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Link: Claiming Casualties

Claiming Casualties

The thing with poems is that I usually just take random fragments and string them together. I think about the placement of the words and the meaning they give each line but that’s about it. I don’t look for deeper meaning. I think about a general theme or emotion I want the final piece to evoke but ultimately I don’t write towards it until I have lines I can move around to create it.

This one started out as lyrics from a song then to words from old fics I saved for later I ended up deleting the list of them because they were awful and words that came to me as I did chores. It’s a method I’ve come to appreciate since it allows me to think of other things besides the poem. The idea is I let the words or phrases stand out on their own from the daily influx of language I get on a daily basis.

It also mimics the way I naturally am. I don’t know how long I’ve been doing it but it’s only recently that I’ve come to accept it as a daily routine of mine whenever I’m listening to music or with other people. I’ll focus on certain things they say and repeat them in my head, over and over again. It might be a coping mechanism for my anxiety, idk.

When I was younger I’d trace the word on whatever surface was available, mostly it was my thigh. I’ve stopped the tracing but I haven’t stopped repeating words. It can make conversation difficult, especially when I suddenly forget the phrase and I end up ignoring people as I try to remember it.


Become the Hands

A rejected submission I’ve decided belongs here.

I know we are made of stardust. There is evidence which tells us that the iron in our blood and calcium in our bones came from explosions in the spacious void. There is the hydrogen in the water that floats through our systems and the carbon in our very genes. Stars rose and fell for our bodies.

While my body might be the product of stars my mind is not.

It is made of echoes of the past. The touch of cold aluminum as Mamá wrapped it around my abdomen to help the stomach ache I had. The scent of citrus I’ve come to associate with the green prior to autumn. The hot tears that leaked from my eyes as I stood holding a book above my head in a corner.

My mind is not stardust. My mind is a cramped room. Read the rest of this entry

there were words trapped inside me

I thought a lot about whether I should post this or not. I always have been a private person but there are parts of me that can no longer be private if I expect to get better. I won’t go into it too much but I’ve suffered from depression for as long as I can remember. Anxiety has just been a recent addition but I think it’s been a long time coming given the circumstances.

I’m living in an abusive household and before you tell me I should just leave, let me tell you that I’d love to. However I am currently unemployed and my anxiety and depression have made it hard for me to find a job. I’ve sent out applications, I’ve had a couple of interviews and every time I’m told I’m not what they’re looking for it gets a little harder to keep looking. My self-worth has suffered a little each time and I’ve gotten used to feeling tired so please, please don’t comment on this post or send me a message telling me it’s going to get better. I am sick of hearing that bullshit from people who don’t get it. I don’t want to hear that shit. If you haven’t suffered from any mental illnesses, if you’re completely typical in every way I don’t want to hear from you.

I have to deal with people like you all the fucking time and I am not in the mood to deal with it on a post like this.

So now that I’ve gotten most of that out of the way, I wrote this a little after I had a bit of a breakdown while writing a letter to a penpal. The letter will never be sent to them seeing as how I still stand by the idea of the letter that they deserve more than my self-depreciation. I had a nice long cry and somehow found myself reaching for a pen to write this down. I don’t know what it is. It could be a prose-poem, it could be simply prose. I’m not going to post this to my writing website so it goes here. Far from my regular readers on LJ but close enough that at the very least it isn’t completely private.

Read the rest of this entry


Finally posts appear from this year! Soon I’ll be all caught up and crossposting will happen at the same time.

Work on the fiction site is almost done. Some of the posts originally on Blogger will be set to private and the Blogger site will completely go to private. I know I have a random audience over on Blogger who never speaks to me (I can see you through the stats!) so hopefully the move won’t be too drastic for them.