tHE bOTToM LInE!

FUCK:    Meds
        Alcohol
        Cigarettes
        Xanax
And all the other crutches
That hold you (me) up.

I’m about done with them.
But I want them, and I don’t want to let go.
I want to free my mind but
I don’t know if I can do that without those things…

So, fuck it.
I quit trying to quit.

Copyright K. Anne Smith

7-15-2010
3:50 p.m.

When it all began -
Was when there was innocence, and -
We were small
And we were strong
Because we were pure

So now, life has shaped us
And harm has made it’s ways
And our parents’ triumphs
And failures
Have molded our personalities

I thank my father
For showing me what it is
To be selfless
And my mother was the
Example of selfishness
And they still are
And I’ve met in the middle somewhere…


The pictures painted used to be of me
Nowadays, they’re only of what I see
Thank you, experience
For being my best teacher
For reminding me that I can always change
But that no one should change me
For worse
Of course
I can only allow it to happen
Or stop it in it’s tracks

I live in a lost city
But it’s no Atlantis
I live in memory
And avoid the present madness

I give and give away
It’s my realization
That my intentions are good
And the things that I never get back (it’s okay, for today)

Show me your
gratitude
And forget the only child
attitude
And for Christ’s sake - Open up to let someone Love You,
Fucker.


Copyright K. Anne Smith

7-14-2010
2:45 a.m.
 
I watch
And he writhes
With some kind of strange
            Torment
I’m unsure as to why
            Exactly
He is so- oh, so tortured
I can make guesses
And assumptions
And make statements
Followed by questions
But I’m not sure
If he’ll open the door
And allow me further in

Flipping and fighting
Legs constantly twitching
    He is restless
    And so am I
This sensation of pain
That I feel from him
I’d do anything
To make it go away
Sometimes I’ll feel
That I try and
I lose
But I still feel like
        He feels
        That he’s losing more.
It’s then that I realize
The battle of selfishness vs. selflessness
And with a heavy conscious and heart
I try to fight the anxious energy
That I can feel radiate from
Somewhere within him.

I bet…
That HE has one of those lurking, disapproving, ever-present men;
        That sits in the chair…
                In the corner of his mind…
Only HE calls it his anxiety;
                His nervousness.
I see that it cripples his mind
And then cripples him, physically.
I don’t completely understand
                WhY
            He is so tortured; in such a constant state
            Of anguish, of stress and agony…
And I need to know WHY
So that I can attempt to understand
But really -
All I really want is to be able to make it
GO AWAY





Copyright K. Anne Smith

An athem of regret

07-12-2010
11 p.m. or so…

    Drawing in a deep, unsteadied and gaspy breath, I can feel my heart pounding in unison to that very exaggerated breath.
This, is early panic.
But I’ll be okay.
    There is unease in me, or merely just with me, I’m not sure which it is yet. Flooded with thoughts, I now feel that pounding heart is actually just a bleeding heart; one writhing with certain pain. This body has been equipped with a kind soul, soft heart and thick skull. It’s a conflict of interest, at best.
    Daily, I hate something that I do (or don’t). Over time,  I’ve tried to learn and relearn (and sometimes, learn once more) how to offer the best of myself. Try as I might, I fall short of my own expectations. I yell more than I’d like at my kids…I choose sharp words in dealing with them….I think that I hurt their feelings easily but unintentionally by losing my calm, or just never feeling calm.
I say things I don’t really mean; always things that are said out of frustration.
    I disappoint myself; feel greatly let down and anxious when I lose my calm. I begin to feel like a mean and horrible mother. But I do realize that I do more often try my best to be my best.
Personal fail.
    I allow myself to get too tightly wound, at times. I also allow my personal frustrations to overflow into my conscious thinking/doing self. So, in other words; I let things bother me too much, and take it out on the wrong people.

(to be continued, as always…)
 

Copyright K. Anne Smith

7-7-2010
7 p.m. (ish)

Brown and turquoise-
New boys; old boys
I’m never right
But I’m never wrong
I sit and listen
To the flies buzz their song
Know not what to do
How to wrap my head
Around this (gift)
It’s paper thin
And tearing
It is membrane
 paper thin…..

Paper Mill; From www.corbis.com

Copyright K. Anne Smith

(((Lessons, Learned...{{Still Your Fault}})))

 May 8, 2010


Oh, my friend
all things must come to an end
By choice, or circumstance
One day, I'll be your friend again. 


