megthompsonblog

the broken pieces

meg thompson

THANKYOU

Chris

Maisie Belle

Natasha

Kateypooh

Brittney

Ashley

My Awesome Therapist Danielle

KyKy

Rachyyyyyy

Courtney

Stephen King

Edgar Allan Poe

“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out.

But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away.

And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it.

That’s the worst, I think.

When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”

-Stephen King

Angel Eyes

You laugh with me as we sit and talk about our days.

Your eyes, blue as the ocean;

Your smile melts me away;

My laughter uncontrollable, deeply falling in your love.

You’re the first one I’ve loved that makes me feel comedic;

As strange as that sounds, it’s the best feeling.

You look at me with your angel blue eyes.

I’m in the kitchen and I’m cooking dinner.

Laughter and excitement from my favorite little voice;

Echoes from the kitchen, as I’m throwing pieces of bread, cheese and meat; putting it all together as I hear,

Both of you laughing, leading into a conversation about nature.

You come into the kitchen to see how I’m doing;

Wrap me in your love;

You hug me as I’m finishing up;

I turn around and you look at me with your

Angel Eyes.

You wrap your hands around me;

Being yours, feels euphoric.

Little stars twinkle;

In the sky;

Little moments;

They always pass;

So I hold them tight;

Bedtime stories, tucked in;

Goodnight sweet dream, little one.

Side-by-side, pillow talk;

Your voice comforts me,

As an adult animation plays in the background;

You tell me sweet nothings

They echo through me, vibrating throughout;

My body, my  heart full

“You’re the best wife in the world” You say.

As you fade away, I kiss your face.

Dreams enter as you close your angel eyes.

The Rebel (Eldest Daughter)

Little me, out of place.

The world looked big.

I searched for your love everywhere,

It was nowhere to be found.

Critical, cutting me with words.

Maybe if I sing in front of this church, maybe you’ll be proud.

Maybe you’ll find a way to love me.

Maybe you’ll stop resenting me, if I just listened.

This religion isn’t for me, I keep trying to fit the pieces;

But it’s mismatched, the puzzle pieces don’t fit.

This doesn’t inside of me, but maybe if it did;

You could love me.

At fifteen, I stopped chasing your love,

I looked everywhere else, but every road led to heartbreak.

Everytime I thought I had found my knight, he had every trait you did.

Cold, and I’m begging for physical affection, the lengths I’d go just to feel the love I was missing.

My twenties were spent searching for your love in others.

Leading to coldness and abuse, but when you don’t love yourself

You’ll do anything to make someone stay.

As long as they are hugging you, you feel like the rest doesn’t matter

Because you’re hugged and held.

You forget to love yourself.

My thirties burst through the door, and everyone is telling me how to be a mom.

I give her so many hugs and unconditional love.

Everyone is telling me I’m wrong, everyone has an opinion.

Nothing ever feels right, until the day he walked in and everything changed;

I felt loved.

Little Dove

Little dove,

Did you know I loved you so?

The vines grew around us, tangled in competition;

As our little voices grew.

But you were still my little dove.

Little Dove,

We hang out in my room and we gossip.

I feel euphoric when you’re around.

You make me laugh and I tell you everything.

A bond unbreakable, a bond that completes me.

Little Dove,

When did you change?

When did our secrets become transactional?

Was my love not enough?

You’ll always be my little dove.

THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS

There is a spot hidden in the woods, and

I go there when the world gets too loud.

The pine cones crackle under my feet,

The wind blows around me;

The dark browns and the greens.

Nightfall hits, and the fear creeps in.

I start to hear branches cracking;

Like the sound of bones, there she is.

She stares at me, she has a black robe with a hood.

She slowly tilts her head, she gives me a wide smile,

Tooth by tooth crumbles from her gums.

“Let me in.” She whispers.

My eyes locked on hers, her long gray thick hair covering her face;

Her eyes, flipping from all black to all white.

