walking myself home in the dark

Posted on by troutpasta

walking myself home, through the trees
across the stagnant pools, uprooting turnips
plucking flower petals on the way,

(I’m tired of doing this alone)

You were always accompanied

(Sometimes I thought… what I’m holding is too much
for anyone to be with)

Now you know that’s not true, yeah?

(Yeah)

(Yeah I know.
I am held)

You are, you were, you will be

(Thank you for the hard things
that show me what is
survivable)

Everything. All of it

(Yeah. All this is welcome
too)

Posted on by troutpasta

Holding hands with my savior complex
(That’s why Jesus always was my homeboy

We recognize each other like that 

the suffering stranger IS me
that’s why I have to hold 
all of it, always…)

I gotta hold the joy too though 

Or I’ll break 

I’ll break with love in a
heart cracked wide open

frantic need for an end to this struggle I see in 
the way everyone’s gaze

slides down and away 

Dangerous even to see
a being. Here.

the illusion of 
disconnect 

Separation.

parasite money worship 

rabid squirrel storing enough
for a thousand years 

PLEASE

hold me like I’m a child 

let’s rock each other, slow
murmur sleep song 

I don’t want to live in a world 
of desperation.

On some deep level I want to pour it all out till I die of the giving 

Ecstatic death
in service to life 

but I’m holding back 

I want to live,
too

You’re welcome (that’s my ego)

Welcome

(so you are)

__

I am learning how to not over give above my capacity. I’m canceling things.  And letting people take care of me. It feels nice.  My savior complex is so beautiful. I hope it can be friends with the two year old in me that also wants to be nurtured ♥️

I hate capitalism yall. like hate it hate it. I want to make everything I do donation based.

you/we

Posted on by troutpasta

let me hold this lightly
like a love letter brushed over coals

I let you go because I know how devotion works

I let you find me again
after the dark
(or in or through)

because same

Sometimes when I hold my breath I remember the mirror
where we first met

Sometimes when we dance
the love bites chunks from my rigidity

till I’m howling at the night

till “more” is the new more

till the tempo catches up with us
and we remember

that stillness

is

another

word

for forest

love letter

Posted on by troutpasta

Pain is a post-requisite for love. 

I don’t regret

Think I finally am releasing the need for it to be different 

It is this way, can I soften into what is?

I hope we cross paths again somewhere in the portal 

It was so good to learn with you and walk beside you for a time 

I’m crying quietly so the small one doesn’t wake up in the room next to me 

She’s going to want to sit at my altar with me 

I’m going to hold the sad rock (it’s blue) and the letting go rock (black and white)

When we blow out the candles we say what we’re grateful for 

I’m grateful I knew you 

I wonder who you have changed into I wonder which gardens you plant and rest in now 

She’s been saying she’s grateful for rocks 

I accept all of her the way you accepted all of me 

You were one of the first to teach me that.

Thank you.  

 I thought saying I love you would make being your friend more impossible but that ship has sailed and anyways 

I can’t close my heart that way. I love you. 

I am better for having met you. It was the exact medicine I needed 

I accept our paths and the ways they go away from each other 

Thank you 

The abyss and I are not taking it slow

Posted on by troutpasta

Pain, fear, uncertainty

I accept, the price of being.

I accept.

The way my body sends passenger pigeons,
veins to the heart, synapses crackling

cryptic love
symbolism cellularis

such confusion warnings
such uncanny gifts

she believes in the darkness

she’s taking the portal to tea, she’s
seeing the abyss
on the regular

and it’s

getting

pretty

serious

Posted on by troutpasta

(is it ok that this is going to break me)

Oh baby everything does everything everything everything 

(I don’t WANT. to hurt like that)

So what you’re just never going to love fully? To trust fully? To surrender? 

(Um)

You know the ride..when your heart is open all the way.

Do you accept that portal?  

( I guess I don’t. Not fully. Not yet.)

That’s ok baby 

There’s so much time 

quantum Euphoria

Posted on by troutpasta

dualista   one color from two
paint me forgotten
well-lived,
obsolete

acceptance/rejection
They have their place

Make a study of the ways one turns into
the other

I’m only
curious

alive for the dance
constriction and expansion moving through each other
like ghosts

making eye contact till the fever breaks

delirium as beautiful as the bright shadow we
run from

so sink, sink, sink

past the teacups
and small ones

past the sense-making, through the gate.

Before I met you I was your
housecat

Now she drives my car
and I shit in a box in your bathroom

something moves in your walls

I’ll bring it to you,
alive

(you’re welcome and you’re welcome and you’re
welcome)

shrapnel fur-blood, Santa Claus teeth
and you’ve been so good this year

for Ike

Posted on by troutpasta

I been seeing you in dreams, in dust
first class ticket to the underworld
I spent extra to take us there in style,

baby I stay waiting for you to come back to me

“I’m a runner”
I know baby, I know
I know I know

Get at me when you’re hungry for the infinite sandbox again,
know we said goodnight too early

want time like your body
stretched out
then curled around me
spiraling the here and now through us
like beads on a necklace

I’m close to your throat familiar

I’m not stopping till you’re
begging

halfway there then halfway
there again. Closing the distance between
zero and one

would fistfight God to
feel your breath on my
eyelashes

would knife-fight the
devil to hold
hands with you
in the dark again

our eye-contact
has been poetry
since before I met you

So don’t ask me how time works

I’ve got three
small creatures uncurling
in the forest within me

the only language they know
is your name
whispered at half speed
then half again

drowning love-wash and contagious

I love you enough to plant a garden I water
long after the turnips forget
the way your body tastes

I touch you soft
and awestruck

because I was and am
and will be again

So in love with you.

She calls me late nights.

Posted on by troutpasta

I’m on my knees with
an outstretched arm

(You’re Not Ready Yet)

Was I ready 12 years ago?

(…)
(you’re not ready yet)

oh. maybe I’m not.
I’m scared.
I’m still scared to meet you again
would be hurting myself

(how can anything be outside of love and the Gift?)

They told me it was.

(They? The ones who never could hear the music, the ones
who worship fear, hold him close, tender exaltation)

The ones who say they love me

(Who do they love if they
don’t love all of you?)

Who is loved.

   Amy-The Beloved-

(Are you still her?)

Maybe some of me.

They named me that. They loved she who they named.

(You call yourself now)

I do. New people call me new things. It feels
safe.

(What is safe? What is home?)

The places all of me gets to sit at the table

(Where is that?)

The entire universe. As much of the table I’m willing to take up.

(The table is as yours as you’re
willing to make it be

You were always the one
   deciding
    only some of you
       could eat here)

Not always. Not from young.

Now, yes.

        I agree.