It is truly sad to think, that so many times the people who offer the most supportive and positive words, are the ones that battle with the darkest and deepest fears and inner demons. However, it is only because of their own struggle that they know what words to say. It is because of their own internal war that they know how to react to hearing the battle stories of others. It is both a curse and a blessing if you choose to see it that way. The choice is yours, but I choose positivity. I choose to use my own darkness to help others get through theirs. So that someday, hopefully, we can say we know what true happiness feels like. Together.
Tag: free write
Past Feels
No feelings. No thoughts. No words. No nothing but space and time and history, I guess. There is a lot of history here. So much so that it breaks me. Just the thought of it. Of it all. That simple thought can stop me in my tracks, and start me running back. Back to everything I was. Everything I originally ran from. History. Oh History. It can kill. It can ruin someone. It can ruin me. So we stand. No feelings. No thoughts. No words. Just nothing. Space and history. So much of each. They can make us or ruin us. Which will it be? Yes or no? Made or ruined? Home or running?
©C. O’Connor, 2016
Illness
Can’t breathe
Haven’t been
Day to day
Coughing lungs
One gives up clogs up
In my face
Months
Months!
Dealt with it
Not dying
Not of this
sick mentally
sick emotionally
sick physically
Falling mind
Falling apart
Stress from outside
Body breaking
To nothing
I’ll be gone
Grains of sand.
©C.O’Connor, 2016
What I Really Want
The things I want are not what you think I want. I do not want clothes, or shoes, or material things. What I hope for is a state of mind.
I want to wake up excited for the day, every day. I do not only want to look forward to the special days when something new is planned.
I want to live without stressing about schedules: work schedules, sleep schedules, no schedules. Except for the ones I create. No life except the life I choose.
I want to be adventurous without worrying about the things that I should be doing.
I want to be reckless without worrying about my reputation.
I want to stay up and sleep late without knowing that the next day will be a waste because of it.
I want to have a job that doesn’t exhaust me so much that by the time I get home I have nothing left in me other than the ability to get ready for the next day.
I want to go outside and see the sun without glass in between.
I want to be happy.
I want to care about things that I care about because I care about them, and not because I’m supposed to according to someone else.
I want to look forward to tomorrow because I am excited about each second.
I want to want to live every moment to its fullest, and not see each day as something standing in my way. One more day on the count down to something.
I want more from life than this.
So stop telling me that I want I want I want, because I have studied, and I have worked, and I have tried this current lifestyle to my best ability. Now I think I deserve, but that doesn’t mean that I will stop working. I only want to work for something that I actually want instead of what I’ve been forced into caring about.
©C.O’Connor, 2016
R.B.F. (Resting Bitch Face)
I’m not the hero. I don’t think I am the villain. Hell, I’m pretty positive that were my life made into a movie I wouldn’t even be the main character. I’d be that random person standing in the background. Everyone around me would have reactions on their faces to whatever is going on. I wouldn’t. My face would be blank. My face is always, and has always, been blank. I’ve heard about it since I was a kid.
One of my earlier memories goes to a time when I was in second or third grade. It was the end of the school day with the excitement of freedom coursing through the student body. I was leaning against the wall in the middle of my class’ line. I think it was the summer, close to the end of the school year. (I have no idea why, and I’m probably lying. It just feels right.)
I can see a blob of colors from kid’s clothes across the hall. I can hear the high pitched thrum of children’s voices overlapping. I don’t remember what I was doing in line, or whether or not I was talking to someone. I do remember the teacher I had in the first grade walking up to me. I do remember her telling me to smile. I do not remember my answer, but I kept thinking, why is she asking me? I wasn’t the only one not smiling. I wasn’t the only kid not looking happy.
So why did she ask me? Why single me out? I didn’t understand then. It took me years to hear the saving phrase that would explain the countless comments I’ve received throughout my life. It explained all of the looks, all of the are you okays?, the you look like you’re about to kill sombodys, and the are you depresseds?
The phrase is Resting Bitch Face. I don’t know when I first heard it, but it has become a part of my life, my daily life. No I’m not depressed, at least not at this moment in my life. No I’m not going to kill someone. I don’t want to go to jail. And don’t even get me started on whether or not I’m okay.
©C. O’Connor, 2016
The Notes
The notes were from a good night. An entire pile of memories from an amazing summer. A summer that ended so abruptly. The notes and pieces of flower decorations became the memories of the disaster. They now carried with them thoughts of thrashing, screaming, and glass shattering. They now represent what had been lost. What I once had. They remind me of the betrayal. They remind me of the people who said they would be there forever. But their idea of forever stopped when the first thin went wrong. The notes remind me of friends who weren’t friends and warm summer nights.
I try to focus on the good now.
©C. O’Connor
A little bit of my darkness
My hands are shaking today. I hate the shaking. It’s like the set up to the downfall of my mind. The doors are rattling and everyone is screaming. The hinges have loosened and the cages holding in my demons aren’t as strong as they used to be.
My fucking demons are screaming at me.
They hate me. They’ll ruin me if given the chance.
But sometimes I wonder what would happen if I let them out. Would they really ruin my life or show me the life I could have? Could live? Should be living?
A little chaos could be good for the soul.
The bottles that hold my emotions are breaking. They’ve been packed in too tight. It looks like a mess in there. Be careful of the broken glass!
I’m losing myself! OR Am I finding myself?
Was there really every anything worth saving? Is there anything left worth salvaging? I think my demons are laughing at me now. They know I’m losing it. That small bit of control I still had. Why am I so afraid of losing something I was never proud of to begin with? Was I ever proud of myself?
Rarely… only when I let the demons out.
©C. O’Connor 2016
#7 – It’s Complicated
I wasn’t flying I was falling
but suspended in air
I was hurt I was crying
I needed you there
you were gone
you were missing
you ran away
and now I’m left and I’m lonely
it’s just another day
A day in my life
come on and walk in my shoes
A day in my hell
singing the blues
a lost kid a found soul
reckless to a fault
Get to know who I am
just leave me to fall
Not fly
suspended in air.
© O’Connor, 2016
Judgement
Have you ever known the air in your hair
or the touch of harm?
Have you ever known the wisp of breath
or heat of the sun?
Do you know the middle place of heat to cold
or the prayer not to get too old?
Do you know the wish for peace in a world
lost to war?
lost to ego
lost to pay
lost to the amenities to get through the day
They are lost in their own minds
They are focused on their own grind
They don’t even see you
not me
not see
no fear no feelings
fight or flight is dumbed down
muted
no running
sitting duck, ready to be rocked
ready to be obliterated
ready to fall
down below
where no one knows
the air, touch, wisp, or heat
where no pain, feels, or emotions seep
there is nothing, all new
I’ve known this hell. I’ve thrived there.
Have you?
©C. O’Connor, 2016
Cleaners
I’m gonna drag you through the cleaners
wonder if “deep clean” can fix your mess
can I bleach the grime and rust away?
when is the last time you used this thing?
or gave it some fresh air
or took it out for a spin
or felt anything at all
It’s a shame to let it waste away in here
does it even still work?
WD-40 and duct tape should get it going
… It explains a lot though
you’ve been reckless
apathetic
the world doesn’t exist
So, you’ve kept it locked up in here.
too long
let it waste and decay
No worries though
I can get the stains out.
I’ll drag you through the cleaners.
©C. O’Connor, 2016
The Rant 