I step back, she moves forward.

My heart feels as if it’s going to fall out of my chest.

I can’t breathe.

She reaches her arm out and motions it to the tree.

Her tilted head, and smile as her stance frozen.

My arms and legs stuck against the wood.

The vines wrap around me.

Tightly, so tight around me.

Screams fly out of my mouth, as I start to choke.

Black goo comes pouring out from my mouth.

White creatures surround her, as I pass out.

They crawl inside my mouth and run down into my chest;

Floating around in my stomach, as I’m screaming.

Nothing comes out, as my mouth is wide open.

I can’t move, I’m in a hospital bed.

The nurses are wearing old uniforms, and carrying around needles.

“Ready for your medication?” A nurse walks in asking.

I glance at her tray of needles, as it transforms into a pool of blood.

The woman in the hood, eyes black.

Moving closer and closer to me.

I can’t keep her away.

She’s coming closer and closer.

Glitches, and shadows.

The quiet surrounds me.

She touches my hand.

“LET ME IN.”

She scolds and begs.

She hits, and screams.

I let her in.

I’M STANDING IN THE WOODS WEARING A BLACK ROBE AND A HOOD.

Sippin

Sippin tea in the sunlight, as the seasons have changed.

Trees all around us, as the leaves fall down.

The wind touches my face as you talk about my smile.

The times have changed and so has my mind.

How did I end up in paradise?

I jump up, I’m laughing and giggling with you.

How did I get here?

So safe and close to you;

Bouncing ideas off of each other, smiling  like the sunlight won’t ever fade, like the next day won’t come and it always does,

But I am here in the sunlight with you, sippin a glass of tea.

FIST THROUGH THE WALL

Your rage seeps through.

The vodka on your breath.

Our baby is two years old, and I protect her from you.

I hold her close.

While you scream and punch and slam doors.

Locking ourselves in another room, while you try to break it down.

Somehow it’s my fault again.

De-escalation turns into escalation.

Rinse and repeat.

“That’s in the past.”

No accountability.

I give you what you crave.

I even sometimes go get it for you, anyway.

The things you’ve done, the assault I never spoke on.

The blackouts.

The time you tried to murder me.

So many scenario’s, my mind tries to hide them from me.

You don’t remember or care.

I bring them up, you shove them down.

Do you remember the canoe trip?

I spent half the time hyperventilating,

While you made fun of me.

The one time you stomped on me,

I texted my mom, but she refused to come get me.

“You always go back.” She said.

I’m hot, then I’m cold.

I’m in; then I’m out with you.

Everytime I leave,

I come crawling back.

Everytime I say i’m done;

You threaten and that’s how it goes.

I always come back to you.

As i look around the room, as my poster covers

A hole.

YOUR FIST THROUGH THE WALL.

January Blues

The winter blues kick in when the sun fades,

And it gets really cloudy.

The grey days are the most beautiful in my mind.

But every time the sunshine fades;

I get the January Blues.

January

Blues,

Hit the hardest when the snow falls.

The ground is completely covered, and

My boots are on and I have the wind brushing me;

To the point my feet are coming up off the ground.

I can’t hold myself down

between

The snow and they grey.

The gloom comes in, with the guilt;

And the doubt.

The shame spiral creeps in;

And I wonder “was everything my fault”

“Do people actually love me?”

No matter how many times,

They say that they do, everything is louder than them.

The sweet words they say, the noise in my head is a thunderstorm.

“What did you say again? Can you say that again?”

“Do you love me?”

“Do you need me?”

“Can you breathe without me?”

The simple truths, the context clues

Telling me what’s true, all the computer error codes;

The mixed calculations inside my mind.

The symphony plays pain and I give in like the masochist I am.

I go back in, I let myself go back.

I forget where I am.

I disappear and somehow I’m back there.

Falling back  into the trauma, come back to reality.

Come back to love.

