Slash My Wrists; Wisdom

I escaped.  No, I unraveled. No, I am undone.

They say re-create your world. Who are these “theys” and where did they get their credentials for such wisdom? An indescribable painting filled with black.  The colors combined.  Black.  Its all black.  Erase what was to re-program the mind to become what it was made to be.  Black is elegant, it is the great mystery.  Black reveals the vastness of what is right in this world.  Black is beautiful. Brightness is inside the body.  It carries through an array of vocal cords.  The human hum. The place of love is on your tongue.  Marks of love are written in black.

I never knew what it was like to be loved by a man.  I imagine there is no blueprint.  I know the blueprint to not follow.  I know every dead end.  I have learned the flags that ring red.  I know what isn’t lovely.  I cannot dismiss what I know.  I have no map for what is right. 

She said, “God wants to heal that piece of you so you may one day relate to a man and fall in love.  It has always been one-sided for you.  God wants to heal that.  A mutual loving relationship.  It will just happen.  Don’t take it.  Don’t try.  Watch it fall.”

A friend said, “Isn’t that what life is all about?  We act like it isn’t but to find that person, to mate, to live, to die.  We all want a family.  All of us.  Deny it if you want.”

She said, “Give all of your neediness to him to God.  Give it all to him.  You don’t need a man.  That’s not true.  You do but you can live without one.  Those things that are incomplete can only be made complete through him by his spirit.”  

I looked into a man’s eyes.  He had desire.  I did too. I didn’t give in because truth struck me. After all this time I saw myself.  My intention:

“You can’t give me what I want because no man can.” I want the thing that never was and never will be.  I want that time of purity when you are loved merely for being a child. I want the stain of shame to remove itself from my body.  I want it to never have happened at all!  I want to have all of the shame squeezed from my soul as the juicer meets the orange.  I want what is too late.  I will never see that care on this side.  Grieve.  Grieve.”  

“Scream to the sky! Howl at the moon! Beat the ground stomp stomp stomp with your shoes!  Scream to the God that never seemed to care, but he was there.  The only question greater than “Who am I,” is “Why?”

The forgiveness to God as if he needs to be forgiven.  God I forgive you.  I forgive you! I forgive you! I thank you with clenched teeth. For you had a plan for Joseph!  You had a plan for Esther but God but God but…Why?  Grieve and know this is not how it was supposed to be.

Grieve and remember this is what its like to be human.
Grieve you don’t need this anymore.
Let it go.
Grab hold of what is here now in front of you.
Places of weakness.
Pick it up!
“What do we have left?”
We have everything!
The masterpiece maker!
I don’t have instructions.
I need a teacher.
God give me a teacher?
Am I wrong about this?
I know my value I know I have much to teach too!
I give this
All I know for sure is
I love the shape that has been formed from the slashes in my wrists.
I wouldn’t have me any other way.

What do I know?

I know:

To be taunted until you wish you were dead, to be unwanted, dismissed, to be accused accused accused of what wasn’t true by the ones I loved.  To sit up all night for fear of what might come, to be taken from joy to death in the lightening strike.  I waited for the lightening to strike.  I waited I waited for it to come in the night.  Never slept, never take a breath, for when the lightening strikes your death is living and your living hell. 

I cried for them as learned helplessness took the crown of glory shoveled in shit:

Nearly all that I love fall fall fall and never get up! She decided to do the meth. She cooked it.  Run away from the ones who harm you and find yourself in another prison. He wanted the drugs.  She said no to college.  He sits with his hardened heart.  She married the alcoholic.  Him, the child molester babysits three little girls while my words of warning go unheard.  I might as well have not ever existed!!! My words didn’t matter!  I could save no one.  “Honey don’t touch the gun!  Never touch the gun!  Ever.  Don’t touch that gun!” I couldn’t save everyone but they listened. They never touched it.  Titanic sinks.  You save yourself? But I was made to love others. I was made for that.  I thought I was.  I took their weight as my own and I died.  I died. I died.  I died because I loved them.  I died because I love them still and I wish with all my heart that they had chosen another way.  I’m dead.  

I revive myself.  Life is the great invitation not everyone wants to go to the dance or they do but they won’t come.  Life is the great invitation.  I want to dance! God let me dance!

I sat with old women.
I listened to their lessons of regret.  All of them.  They are all inside of me.  All of their regrets.  I ate every word. I’m sick with their regrets but I am grateful.
Promised lies.
Secrets.  Secrets run through my fingertips.  Electricity.  The electricity.  My stories their stories.
I’ll never tell you their names.
I’ll tell you their stories.  Some of them.
I’ll never tell you their names.

She told him what she loved most about me was how simple I was.  She said in Spanish, “I love Grace because she eats with her hands just like me.”

The thing that he hated most about me, she loved. She loved the thing he hated most.  She loved the thing he hated most.  She loved me.

I miss Georgina.  I miss her kids.  I miss her trailer.  I miss her tortillas.  I miss her hugs. 

All she ever wanted was a house.  The one thing she will never get. 

I’d give it to her. 

I promise you. 

I’d give her a house because I love her and love can look like that.  No strings attached.

Me, no I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I am me.
I wish he had loved me back.
No, I hope I won’t entrap myself in unrequited love again.
I won’t get trapped in forcing the invitation to life.
My lungs dismiss the smoke.  Give me breath.
I want water.
God help me drink.
Me, no I wouldn’t have me any other way.

She said,

Me encanta la forma en que come con sus manos como yo.

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