it’s sunny, with wispy clouds floating in and out of the sunshine, traveling on a cool autumnal breeze.

as opposed to medical appointment urgency being washed away in the pouring rain and construction traffic, piled high with commuter cars, road river water spraying on the windshield – wiping away all presence or view of the fellow drivers. stress crinkles furrowing my brow, the pelting drops maddening my ears, i turn to stone as i press on.