tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75556946182335351292024-03-20T09:01:04.718-07:00Starlight & TurpentineElisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.comBlogger274125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-11509363547475399682024-03-17T00:45:00.000-07:002024-03-17T00:45:03.676-07:00Me- uninterrupted.<p>The first thing <br />I see <br />really deep longing <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>connection and <br /><span style="background-color: black;"></span>depth<br />is specifically desiring<br />speaks<br />to<br />wanting<br />on the surface, you<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>go down<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>the depths. </p><p>feeling this longing, and<br />a loneliness<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>an isolation<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span><i>wanting</i><br /><i>wanting<br /></i>reason <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>it's not <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>stuck in a <br /><span style="background-color: black;"></span>period of time<br />this<br />hurt you.<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>"alone-ness". <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>in the long term<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>alone... for a little bit... <br />to reconnect<br />yourself. </p><p>The longing<br />of understanding and of <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>giving<br />to yourself. And<br />time<br />that longing, it's <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>anchoring <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>seeing all <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span><i>radically</i> <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>stepping in<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>self-expression<br />It's like you disappear<br />this self<br />and then <br /><span style="background-color: black;"></span>the new self.</p><p>focus<br />this<br />is<br />how<br />you<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>think when<br />alone<br />this tendency to<br />care<br />because nobody's looking.<br />step in<br />you feel like<i> <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></i>painting <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>your hair<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>delicious<br />that's <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>a hot girl<br />silly. <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>individually silly, but<br />joyful<br />like delighting in the experience of <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>what I feel</p><p>this sense of finding<br />could be<br />quality, <br />quite literally <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>encourage <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>this period. <br /><span style="background-color: black;"></span>write songs, or anything like that<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>you're singing<br />you're putting on little concerts<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>you're singing<br />sing, sing, sing...<br />clearing<br />a breakthrough<br />space for you.<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>your voice, and<br />amplifying</p><p>The longing<br /><span style="background-color: black;"></span>... Sometimes<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>we're seeking<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>what we're actually seeking<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>looking for "god"<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>through <i>you</i>. <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>find it inside of you<br /><span style="background-color: black;"></span>find it <br /><span style="background-color: black;"></span>that energy<br />if you leave<br />access it<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>reflected in<br />part of this. <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>that longing, <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>emptiness, <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>an urge <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>connection <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>divine.<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>expression.</p><p>coming through<br />I would<br />know if <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>going back, or<br />look into the<br />deeper connection<br />tapping into<br />and inviting<br />connect<br />through music.</p><p>powerful<br />manifestation.<br />deep<br />imprint <br />into any <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>form<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>to a song<br />a splash.<br />send<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>out this call.<br />truthful<br />if sometimes<br />you're wanting<br />experience<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>you'll find<br />You can use them<br />tools. </p><p>stepping into yourself<br />to shift<br />this season<br /><i>you</i>. </p><p>next<br />the body<br />you reclaim<br />reclaim your identity<br />pleasure, and depth <br /><i>that</i> way. <br />feeling maybe <br />new<br />going to come<br />for you, <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>to be... <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>in that space. <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>I think <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>it's important that you're <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>protected,<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>not<br />people in that way. <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>the purity<br />It's<br /><i>you-</i> uninterrupted <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>it's<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>what happens when I</p><p>challenge<br />letting yourself<br />be seen<br />intimately<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>just to pause<br />there.