Month: November 2015


Impossible to put into words both the profound sadness I feel and the realization that I am on the precipice of the greatest thing that has ever happened to me….I am a paradox, wrapped in a riddle, filled both with an emotional void and ever present sentiment….~CPage


And she was wild in every way.

It left her breathless…

every sunset, every flower, every tree expanding it’s branches toward the sky articulated her.

She wanted to be absorbed by the earth, lay down in it’s grasses and feel the soil soak her up.

She listened as the wind left poetry in her hair…

She poured her soul into the living surrounding things and willed her fingertips to answer back to the ground as she passed her hands over tiny insects.

She was wild.

She was madness.

despising these structures and constructed cages that wished to incorporate her into corporate ideals

Her essence was the sea, the mountains, the valleys and the deserts.

She was a mustang, a wolf, a lion, a shark…hungry, powerful, graceful and free.

Tethered only by companionship and a desire to roam.

She was madness.

She was wild.

She was me.

Just passing through

I knew the moment my heart stopped believing all the positivity I was feeding it. It was yesterday. It fell like a brick. The mortar hadn’t even finished drying. I wish I could say I was numb, but the pain flows like a river that I wish I could leave in razors in the bathtub, but I can’t and I won’t. But I wish.

I feel like if I could drain the pain from my heart it would help me get through this moment and the only way I feel to achieve that would be to leave my grief slipping down the septic system, because it seems an appropriate end and punctuates exactly how I feel. Septic. Toxic. A molecular nightmare. An emotional void deserving of no fanfare, just swallowed by the earth…but the earth won’t even have me…and that is my truth today.

I cleaned my house just in case, wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m a slob, although the past month that is exactly what I have become, in the confines of my home.  Couldn’t even do the dishes, so I threw them out. Easier to discard the things around me than to piece them back together and put them in useful places. Even when I write I know how devoid of hope I sound. I know it and I write anyway. Part of me feels a sense of responsibility to others writing words so dark, but that’s what got me into this mess to begin with. My empathic nature wanting to save the world one troubled soul at a time, allowing those souls to take pieces of me along the way, until yesterday…when my soul realized, we were alone.



Not in common thought, not in the traditional since. I have family and friends. But alone in my head with my thoughts and my suffering. I learned yesterday my demons aren’t worth fighting for, that my humanity, what makes me imperfectly perfect was not as valid as another’s. My broken isn’t worth the investment to understand. I stare at this cursor and it’s truth and I pray for the understanding of those closest to me.

Sometimes the heart, the mind can only take so much before it realizes that hope is an illusion for those in denial…and I am no longer in denial. I am just passing through.