Ink Stained Soul…

I am strong. I can handle myself. I was given no other choice. I long to be cared for. To rest into an embrace where I can be soft and safe. Arms wrapped around me. Guiding me, so I can let my weary mind drift into dreams. Space I don’t have to carve out in a never-ending demand that requires my sacrifice. Yes, I can do it all. I just don’t want to have to.

Everything changes, evolving as growth takes place. The sands on a shoreline building and eroding to take new shape and yet coming back to its beautiful natural state. Trees, that you only notice for a time, once they hit a certain point most don’t notice the steady steps of its inner work still taking form. Flowers from seedlings to bloom in their circle of life.
Your views, your heart change as lessons form. Who you were always meant to be becomes the thing you grow towards.
Change. Growth. Evolution. Beautiful in each stage in its own way. That is your soul, heart, body. Natural and perfectly created.

I feel you tonight. Deep in my chest, echoes of us linger like phantoms, holding me. You make me smile. The simplest things mean so much. The leaf I pulled out of my hair on that field is the only reminder that we both touched the same grass. You did it for me. I knew, somehow, in my heart, but when you told me, I felt it. I think it was you calling me to that spot – the one where I became even more me. You do that. You remind me how to love myself. I feel you all around me, in my head, my heart. Your soul is so bright for me. You lead me, and I listened to only you.

We forget. When we are busy building, dreaming, walking through life so fiercely, the fragility lying underneath the surface. Lying in bed, stripped down in illness, there it sits. Like the sweat of your brow as fever breaks or the weaknesses in your body as nothing else can stay inside you. You can be feeling as if nothing can hold you back. In mere days, you are reminded that everything is a gift. And so, when we forget, the hands of fate show us to treasure it always.

I can’t be sacrificed again. Strapped to an altar for your sacrifice. Giving my heart under the moon and stars only to have it carved out of my chest. Running as fast as my feet will go, but slashed at to wound further. Your gift from The Gods themselves, watching from their thrones as you slaughter what was meant to be unconditional. Tears shed from the sacred promise I made, even if you never heard. By the morning light, my cries will be faint, my heart barely beating. When they take me away, you will see who I was. I can’t be sacrificed anymore. And my love can’t be replicated.

The act of washing a woman’s hair in the shower is a sensual experience. Moving your hair to one side as he kisses your neck and shoulder softly. He lowers himself to her feet to wash her legs and kiss her ankles. Be gentle with the kind of care that shows adoration. Letting the water cascade down you both as he looks up into your eyes while kneeling before you. Washing away fears of opening your heart.

For you, I surrendered.
I took you to my sacred temple,
Allowing myself to come undone
Under your possessive protection.
Letting our souls intertwine
In ways that no one else knows me.
No one has ever had me like you.
That was my choice,
And it wasn’t a choice at all.

With you, two things have always been true.
When something’s off,
When our connection gets tainted by fear or others,
Things aren’t aligned,
We both feel that
In our souls,
In the way our bodies move—
A song only we can hear
When the threads of red, gold, and silver
Shimmer into the cord that binds us.
When your guttural nature can’t hide—
That is when you know
My surrender has taken us back
Where we belong. Each other.

Now you just have to figure out
How to keep me there.
I am yours to keep,
But I am also yours to lose.

Reflection of the year that has passed: I can close this era of my life with grace and love. My core was shaken. Shadows of my past came for me over and over. Health failures, uncertainty, fear, heartache—all took pieces of me. Diving deeper into who I am, my grounding force. Collecting my horcruxes, I reemerge as something new. My pieces are painted golden as I pour my heart and soul into my art. I give myself permission to be honest with myself, even if I do it alone. Fighting my demons, terrified of being alone, never knowing if I will ever experience love in its true form. Becoming their friend as I learn my love is rare, and so I give it to myself. This era of lessons, heartbreak, and brokenness is closing. I will step into unknown waters to start the age of being Sue Ellen—who I always was under the lifetime of pain. It didn’t matter what happened, who hurt me. Who I am, was, and will always be—love.

The story ends the same, but the antagonist has changed over the years. Our protagonist starts out being the sister of the best friend, hidden in plain sight, but must lurk in shadows. Her first lesson of worth, disguised as thrill. Boys parading in and out, in awe of this sparkling star, only to look at a different horizon. False saviors selling stories of love and desire. Talking of building and loyal branding. A tale as old as time. Lust and conquest were truly the objective. Yeah, the antagonist changed over the years, but our protagonist became a pawn while standing in the Queen position. The narrative shifted. Her dream forming, and so she became her own writer. Now a new story line begins.

I didn’t want to be strong today. The familiar tone of a doctor when news was coming. Knowing that whatever is being said, you must listen and not react. Seeing my baby on the table, unaware what this means. She isn’t 8 months old anymore—this time she’s closer to 15 years old. Words, words you didn’t ever expect to hear again. Failure to thrive. I didn’t want to be strong. The shadows of our past coming to have another shot at us. To try and take my baby girl. Blood work, possible spinal issues, stunted growth, implications of long term damage. As if autism and other medical issues haven’t stolen enough. I didn’t want to be strong, but for her I was.