November 19, 2019
“You don’t look depressed”
I hear that every day
But what the fuck does that mean
What are depression’s ways?
Depression isn’t always
Crying in your bed
It doesn’t always mean
You wish that you were dead
It means that your drowning
And at times don’t know why
You’re body aches from a hurt
You can’t see with your eyes


It’s a battle for your life
That you play everyday
Never really knowing
If today is okay
People with depression
Can paint a smile on their face
A master of disguise
Hiding the loneliest of place


If you wonder what it looks like
To lose the battle for your life
It looks so much like happiness
You’ll never see the knife

My Number

November 12, 2019

You have my number
And boy do you use it
Dialing it up
You outright abuse it


I’m head over heels
And you know what to say
To melt me like butter
And have me your way


You take your time
So I won’t suspect
We’re just a few moments
From weeks of neglect


You fill yourself up
On my strawberry wine
You drink yourself silly
On this love of mine


And when you are full
And when I am drained
You leave me alone
Feeling lost once again


Oh boy are you smooth
With your words and your game
Because I always come running

When you sound my name


When you call me up
I forget what you’ve done
I forget all the pain
I forget I should run


I just fall into you
I forgive what’s been done
Somehow you convince me
That this time I won

Cobblestone and Broken Glass

November 5, 2019
I’ve walked too far along the path

Of cobblestone and broken glass

Warily I carry on

Through the dark I walk ‘til dawn

With worn out soul and bloody toes

I’ve given up on going home

It’s not just a step or moment I see

But wasted time and long-lost dreams

Something strange about pain we know

It’s better than a life unknown

This is why I travel on

Always back to something gone


October 30, 2019

Sinners smile
Angels cry
Once in awhile
Everyone lies
Rich in life
Rich in love
Different blessings
One from above
Darkness falls
Candles flicker
Sweetness fades
Life grows bitter
Battles fought
Mostly lost
Is it worth
The life it cost
Physical ache
Seeks out release
Blood from skin
Offers temporary relief
Bruised and battered
Where scars tend to hide
You long to give in
As good and evil collide
Silently sinking
Legs fold and collapse
You reach for comfort
In a bottle you relapse

Fucking Spaghetti

September 26, 2019

I cooked tonight – I know I know – hold your applause. 😂

Tonight I cooked spaghetti and homemade sauce. For the first time in two years.

After I moved in with my ex, he criticized me what felt like everyday. There was always something I did wrong or some way in which I wasn’t good enough.

I always cooked dinner. Even before we lived together. Often, because he worked second shift I would cook at my place and then he would call on his way home and I’d pack everything up, drive the 15 minutes across town and meet him so he could roll up to a hot meal. Before we lived together he didn’t say too much beyond thank you. Occasionally he would indicate that he thought I should cut something a different way or add another ingredient, but nothing major nor terribly hurtful.

But when we moved in, I never made another meal right – for 18 months every day I either made new things that “just weren’t good” or what I made was missing a seasoning or an ingredient or wasn’t spiced enough or was too spicy or was too basic. When I finally managed to have three meals that he didn’t criticize (after learning and following his exact instructions), he then complained I made them every week. Spaghetti was one of the three btw.

One Thanksgiving he suggested we pack up the food and bring it to the homeless. I thought it was sweet and caring. Later he told me he suggested it because the food was so bad that he didn’t want to have to eat it; my heart literally broke.

By the time I left my confidence in my ability to cook was shot. I didn’t want to make any food and I barely have since. But tonight, I made spaghetti. And now I’m crying. It actually tasted pretty good but cooking reminds me of being told every day how I’m not good enough.

Mental and emotional abuse is the worst.

I like other people’s darkness

September 21, 2019

I am so full of darkness. Sadness and sorrow and pain and hurt. It’s suffocating and something I’m constantly drowning in.

When you live like this, you like other people’s darkness…it’s like a life preserving that gives you a break from your own darkness. It gives you a safe place to breathe.

If you have darkness, you know what I’m talking about.

But Then Again

September 6, 2019

Sitting here a little lonely tonight. Looked at some old photos and thought about you. The good times. The times before the first time that fell apart.

