glory! : eclipse

washer

Goodnight my love Remember me as you fall to sleep Fill your pockets with the dust and the memories That rises from the shoes on my feet I won't be back here Though we may meet again I know it's dark outside Don't be afraid Everytime I ever cried from fear Was just a mistake that I made Wash yourself in your tears And build your church On the strength of your faith Please Listen to me Don't let go Don't let this desperate moonlight leave me With your empty pillow Promise me the sun will rise again I too am tired now Embracing thoughts of tonight's dreamless sleep My head is empty My toes are warm I am safe from harm...

Monday, April 8, 2024

eclipse

I did not want to visit a psychiatrist. if i was to consumt, pour my secrets over, i feel like they would pounce back at me and id be raped again.

everytime i think of it it floods me, i wish i was one to forgive things as they came back to me. but i am not. and God will never make me clean again. i will die in my filth.

when i was a young girl I hated laughing and smiling. I was very stern and serious. when i found something pleasing or humorous, i tried my best for my facial expression to remain shaped into a solid mask.

i wish I could start over. i wish i could start over so badly. i know i cant. i can feel this death move into my body, laying its furniture, painting the walls of my skull. to know its too late is such a particular, cruel torture. why have this punishment, the greatest ever, be gifted to anyone who has committed the crime of living.

this brain of mine, this parasite in this beautiful host. i am not happy. i made this shallow mud my grave. my remains are never going to be clean, i will perpetually rot and bloat into a pale, shapeless mass. and my body will never relax

into my bones or shred and melt into the earth.

and my skull is still so soft. it hurts to press into it. and the pressure inside my head is so dull and i feel as if i had an animal inside of it, expanding into its cavities.

the eclipse is coming soon. I had a dream. The moon was shaped like a lightbulb and it floated around the world at an altitude of maybe six meters from the ground we live on. and it came into our house, my parents room where we were gathered, and destroyed everything. but its movement was slow, smooth and graceful. and it glowed white.

how i wish for simpler times. how i do. how i writhe. i long for other things, long for other people, long for more. i looked good on saturday. today i dress in rags again, i fade into my bed. fade into oblivion. i step into the void that i house, this deep oceanic darkness. the sound of the atlantic ocean. the serpent deity wrapped around my ankles and wrists, spreading me over the marble platform, caressing my sternum with a shining blade. the ring of white light over the black night, the chirp on the creatures of day and the eyes of the creatures of night.

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sylvia plath, the bell jar

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Psalm 18: 6-11

In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears. Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him was dark waters And thick clouds of the skies.