The hope of free.

"Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit you wanted-an emotional speed ball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with a hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld  you promptly turn sick, crazy, and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore-- despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have 'that thing' even one more time. Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you're someone he's never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is,you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a pathetic mess,unrecognizable even to your own eyes. So that's it. You have now reached infatuation's final destination-- the complete and merciless devaluation of self." -Liz Gilbert

I know this. This feeling. Ventured through it and around it and so damn near to it that it burned off more layers than intended. The recovery I so needed has, for all seemingly possible purposes, been avoided. Certain the next bend would reveal the promised revelations...to hardly no avail. 
And now I've come across the most beautiful peak one could hope to see in a lifetime....and where am I? There soaking it all in...? Some days, yes. Other days, I am barraged by thoughts of wandering back to view some of the already documented sights. Nay, they all cast me out. And I ran out. The terrain far too wicked for the progressively weakened spirit I claim as my own. Or perhaps it was recognition of future injury from knowledge of self-titled history books. And mistake me not, it is these many memories and knock-downs that aid me in appreciating all that lays before me. Were it not for the fear....the fear....the fear of everything that could mean something, may I only let it. 
Let go. Let go. Jump in.
My legs feel broken. I can still walk but it strains and pains and sometimes takes days and challenges all the many ways that I try to save what I hope I can save. This soul. My very ability. To be. 
In love with loving me. Engaging in solitude as I need be. While realizing I have all I shall and could ever hope to need. Already. Soon the beauty shall begin to flow free.
Soon, soon, soon. It will be.

Bones, Stays, and Outs

It shatters.

It shakes.

Oh how it quakes with heart-aches.

Sometimes it loves so very hard

…between the times it not be in tattered shards.

I do it to me as they did it to me.

I break myself all the more

…to prove that no one could ever love them more.

And who care takes for me…me…the one and the only ME?

Indeed, it can only be ME.

And now THIS time, when I look all I see is me.

Next to he…the fella person with whom I choose to be.

He is now.

He is ever the better than I could never have endeavored.

This reality is laughable for it not be so real.

So very everything I needed to not want.

But I want the very all of it.

The beauty of this gift, ayyy me!

Is this LOVE? Love, love, love, love…?

That I’m feelin’?

Cause I feel it all….feel it all…feel it all.

And I feel it in the bones of my being.

Perhaps I won’t be the one to break this own heart.

Because now, you see, I build me.

And here he be, building right along with me

I build me UP UP up…and away.

… where eagles fly on that mountain high.

I belong.

In the place that is this.

The place that is now.

Holy motha fuckin’ wow.

So “let’s do it,” she says.

“And then we can do THIS,” he says.

FINE.

Fine is he. Fine as the sweetest wine. All the time.

Fine is his heart.

For only could his harness the beast of mine.

This time….

I have given no out. Refused the possible outs.

Here I’ll stay.

Up until the very day

That he can’t and he won’t and he’ll refuse

…the recklessness of this soul.

And then on and on and on I’ll go.

Until then.

This time.

I stay.

Savage, I Am

How could I not have seen it?

Never dreamed I could yet again be IT.

You with me and me with you.

Never again had I imagined I would pursue.

Because if my history spoke of much…

It was that relationships packed a soul shattering punch.

I allowed myself to lose me and never did they choose to see….

How incredibly detrimental their actions and false words could be.

As I rose from the ashes time and again…

I found it was only I who would be my tried and true friend.

Partnerships never were they ever.

This heart and soul repeatedly did I allow them to sever.

And yet, here you are, beautifully real and raw…

Challenging all the hurt that my past ever saw.

Holding my hand as you discover how to hold my heart,

I wish it could have been YOU to love me from the very start.

But a lesson is a lesson no matter the damage…

And I refuse to believe myself some love-incapable savage.

Each day you teach the ways of faith and truly being together.

Contented am I here and now…maybe, just maybe...even for forever.  

She

When looking upon them I do believe to see…

What they hoped their message could or should be.

“Let us SAVE you....HELP you…ENLIGHTEN you!!” echo their screams.

Save for that not be all a patient may hear, it seems.

These adamant protesters… OH how they yell and holler and threaten and scare.

To me it feels so awfully sickening and wholly unfair.

“You take a life and sell your soul,” they say.

Or questions of: “How can you be so cold on THIS day?”

And these women, you see, do as they must.

For it is THIS or bust.

A decision not often made with ease, nor clear cut.

Thoughtless it is anything but.

Those whom protest think or pretend or even hope to know…

What they could never fully ever, ever know.

To be a WOMAN, that WOMAN, who is without support. Without a future to give...

Nor the funds to most basically live.

Each one different as they are the same…

I shall not ever name them by name.

For I am Alejandra, the protector.

Matter does it not your creed, ability, nor social sector.

Forever shall I ever…

Fight this fight for something better.

As a woman, an advocate, a friend, and a believer...

I could never help but always see her.

For she is me and I am she.

And I ask thee, with all the heart vested in me, with hopes for what our society could be...IS an abortion all she will ever be?

The Torment of the Lioness

Some of the times I find myself pondering who I am. WHO am I? What....how...when...where...why?? To existence! To fruition! To consciousness! To...me!!

I AM Alejandra. The Great! The Challenger! The protester!

Always wanting and demanding and craving more and more....AND more still. 

Convinced of roaming the plains and forests and jungles of this world as alone is alone is alone. Because I will NOT settle, refuuuuuse to settle for anything that is NOT peace, NOT right as thy rain on thy ground and on thine face, and NOT....me. 

I am loving me as much as could hope to love me. And I love thee as much as I allow myself to love me. And the fear is that I do not and could not....even for all the stars and promises and beautiful words. Not love you. 

Until I adore me

all the more I shall ever see

is what could never be.

The neverending quest. This quest.

I guess it will be as it will be. 

Without you and without me....as anything other than exactly who and what I must and shall ever be:

beautifully, wonderfully, perfectly imperfect....me. 

The Polka Dots from Her Hair

No.....you don't see me.
Nay me.
Never me.
Nor did I ever see me.

Did I not always exist?
Not to me. Nay.
And alas, day by dying day
the answer, it seems, surely becomes....Yay.


'tis given in the way I hope receive it.
Give it to get it.
To get it.
It.

The here.....the now....the...."everything"
Drives it 'round and 'round.
Cause here I am: one with the town.
Becoming one with the ground.

To you I come down.
Dance me. Romance me. Shake the pants off me.
I've been yours as you'll be mine.
Discover that Yay....be thy same as Nay.

Ever

"I just wanna... 
Show you how much I appreciate you.
Wanna show you how much I'm dedicated to you.
Wanna show you how much I will forever be true.
Wanna show you how much you got your girl feelin' good.
Wanna show you how much, how much you're understood.
Wanna show you how much, I value what you say.
Not only are you loyal, you're patient with me babe.
Wanna show you how much, I really care about your heart.
I wanna show ya how much, I hate being apart.
Show ya, show ya, show ya til you're through with me.
I wanna keep it how it is, so you can never say how it used to be"
-B, "Dance For You"


How it used to be.
YOU...are nothing like it used to be.
For YOU are nothing that I'm used to.
Nothing like that which I'd normalized as normal.
Each previous moment is challenged by the next.
I sit in awe of the simplicity. 
Of you. Of me. Of you and me....in this....together.
Here we are.
Together.
Until whenever. 
I can't think of much else that is better.
Ho-rah!