Not good lovers, when you've always been 
hiding under the covers
Scared of something, but I don't know what
I guess it's too late now, 
You've already called my bluff


Not choosing sides, Never take your friends
down with you
No ultimatums; No option in choices
My mind is free, 
and clear
And 
Maybe someday your will be too


Only wishing you the best of all things
to come,
Nothing to be ashamed of now, 
So just put down your gun.
The warmth that it makes 
You'll find for your heart, one day
The pain that it brings, 
One day, you'll put away

Logistically, you'll survive
As long as you tilt your hat to the sun
and you try. 
Prosperity and wealth, I wish you those things
But don't become blinded 
by the ways you have seen in me.

Maybe you'll take this as a lesson;
Maybe you won't  
I hope that your arrogance and 
your ignorance
Don't tie another knot in your rope
With open arms, you were welcomed 
and proved, at first to be fit to stay...

Lonely days
Lonely nights
And Sexless, senseless existance
Had accumulated and 
they all pushed you and I
further away


Don't bang your head
Don't ball your fist;
Don't swing too hard
Aimed to hit the wall 
and missed
A broken hand, 
a busted mind
Oh, your personal hell had begun 
To become mine.


Conflicting souls,
in flame-less fire,
Your wall you were constructing
Broke me free, of desire
Longing, unto despair
turned into nights spent
Not Here.


You were pushing 
and i was moving back
No resistance ,
no resistance in the shell 
I know your resistance --
                          It was displayed so well.
Now, badly I feel
that you were drug along
for all this time
I walked into a dark abyss
And you followed, walking blind.


time to untie you from me
The caged bird sings to be free
Never captive; never - 
I was the only one 
who could please me.


So, my demons are back in the closet
With the skeletons
and the shadows
Because the closet's empty now,
And I have more room for error.


Apologies, cordially
I'm sorry the road led to here.
I knew where it was leading 
And you followed, walking blind
And for that, I didn't shed any tears


Sorry for a lot
And not sorry for much more
You were a ticking time bomb
And I was the wrecking ball...




 

Copyright 2010 K. Anne Smith

Trying To Find a Balance

A new chapter in the book. A chapter of lust, resentment and too much to think about. 
Rent is late. A month overdue. I owe a bunch of money that I don't have...
Was tired of excuses, tired of the game  - waiting - waiting and standing motionless, hoping that something good will happen. Hoping that the sky has cleared and my head will follow suite, soon. 
It's already begun. 
Calmness is starting to seep in. I still find myself treading quietly, being secretive and somewhat sneaky. I suppose, it's my nature. It's in the stars, so I've read anyway. My karmic destiny, perhaps.
Irony was always a topic; subject in writing that dates back to Shakespeare's day. So, I find irony in my own situations as well. I also find that hindsight is the best sight, and it's a shame that this vision isn't available to us, well, to me - until after the fact of everything. 
But still, even then, hindsight serves its purpose. 
It makes it's role evident when we gather up pieces and move along. It's about lessons learned. Hearts being broken. Souls led to be even more mistrusting than they ever were. 
Hindsight, is like white magick overcoming the black, negative energies that seem to try to tug us down. And it will, if you allow it to do so. Prepare for failure, and you will falter, everytime. Hope for success and prosperity, then those little road blocks don't look so big and threatening. 


My heart is set aflutter, some good love and a clean slate have opened my eyes a little more; have showed me where to find light in the darkness.
A connection, a soul-satisfying session of lust and longing, have closed the gap. 
All we ever really want is to be happy in life. Nothing, except our choices will aid in deciding how happy we will be. You must find peace within yourself first before you ever attempt to become one with another being. FAILING to do so only means that you build a wall, and you're the only one behind it.
" If you're gonna build that wall, first, let me in..."
Damaged.
Tattered.
Trashed and scattered.
Malfunction of the mind, 
as it regresses and slips back into remission. 
Like cancer. 
Soul cancer. 

I remain existant on three plains:
1. The spiritual connection
2. the gratitude of  solitude.
3. Mere human existance, or simply - "Just being." 

I wish to take back my power, and I have. I AM a reason, I AM capable of achievement, and I will NOT rest until my mind slows and I have reached goals. 

Money - not accomplished. 

Fame, never wanted it.

Recognition, always needed it...

Peace, well, 

                      I'm still searching for it.  

I have a sexy little friend, 
his chisled shoulders and hard-worked hands
He follows me like a moth to the flame
And he looks me in the eye
And he calls me by my name.
Sir Psycho Sexy, that is he
And I can hold him close,
And pray that he never leaves
And I pray too, that I can maintain
That my soul will rest with his; 
The moth to the flame.
I pray that I don't follow my wicked ways
And that I can change, 
Change, so that I can see the sun
on cloudy days
Straightening out the neurons 
and synapses within my brain
I pray that I can find peace
And I hope for better days.

 


Copyright 2010 K. Anne Smith