<br />open<br />voice and<br />sense of self, and <span style="background-color: black;"><i><br /></i></span>open up<br />deeper<br />there<br />comes to sens<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>what's gonna make you<br />strong<br />digging in<br />deeper<br />more intimate</p><p>you are singing<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>you are healing<br />I think<br />people<br />connect<br />you're getting braver<br />if you feel<br />... <i>do it</i>. <span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>powerful<br />it comes<br />You will be able to<br />release<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>yourself<br />Don't hesitate<br />offer that gift</p><p>I hope that helps.</p>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444508151632682565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-59685256776914764032023-06-17T21:11:00.006-07:002023-06-17T21:11:45.693-07:00<p>I'm so glad I escaped you<br />like a rat in the sewer lines</p><p>The lines of our hearts<br />are broken once more</p><p>And your face it lingers <br />in mine right there<br />always right there</p><p>Lingering<br />your deep eyes used to hold so much</p><p>Depth that was never there<br />a mirage of wisdom</p><p>You were never very good at any of it</p><p>Your face is a rat<br />your fingers curl around empty space<br />I'm not there anymore, you idiot</p><p>I chased the tangled string into knots<br />you thought you were the puppet master<br />but you could never catch me</p><p>I am uncatchable<br />you are not a catch at all<br />I fantasize about<br />that question in your eyes</p><p>When you realize I was never playing your fucking game<br />coward<br />I could have made you</p><p>I was one step ahead at all times<br />you tried to build a cage that I wouldn't notice but I knew you from the beginning.</p><p>I came back willingly<br />and I left the same</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-71965892424079476352021-03-13T09:31:00.002-08:002023-01-29T09:32:29.584-08:00If you asked for me<br />I know I would come back<br />But more importantly<br />I know you'll never ask<br /><br />And that goddamn ring<br />It never meant a thing<br />But if you asked me<br />I'd gladly make believe<br /><br />...I'm just a little bit lonely these days.Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-75792020969686320532020-10-21T13:37:00.003-07:002020-10-21T13:37:43.295-07:00<p>I am miserable all of the time. I feel guilty for saying that. I question if it is true. It must not be true. I have certainly had moments, or hours, or even days, where I was not miserable. But, currently, I feel like I am miserable all of the time. My brain is never at peace. I forget what “content” feels like. I am constantly thinking of everything that is wrong. This includes everything from the state of the world to the rough calluses on my heels. I struggle to think of one comforting thought. I search for it like a breath. If I could just think of one nice thought, my brain would be flooded with oxygen, and all of this misery would fade away. I try to picture my friends’ smiles. I try to picture beautiful views I’ve had the privilege of seeing. I try to remember times of laughter. I try to remind myself that I am safe, and I try to conjure a memory of truly feeling safe.</p><div>Everything distorts in my brain space. A friend’s smiling face inspires the sadness of missing, and an anxiety that I can never know if anyone truly loves me. Beautiful views are either caught up in bittersweetness and old faces, or inspire only an intense nostalgia and longing. Sometimes I can remember laughing, but the circumstances are always fuzzy, and I know I will never find those circumstances again. I am full of bitterness and disappointment and despair. My emotions are a taint on everything that could be bright or sweet. Tears wait anxiously at the edges of my vision at all times. I feel no hope. I can come up with nothing to look forward to, nothing to be excited for, only anxiety. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have been inside for eight months. I hate everyone who goes outside. I hate everyone who gets to hug a loved one. I hate everyone for having loved ones that they know, for sure, love them. What does it feel like? What does it feel like to know? I can still feel the wound from the last time I thought I knew. Sometimes it feels more like a scar, but right now it is a gaping, rotting wound. When I let myself observe it, I am overwhelmed with feelings of humiliation, rage, and despair. I am ashamed that it still hurts. I can see that in the grand scheme of the entire universe, my biggest wound means nothing. I can see others surviving much worse. I can see others overcoming and thriving, making the best of what they were given. I am afraid this is the best I can do. </div><div><br /></div>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-29843819623636715762020-08-31T09:09:00.008-07:002023-01-29T09:11:01.761-08:00<p>You left a gaping wound in me.<br />I'm still measuring the whole<br />Of all that we were meant to be.<br /><br />I knew, I knew, I always knew...<br />I tried to leave, but I chose not to.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-80360571227552940802020-08-28T21:03:00.007-07:002023-01-29T09:05:27.289-08:00<p>Are the times I'm living in now really so strange?<br />It feels that way, but aren't all times strange?<br />Aren't we always on the verge of something?<br />Couldn't the world always end at any moment?<br />Isn't humanity always on the edge of extinction?