My thoughts are a jumbled mess of confusion (yours, his, hers & mine) scrying for something to hold onto long enough to make sense of the anchors and foundations we’ve both forged from pain, which now threaten to cave in. There is nothing I can do but watch. You are the man. My dreams and cracked beams are giving way to violence — detachment and oblivion. Nothing will be left but a fully loaded house of teetering cards.
All I feel is loss.
The aftermath will have me face to face with Charon. He sits upon my chest now, opening up my third eye bidding me to say goodbye one last time. My soul declines, offering suffering in silence, compassion finding release in a steady stream and I overflow. My ears make wells to muffle his bargain but I belong to no one, not even him. I am a lost cause.
If I accept, demons could still tear me apart, dismember my appendages piece by bloody piece before sewing me back together skew-whiff, over and over again until I am utterly insane. Therein lies the abyss. The place that makes my life a living hell and all my heart aches for, is to love and be loved.
But all I feel is sadness.
Abandonment caves in my ribcage too. It digs in like a tick underneath my lungs and sucks every last drop of fluid left from my life. I am wrung out and strung out, so I waste no time in knocking myself out just to get lost — I wander in the ether to find her again and bring her back home but there is always a catch.
Twenty two foregone conclusions reek of tyranny. You can’t save me! I was lost before you found me and I don’t belong to you or them or here or anywhere and it will always be like this! I don’t want to believe in angels! I don’t want to believe in demons! I don’t want to live in this place!
There is another outburst of pain.
I seek comfort in my magic, my wand set to low creates slow circles that mimick your gentle touch. I feel pleasure for the first time since I last felt your gaze reach in to pull me out and into your Temple. You try to worship my foreign body, send ripples ricocheting between our vibrations but we have failed to find synchrony. In my delirium, I think I must have died.
Killing me softly like that song, trying not to harm me, trying not to lie — letting me fall to see if I come back stronger. I know what you’re doing; giving me facts to face my fears so you don’t have to wear a mask.
Sinking me down further, bit by bite.
You watch me wrestle with Psyche, see the squalls before they arrive, the rogue waves looming on the horizon and try to navigate the shit storm that is my life or so I imagine her lot,
Forecast’s based upon trust, an old school remedy tried and tested over centuries of trial and error, almost on the doorstep of my abandonment. I have to want to choose my life over my life, play with fire or die in vain — seek some sort of comfort hold that pulls me close (safe), that doesn’t strangle me in my sleep.
Comes as no surprise then. Her return from the underworld fraught with danger, shed the All, her only hope of salvation and ascension coming to light; Zeus rumbling his desires expects nothing less than a fathers love in return.
I think I am forsaken.
You think I am like Poppy, offer me a chance to be apart of a real family, show me another way to heal, to find warmth and trust that I am genuinely loved where I can thrive, in time. Something I have too much of and not enough to squander.
I want to give it all away.
My job, my friend, my life in exchange for something worth fighting for, yet I am bereft, devoid and damaged beyond repair and you cannot reach me. I need more time to get over you.
Another, will begin another end
to wear me down to char. Somehow my destiny taunts me, forces me to watch and become nothing but a burdon I still have to carry when I can no longer fight and I don’t have what it takes to push through, for you.
Trust no one.
Bravery has always been a strong fulcrum point, an internal compass that leaps toward faith, a little too close for comfort in the end. My judgement will come as swiftly as Hera came forward to claim what was rightfully hers, tearing out her own heart for the sake of her enemies!
You don’t want me.
My demons are telling me I have to die a bit more in order to live but it still hurts to say goodbye. Either way, I am lost right now and there’s nothing anyone can do. You’re all in for a hell ride while I deconstruct and I make no guarantees that I will survive intact this time.
My head is trying to cling to straws while my heart is breaking and I have no where left to go, except home. The secret to survival is balancing hope and despair. I am doing my best and I am so tired.
Guflydktskyl vg j jkhlhc. Khhc khckhc. Uclhfflh. Yxjrekh. Kyeekgxkyggl. It all makes no sense to me. Just empty words in hollow spaces
“Persephone never quite forgave injustice, but she did learn to shed her skin” JD Butler
You came over larger than life, in all your big beautiful buxom-ness,
I got you naked.
My legs wrapping themselves around you like spider star’s, our flambuoyant embraces creating seismic ripples in our milky way.
When you weren’t whingeing about the cold – manifesting uncontrollable shivers & shakes, I watched your face smile like iridescent plankton sparkling in the moonlight; the ebb & flow of your once moored reserve.
You let it all hang out under cover of darkness, except for artificial red lights intermittently flashing, innocent for all of it’s risquè innuendos but oh so enlightening!
