He was the only one of us
who still followed the sea.
He was a wanderer,
who could abide
no stay-at-home
order
'til the sea
became his country.
- marandarussell.com
Poetry – He Followed the Sea
Author: marandarussell
Dragging Myself through Christmas
2 days until Christmas, and I don’t think I could feel less festive if I tried. I’m dragging myself through each day, not really wanting to get out of bed or do anything. I’ve tried to break the depressive funk by making myself go to a couple holiday events in the past week, but the deep sadness I feel will not be pushed away or covered for long.
I’m still dealing with a lot of hurt from recent events with my husband, and while we are working on healing and doing therapy, the wounds are deep, especially for a heart like mine that struggles to trust so much in the first place due to a long history of trauma and abuse. Sometimes I despair that I’ll never be able to truly trust again.
My heart aches. My body and mind are worn out. I feel little hope. I wish I could report better things.
Poetry – Mental Reservation
Room for one, please. I'll be staying until further notice and will not require housekeeping.
Poetry – It Isn’t All It Might Be
The future is yours and the present is mine, but it isn't all it might be. Things go wrong. I talk to myself. I can't explain it at all - whether I guess right or wrong, I can't be the first to speak - or the last. In the end, there is nothing I desire so much as to become nothing.
Poetry – There’s Been a Mistake
There's been a mistake somewhere. This is not how it was all supposed to go. You, over there laughing as I prick my finger on verbal razors. Me, bleeding, faking a smile wishing I could manage to be good just this once.
Migraines are Killing Me
These migraines are killing me. Today’s the 8th day in a row, beating my last record of 7 days. It is affecting my whole life. I can barely function.
The stress of dealing with marriage counseling and the hurt over my husband’s online behavior that I see as a betrayal of our relationship is probably playing a big role in this particular flareup, which makes me feel resentful too. Almost like he is putting me through this. He is doing everything he can to make amends, and I deeply appreciate that, but the hurt is still there.
I have to debate every day whether I should even take migraine relieving medicine (no matter how much pain I am in) as I run the risk of causing rebound migraines if I take more than a few pills a week. It is SO frustrating 😦
Poetry – Migraines Again
marble eye
bulging
out of its socket
stiff neck
coiling
thick as marine rope
dizzy nausea
swooning
drags me to the bed
hated pain
blazing
throws me into hell
again and again and again
and again and again and
again and again and again
and again and again and
On Paganism
I came for the magick, the ceremony, the mystical – glittering amongst the crystals, candles, wands, and symbols.
But it isn’t about that at all, is it? It is about essence, about the base elements that form everything in and outside of nature.
It is about the history, the stories, and the heart lessons we all need to learn on this wild ride through time and space.
Remember:
Reality is an illusion.
All is an illusion.
Everything is energy.
Poetry – Apocalypse 2020
If I be wrong
and the apocalypse
has not come,
than these
plagues
locusts
hellfire
brimstone
bloodbaths
must simply
be foreplay.