I start to type a message … Was just looking at old photos… makes me miss you a teensy bit.

But then again, what’s the point. Nothing with you is real anyway.

Drown it away

September 4, 2019

Lately I’ve just been looking for a place to drown my soul. I cry, I drink, I fuck – just anyway to forget being me for one god damn minute.

This life that I’m stuck in, isn’t what I planned. Maybe it’s my ego but I can’t accept it and yet I do nothing to change it. I just sit here trying to drown it away.

I don’t want anyone to get close and yet I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want yesterday’s life and yet I can’t seem to accept it is gone. I don’t want to die but I don’t want to live either.

Maybe that’s it – I started crying immediately when I wrote that – I don’t want to die but I don’t want to live either. I spent my whole life trying to live my best life – trying to be positive and trying to always find the silver lining and you know what it got me? Nothing. No one. Completely shit on and left. I’m so tired of it. So when the day is over, when everyone has gone home and I am all alone, I take off my clothes, I have some vodka, and I left the world just disappear.

I never in a million years predicted I’d end up here – so depressed – so destructive- so alone – so drunk.


July 1, 2019

For some people – people like me, people who feel too big, try too hard, want to much – life has a way of eating you from the inside out.

It’s been a rough week. I broke no contact with my ex – but he turned out to be much stronger than me. See, he never gives me the chance to truly do no contact, it’s just “no initiate”. Because he and I both know if he tried I would respond. But instead he does nothing til I’m devastated and begging him to pretty please 🥺 answer me. But he doesn’t. Because he is no contact.

It’s fucking sad too. Because quite frankly he should be devastated not me. He should be trying not me. But he is a narcissist so of course – that’s not how he views it from up their in the heavens where all Gods live.

I lost two friends. Not to death but to pride and ego, misunderstandings really. But sometimes things snap and break and well damage becomes too much to even try to deal with. But it’s still hurtful. To have people you loved, people you cared for, people you went out of your way to help and love without judgement and with kindness and with the best intentions just savagely attack you all while you sit confused on how they can be so unkind and yet blame you – accuse you of playing victim as they literally attack? It’s baffling.

I’m just over it all. I’m over other people. I’m over this life. Like will it ever get better? I’m so tired of pretending like I’m happy or like I’m okay. I’m so sick of being brave and having courage only to get stabbed incessantly.

I’m tired of being a good person because everyone only ever accuses you of things that you aren’t doing…like they are an authority of your feelings.

I only want to live for my kids. I’d be done if not for them. I’m back to crying every night, back to not sleeping, back to jaw clenching and back to forgetting to eat like a normal person – starving and binging. I’m back to not wanting to do anything. It’s incredible the darkness I sit in, and even more incredible that it’s the light that seems to kill me,

Hope is the worst thing a person can have. Fuck hope.

Pain in my soul

June 3, 2019

And ex once said to me that when I’m hurt or I cry, he can feel the pain… I don’t just cry but I’m beyond hurt and it’s obvious.

I live these emotions and sometimes I don’t even notice how hard the hit, how deep they reach, or how big the hurt is sometimes.

Tonight – I felt an overwhelming sense of pain deeply in my soul.

I asked my son a question and he just ignored me. He said he didn’t mean to, he was thinking but it wasn’t clear that was what was happening. What was clear was I asked a question and he did not respond or acknowledge in any way.

In that moment – I just felt a tidal wave of pain wash over me. I said something like I am extremely dumbfounded and I started to cry. I went to my room and I just cried.

And I fucking ached.

I ached for love and respect and partnership and comfort. I ached for understanding and kindness and security. I ached for hope and grace. I fucking ached to the depth of my soul.

Obviously, I know this tidal wave wasn’t about my son – it was just this moment that reminded me of a million other moments I’ve collected over the years. But the pain I felt, hurt.

I’m so tired of being hurt. I’m tired of pretending I’m not hurt. I’m tired of having to be brave and have courage. I’m tired of not having comfort.

I wish life had played out so differently for me I wish instead of feeling pain I could feel peace, instead of hurt I could feel hope, instead of lonely I could feel love.