Suppressed memories clogging
I don't understand when I write things on here that people think it has to do with them. Its just emotions. And more times than not it is a repeat from my childhood. SO sad that even the smallest thing can rehash bad memories of my youth. I forgive so much. Yet to FORGET is the hardest thing in the world.
Granted I no longer have to experience most of this crude I still feel it. SO yeah my head spins webs about what happened years ago. Some days I even relive it daily. To be in my environment is deadly but I am able to pull out the good among the poison. Or even why gaining the poison is beneficial to me.
See if you knew my story, dysfunctional is mild. My life is not been roses nor has it been blackness to the extreme. There were days yes where I thought death was a grand escape only to realize that only certain people win when I do that.
SO yeah I am not this privileged white girl has been living in a fantastic world. No. Far from it. And any day I have repeats of things that assault me in ways I hope to erase.
So most of my poetry is that of those moments. Becoming me at the end is the importance. Finding that calm in me is the supreme. Yet there are days when I can't distinguish what is good nor bad. What is healthy or not. Because I am floating in those dangerous childhood memories.
Sure I post here and there that I had blissful moments in my life. All before the age of 4. After that has been one big struggle. So bear with me as I exploit those moments when I can. Believe me I have seen my share of horror, of satan's demons in my life. The torment is real. Some days more than others.
I am broken. I am fragile. I am me.
I have no other meanings for you to gather except I have to shut down so much in my mind. So much or I have, must write about it.
So dearest friend of mine. Not about you. About my terrors rebuild for a few moments in my eyes. Horrors, betrayal and death. Just sometimes I feel like I am going to die. Not physically just mentally. No. Not depressed. Just suppressed memories clogging my mind.
Granted I no longer have to experience most of this crude I still feel it. SO yeah my head spins webs about what happened years ago. Some days I even relive it daily. To be in my environment is deadly but I am able to pull out the good among the poison. Or even why gaining the poison is beneficial to me.
See if you knew my story, dysfunctional is mild. My life is not been roses nor has it been blackness to the extreme. There were days yes where I thought death was a grand escape only to realize that only certain people win when I do that.
SO yeah I am not this privileged white girl has been living in a fantastic world. No. Far from it. And any day I have repeats of things that assault me in ways I hope to erase.
So most of my poetry is that of those moments. Becoming me at the end is the importance. Finding that calm in me is the supreme. Yet there are days when I can't distinguish what is good nor bad. What is healthy or not. Because I am floating in those dangerous childhood memories.
Sure I post here and there that I had blissful moments in my life. All before the age of 4. After that has been one big struggle. So bear with me as I exploit those moments when I can. Believe me I have seen my share of horror, of satan's demons in my life. The torment is real. Some days more than others.
I am broken. I am fragile. I am me.
I have no other meanings for you to gather except I have to shut down so much in my mind. So much or I have, must write about it.
So dearest friend of mine. Not about you. About my terrors rebuild for a few moments in my eyes. Horrors, betrayal and death. Just sometimes I feel like I am going to die. Not physically just mentally. No. Not depressed. Just suppressed memories clogging my mind.
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