The journeys that we take throughout our lives are complicated and steep. 

Emotional wreckage that crawls ashore in our mind is never ending.

Sometimes it may hold you back from reaching your destination

If you wallow in it and allow the quicksand of yesterday

pollute the clear water in which you currently stand.

Advancement into tomorrow may be shadowed by self grief.

The path you are on is a crystal one. 

It is yours alone.

You have the power to determine left from right

Take that energy and become YOU.

DIH 12/22/18 – 9PM


The Answer

She said "You must have been in love."
Taking a moment to analyze the notion

The idea of loving someone's company
Happily cooking and cleaning
Dressing just for him.

The upkeep of beauty is exhausting
Shaving my legs and arm pits daily
razor burns and nicks.
Blood spilled for love?

It's not unheard of, but my blood?
Does love mean sacrificial offerings
worshiping your lover to some extent
And losing yourself.
Just for love.

It is not love
Rather the romantic idea of love.
Of what it should or could be.
But never quite reaches the prose.

My days of blood offerings are gone.
Romanticizing the feelings
the loving foolish might be with me
The act is not.

DIH 12/4/18


adult anger art black background

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com


If I hold my head this way

You can’t see what I am thinking

know anything more, than an impression

The one I want to give you

choose to show you

the mask that is wearing thin

and refuses to be removed.

Broken and discarded

deserted and cursed

empty without pardon

I will show you no more

I am distrustful of the world of my making

hidden from view

I cry sanctuary

and it echoes back to me

hollow and alone

open up.

DIH 11/17/18



Shut it down


Once is enough

Twice too many

 Seeing things I regret piercing my mind’s eye

Praying they won’t happen again

knowing it will

It’s the realization of the child inside

that things end

And wishing they didn’t

Few know the inside

The one still banging stones on rocks

seeing which one will break first

the hand,

or the stone.

DIH 11/17/18

Dented Can

You’ll keep walking

Not good enough

I’ve been there

Standing in line

hands in my pockets

Head held down

eyes closed

Because I know

I will be passed by.


Not pretty enough

She’s very, very pretty

You love your adjectives.


It doesn’t matter

I know I’m damaged goods

I’ve been standing here for a long time.

I know the routine

Pretty face

Not my type.




Mentally Ill



What makes you perfect?

flawless blue-eyed being.

Blue eyes are a mutation.

Did you know that flawless man?


My eyes are brown

Large fawn-eyed brown

I’m normal

Damaged, but normally so.




Walking Blindly

I love walking. Now that I’ve said it, I will probably stop. I tend to do the opposite of what someone notices about me once they notice. I doubt that’s a rebellious side, but who knows.

I spent four hours chasing Pokemon today. It was fun. I seldom have fun. Shame is that it was alone.

I’m getting tired of being alone. In all aspects. I’m getting tired of rejection from faceless strangers on IG simply because I won’t play their game.

I consider myself to be a lady and expect to be treated like one. I guess we’re a dying breed of female.

I feel a little depression coming on and I know the trigger so I’m knocking out early and deep.

Some tunes and a little taste of oblivion.

Today wasn’t a complete loss. I got a shiny Pokémon who is very powerful.

Here’s the catch, I have no one to share my adventures with concerning the game. My bestie is trying to get a understanding of the game. Which is cool.

Needless to say I’m not your average woman. Some people can’ handle that. I speak my mind, have my own opinions and strange behavior outside of the BiPolar. A dark quirky sense of humor and other things. A different, yet complete package which no one wants.


P.S. I’m considering getting involved in some advocacy again. This one is about mental illness which is something I am passionate about, although it may seem like I don’t care much about things. I give more than one shit about our planet. It’s just hard to join the fight when you spend most of your energy staying out of the nut ward.

Did some poetry on BiPolar Slip my other blog. It’s sexual. Nuf said.


Both Sides…

Knocked back by a cold for a few days. I must admit once you start walking daily its hard to stop. Even while I was sick I just wanted to walk and be out in the air. I did go out. Bundled up while taking short walks and napping once I got home. I was exhausted, but I just NEEDED to walk.

Mentally things are fine. Physically things are fine. Emotionally things are confused.

Trying to figure out what I want in life. Do I want to remain alone? I had resigned myself to being a spinster. That sister/daughter who never married or had children.

At first, the thought made me sad. But there’s a freedom to being alone and a loneliness. It’s the emptiness that kills you. When you want to talk to someone and no one is there. So you pick up the phone and everyone is busy with their family and work.

So what do you do? Where do you go when life is just YOU and it’s not enough.

Do you rush into a relationship just to have someone? Or rekindle an old flame in hopes it stays lit this time. Knowing there was a reason it failed in the first place. But it’s better than the hollow feeling in your chest. Maybe.

I figure I’ll be alone. Not because I’m damaged goods like I used to think. My mental illness doesn’t mean I’ll never find love. Nor am I damaged because of it. If there is someone out there for me or not… I’ll survive.

I had a love. A possibility of having a life with someone who loved me. Or I thought I did. God had other plans and I thank him/her for it.

I realized that when I wrote to him that I was not able to have children and he didn’t want me anymore. All those feelings and empty promises were just that, empty. If I couldn’t breed I was useless. He’s the one who’s useless.

I could get angry. I could hate. Instead, I’ve been spared. Thank you, Lord. He didn’t truly love me. If he did, I wouldn’t be writing this post. A woman’s not a breeding machine. I would have loved to have a child. It just wasn’t meant to be. So be it.

If I find someone who wants this whole beautiful package, we’ll adopt a child or two.

Wow, I called myself beautiful. I’ve never done that before in my life. It’s not a physical beautiful I’m writing about it’s everything I have to offer to a true love. I guess I’m a romantic. Everything I have to offer as a person is what makes this beauty. It’s a fifty-year long journey.

I’m listening to the song, “Both sides now.” by Joni Mitchell

I guess that’s what this post is about. Looking at things from both sides and realizing you really don’t know what you thought you knew.

Age brings a wisdom and acceptance which youth can never fathom.

I’m glad I’m still here.