<br /></p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-263093042570101542020-08-28T15:11:00.017-07:002023-01-29T09:03:35.399-08:00<p>Why does it hurt so bad again?<br />Why do I miss him so much?<br />Why did it touch me when he apologized?<br />Why do I want to reach out and touch him?<br /><br />The world is falling apart around me—<br />nearly literally...<br />And my tears are for him?<br />For myself?<br /><br />If we're not allowed to cry for our own hearts<br />Then what can we cry for?<br /><br />The part of me that loved him died.<br />I shudder from the deepness of the wound.<br />I feel it from my wrist to my throat.<br /><br />I really lost myself...<br />But it felt like finding myself,<br />and that terrifies me.<br /><br />My whole life is a series of discovering foundational lies...<br />That my sense of self was built on shifting sands.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-2242960950484686402020-08-28T06:54:00.002-07:002020-08-28T06:54:28.383-07:00<p>I don't know how to live now,<br />I realize I'm still dazed by your absence,<br />I still find myself staring down<br />a thousand miles at the ceiling<br />some nights.<br />But you're a thousand miles away.<br />Lightyears— nonexistent—<br />so far.<br />I want to think of larger things.<br />How long will I live in this trap<br />of my own making?<br />I want to think about so much<br />more than you.<br />I want to think about everything<br />but you<br />are there in the way<br />of my thoughts.<br />I have to trust that my mind<br />can still unravel some<br />unfound revelation<br />yet to be found in you.<br />I have to trust my mind...</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-63437084815101877932020-08-27T06:49:00.000-07:002020-08-28T06:52:09.891-07:00<p>I miss you.</p><p>I miss him.<br />I miss the person I knew.</p><p>But you were never there.<br />Being homesick<br />with nowhere to call home.</p><p>I miss my husband.</p><p>My imagined lover.</p><p>I miss the false sense of knowing.<br />I miss everything.</p><p>I miss you.<br />I miss us.<br />I miss the space I was living in.</p><p>I miss myself— the softer version.<br />I'm so tired now.</p><p>I could be light with you—<br />I thought so...<br />How does two years hurt so much—<br />an injury a hundred years old.<br />The thing I miss the most<br />is your stomach in the small of my back<br />in time with your breathing.</p><p>I don't know where to hold those moments.<br />Where in my body do I bury them?</p><p>Where do I bury you now that you're gone?</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-46148861288116734422020-08-10T06:48:00.000-07:002020-08-28T06:49:24.702-07:00<p>The thrill of goodbye—<br />to jump from a cliff of that height<br />the choice of how to go: fast or slow<br />though terminal velocity remains—<br />the suspension<br />that one moment<br />the split second between universes<br />the one eon before the end.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-11741320265559465212020-07-30T06:45:00.000-07:002020-08-28T06:46:57.595-07:00<p>Love is mutual delusion.<br />When I asked if you meant it,<br />I meant are you committed<br />—to delude yourself with me<br />—to this version of the universe<br />—to lie to ourselves over and over<br />—to maintain this reality.</p><p>I'll never really know<br />if you lied or simply<br />misunderstood...<br />but my freedom is in knowing<br />that is doesn't matter.</p><p>Because I control my reality<br />and I choose the version<br />where you betrayed me.<br />And that is the best revenge I'll ever get.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-18381740368394209872020-07-11T06:43:00.001-07:002023-01-29T09:09:13.759-08:00<p>What it was to please you<br />the sparkling heat in my chest<br />—the light that your smile lit in me...<br /></p><p>The feeling of being pleasing...<br />the holy water of your pleasure<br />cleansed me of all sins...</p><p>Only when I please you.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-2932022702091258592020-04-24T06:40:00.000-07:002020-08-28T06:42:35.863-07:00<p>It feels like a huge gash—<br />from my right collarbone down through my chest.<br />It's a hole that's restrictive—<br />an emptiness where air should be.</p><p>...Why does it feel so profoundly pathetic to need oxygen?</p><p>It wasn't real.<br />It still feels like shredding air being torn from my lungs.</p><p>I want to blame him,<br />but I think I'm the one<br />that tore out my heart.<br />I wanted him to see me so badly—<br />I had to rip it out— to show him.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-58182680679449168272020-02-21T06:33:00.000-08:002020-08-28T06:36:01.458-07:00<p>There will be no relief next time.<br />I will not allow myself to invest so much of my peace into another human being ever again.<br />They play games and have tricks.<br />And I do not appreciate it.</p><p>In the end, maybe we're all just selfish.<br />No matter how much we pretend to be otherwise. No matter how much we pretend to love another.</p><p>We could never truly surrender ourselves in that way.<br />The way I did with you.<br />Because I let myself believe that someone else like me really existed... an equal.</p><p>I have no equal.</p><p>Will I ever forgive myself for letting you think you were better than me?</p><p>Maybe.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-27115089955574908022020-02-19T06:30:00.000-08:002020-08-28T06:32:59.702-07:00<p>How long have you gone<br />longing for the touch of another?</p><p>Not one second—<br />Never, not once.<br /><br />You see, the truth is,<br />you are always touching someone.<br /><br />You see, the truth is<br />you need<br />to always<br />be grabbing on<br />to someone much stronger than you.</p><p>The truth is<br />that you are<br />no one without someone<br />injecting themselves into your empty soul.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-41939174975170543572019-09-18T06:27:00.000-07:002020-08-28T06:29:12.080-07:00<p>Your weight slowly lifts from me.