I don’t presume to know you intimately, although you remind me of Persephone – Hades having honed her fury, tempering Demeter’s mournful wrath all thanks to Hercate.
My third eye dived into your psyche, recognising myself in your reflection. Tidal waves of emotion crashed through and over, till I could see and you could see me.
Persephone never quite forgave injustice, but she did learn how to shed her skin & find rebirth in the spring,
how you were when we fell over each other’s Cheshire licking the crème de la crème from our fingertips, trusting hoards of butterfly antennae, sensing under the sheets or up against the wall or door, searching for foothold’s to keep us steady, while the world burned.
I miss you
your delirious smile smoldering stare held me for ransom, taking what was mine in reckless abandonment left, existentially speaking our hemispheres to render unnecessary for nothing else mattered. you were my light my world burned for you – you set me on fire.
I miss you
everyday my heart breaks, shattering into shards splintered like thorns penetrating my psyche, where our wedding Rose once bloomed I sink further than ever green roots searching for a wellspring and I long to love you, remembering ourselves ecstatic.
I miss you
it hurts too much to open my self up, invite you in like Twilight wondering if demons have you ensnared, tortured reasons where I cease to exist beyond anything pale. I loved you so, adoring everything I love I can’t help but feel lost without you wanting to take another leap and plunge, but it’s too late
my heart tricked me to remind me love died.
Copyright 2016, Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved
The Joker plays his cards then prays for forgiveness to a middle eastern Christian God before hurling abuse to those who aren’t white professing to love women secretly harbouring unfathomable hate suppressed rage staring Red indifference in the face of reason, his reason an excuse for payback; vindictive retribution designed to maximize powerfully charged emotional punches.
I have loved more than once choosing my heart over head batting eyelids deflecting eggs scrambling to make sense of the impossible scenario time after time questioning my self refusing to settle for anything less than truth watching loved ones turn roll over, pulling the wool over already unseeing orbs holding on to contempt for love lost
Death has defined me grief ripping me apart till I am stripped bare and ‘The Joker’ plays me for a fool his denial hardly concealed now his truth defining him in the end hidden underneath a facade charm dangerously like a predators false sense of security when his hands are tied his dirty hands he tries to launder abrasive repeatedly.
Money the root of all evil threatens to ignite the paper trails that have us entwined enmeshed together by banks loans and fine print our future only leased the balance drains the half full cup sentiment caught never to be released that Holy Grail proving to be forever out of reach what chance did we have? the die has been cast.
My love my darling you were my everything my beautiful sweet illusion my heart aches for remembering you how you were before you changed colour I fell head over feet for you and yours grazing my knee in the process I succumbed, numbing my defenses getting back up being pushed back down losing another fragment of hope each time threatening don’t now, the joke is on you.
so it seems, three and a half years
of Hell with nothing left
to show for it,
watching love leach
from my soul; phosphorescent,
sparks like spheres
float up, up and away
to fizzle out in to nothingness
Since when did I become the enemy?
clumped into the annuls of misogyny
tarred / scarred
for being a woman empowered
because I threaten the old ways
where women were barefoot
swathed in floral aprons
with floured hands kneading
wholesome Madonna complexes
designed to subdue
depth and passion
moving my heart to where I am
mesmerized in awe; my fragile smile
let loose like an arrow
straight and true into you
and I, jubilant
where I am left wondering
where you have been
all my life – that I would do anything
I love my self more
and I am not broken completely.
I can take those looks of contempt
along with those cutting words
and stand my ground against interrogation/subjugation
I lead myself in cycles, navigating
my way out of ear shot for a while
till I can stand it no more,
when I hide away inside
and stuff my fingers
All is not lost
despite my sense of guilt at not being
strong enough in your eyes,
un-like grandma whom you adored,
I am merely a shade by comparison
if I subscribed to your anger and hurt
if I took her on and became
a better person, wife, mother for you
if only I chose to keep my mouth shut
like she learned in the war
I don’t believe
staying silent will keep us alive these days
my life requires I fight
for truth, freedom, rights and for love
so you may find your self, lifted from those ashes – Dachau,
and understand that women need
tenderness, a kindness that takes away
the hurt of injustices, finding safety
your arms filling me with hope
that I am not alone
It is with great sadness
that I must choose love
letting go the innocence of youth
and embrace my own mortality
if I am to be a survivor
I cannot condone atrocities
of any kind and turn a blind eye
without losing that part of myself
that wanted to die, finding respect
in being true to myself
Lest We Forget
I am mourning
a life of trials and tribulations
that had me in tears for the most part
my heart is broken, I no longer believe
in you, us – I am setting fire to the 3rd mar
closing my eyelids on my dreams
facing those feelings that I have been too afraid to feel
reaching in to pull them out
into the open and lay myself bare
so I can finally heal