<br />No longer suffocating— still heavy.<br />I actually want to thank you for breaking your last promise—<br />one of many.<br />It was the final crack<br />in the coffin that was my love for you.<br />It let in air and light— that I hadn't seen in a long time.<br />It broke my reality—<br />so I can build one that's just mine.<br />I actually want to thank you<br />for all your broken promises— so many.<br />You broke my heart open so I could taste the love that was my own.<br />You let down your disguise,<br />and I saw that every part I loved of you was gone.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-37116794811644814452019-09-17T06:24:00.000-07:002020-08-28T06:26:39.327-07:00<p>I don't miss him right now.<br />He was a figment of my imagination.<br />So there's no reason to miss him.<br />I can visit him anytime.<br />He's just behind my eyes.<br />He was never there.</p><p>You've left a gaping wound in me.<br />I'm still measuring the hole.<br />When did you stop smiling at me?<br />How long did I know?</p><p>I was right,<br />I was right,<br />I was always right.<br />Why didn't I listen to myself the first time?<br /></p><p>They've trained us not to listen to ourselves.<br />They prey on our generosity— we assume the best— for love.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-12458237651020360902019-09-15T06:21:00.000-07:002020-08-28T06:24:11.124-07:00<p>I just want you to feel ashamed.<br />I only want you to regret hurting me.<br />That's the only thing you could give to me now.<br />If you ever cared for me at all,<br />which seems questionable at this point,<br />but if you did...<br /></p><p>Could you please just give me the dignity of understanding exactly what it is that you have done?<br />Would you ever dare to feel, even for a moment, exactly how much pain you have caused?</p><p>I only want justice.<br />I only want there to be consequences for this betrayal.<br />I just want what is fair:<br /> an eye for an eye.<br /> a wound for a scar.<br /> a tear for my heart.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-26969498921306302552019-09-10T06:18:00.000-07:002020-08-28T06:20:22.767-07:00I'm not sure I have the strength to back up my bravery.<p>I was brave for you.<br />Brave in only the way a much younger version of myself could be.<br />I time traveled for you.<br />Only to realize that you wouldn't do the same for me.<br /></p><p>So here I am.<br />And it's not as if I won't move on from here.<br />But it's not where I'm supposed to be.<br />Everything shifted.<br />And you were gone.</p><p>I was brave for you.<br />You didn't deserve it.<br /></p><p>So here I am.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-65886104087630223202019-09-08T20:42:00.000-07:002020-08-27T20:43:15.218-07:00<p>I used to lie in bed<br />and just think about you.<br />It was a pastime— my favorite one.<br />I still lie in bed<br />and think about you.<br />I just wish I could stop.<br />What was once heaven<br />has become a prison.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-89408429235037922882019-09-01T20:41:00.000-07:002020-08-27T20:42:07.865-07:00<p>I feel trapped.<br />You left me here in a cage.<br />You told me to go, but you did not free me.<br />You remain stuck in my psyche.<br />But you are not here.<br />How can it be that you are in two places at once?<br />Here with me and there with her.<br />Why are you so cowardly?<br />How can she stand you?<br />...I know how she can.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-83163431514286590592019-08-23T20:37:00.000-07:002020-08-27T20:40:28.603-07:00<p>I love being alone.<br />I find myself beautiful.<br />Somewhere along the way I learned<br />that I was not allowed to love myself.<br />I thought it vanity?<br />But I am beautiful.<br />I am capable of beautiful things.<br />I am capable of beautiful love.<br />And I refuse to not love myself— beautifully.<br />I am the only one truly deserving— unconditionally.<br />My love is mine.<br />It is earned— but freely given.<br />How terrible to try so hard to not love yourself.<br />How it must rip one into two.<br />No wounder I felt so alone— incomplete.<br />You cannot be yourself<br />while withholding your love<br />from its own source...</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-70494942295604773102019-08-23T20:34:00.000-07:002020-08-27T20:37:23.587-07:00<p>Every expression I make towards you is poetry.<br />Everything I've ever felt for you was poetry.<br />Don't you know that you're always reading my poems?<br />Have you not noticed my beauty— even once?<br />Were you really never stunned by me?<br />Impossible.<br />I shined so brightly for you.<br />But I was only ever the moon in your eyes (—the sun— remember?).<br />I stood before you— powerful.<br />It was a meeting of two equals— two goddesses— two lovers— two beings—<br />But I was wrong.<br />And you were weak.<br />Bow down before your queen.</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-85043023613332225402019-08-19T20:32:00.000-07:002020-08-27T20:33:47.274-07:00<p>I was always alone.<br />Is that the secret?<br />Or<br />I was never alone.<br />Or<br />There is no secret.<br />Is that it?</p><p>Were you never really here?<br />Or<br />You were right here<br />And you left anyway?<br />Or<br />You were right here<br />And you just never fucking saw me?<br />Is that it?</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7555694618233535129.post-15836950670097877822019-08-16T20:31:00.000-07:002020-08-27T20:32:32.076-07:00<p>Truly<br />Righteous and godly<br />People surround me.<br /></p><p>Why do I keep giving my heart to people who are so unworthy of my friends?</p><p>Why did I trust you?<br />Why did I trust him?<br />Who is he?<br />Did we ever even meet?</p>Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15625559847889893714noreply@blogger.com0