I disappear inside myself, a black room hidden inside my mind.

I bang on the walls but I can’t get out.

The memories eat me alive.

I lay on the floor, the coldness hitting  my neck and back.

I use somatic exercises to control my heart rate.

I tense my body hard, then I relax it.

I’m home, I’m home.

I’m safe, I’m here.

The January Blues have a hold on me.

The months change, and it gets warmer.

I go outside; I enjoy the weather.

The January Blues can’t catch up with me here.

The Reaper

You told me you saw the reaper.

He would follow you around;

Up and down the hallway.

Was it guilt you were feeling?

Did you regret how things went?

The nights filled with vodka;

The respect that never existed.

Kindness was all it would’ve taken.

I moved on and you stayed stuck in time.

You told me things I would remember forever.

You wanted to bury me in the woods.

I watched you wither and decay.

Voicemails left on how you wanted me to choke on a chicken bone;

And die.

At the time I laughed, because what else are you supposed to do, thirty-five missed calls.

Trying to co-parent when it’s always a fight.

So much chaos around me.

When the pipes froze, you passed away, you died.

The reaper got to you.

You saw him coming.

You had so much fear.

You put so much fear into me.

I cried for three days and that was that.

THE VOICE

I sleep at night just fine.

When I wake up, you’re the first thought that enters my mind.

It spirals into something I don’t recognize.

I try my hardest to fall back into my dreams.

The voice gets so loud, it overtakes me.

The voice is so hurt.

The voice is broken.

The voice is lost.

It’s so loud in here.

I just need it to be quiet.

It’s louder than the television.

So I get up.

The voice quiets down and I start my day.

the ViNes

little tiny vines wrap around my feet.

My toes.

My knees.

My stomach.

My arms.

little vines wrap around my thighs;

lift me off of the ground and into the sky.

the flowers start to BLOOM.

I’m spun around, my body lay flat.

I float down,

In between the grass and the dirt.

As you travel down below;

Into a place called Flair-Munurth.

Flair-Munurth is the land between the dirt and reflection.

The stars floating where you walk.

The grass in the sky.

What you see,

That’s the mirror.

I crawl into the tunnel between the dirt and the sky.

It led me to Flair-Munurth.

A place of Pixelmoth’s.

Pixelmoth’s remind people of fairies.

The colors, but angelic.

They laugh bubbles, the angels they are.

They have wings that sparkle.

They look exactly like the wings of moths, the shapes and sometimes the color, depending.

Human looking, but super tiny.

You could carry, in your palm.

Pixelmoth’s turn;

Every negative, they will turn into a positive.

Pinks and sparkly greens everywhere.

Little houses with sparkles all over.

Butterflies have wings of candy, and ants are peppermint sticks that dance.

Pixelmoth’s filled you with euphoria and happiness.

Every piece of hurt or trauma; they would take their tiny little fingers

And touch your chest;

As this white floating goo floats from your body,

And they melt it away;

All the suffering,

All the pain.

The healing powers they had;

Would melt away a person’s pain;

And because Pixelmoth’s  hate suffering;

And hate pain;

They never cause it;

So the person always wants to stay.

To stay in a land of happiness, a land

with no pain.

It would make any person never want to leave.

Then it happened; out of nowhere.

The vines ripped me back.

This time dragging me through the dirt.

Hitting me with sharpness and heavy weight;

Whiplash, whiplash

Particles of me floating through the stars…

Through the dark.

White particles floating, floating.

I landed not too long after that.

My body intact.

The vines tightened as i land into the dirt;

Ripping into my skin;

Creating wounds all over my legs, my abdomen,

Opening up holes, and breaking skin.

Blood seeping out of me, falling into the dirt;

Soaking  into the vines.

It sucks me dry.

I lay there lifeless, but I remember the Pixelmoths.

Maisie

Eyes the color of a doe.

Beautiful from head to toe.

My Belle is a work of art.

An illustrator, and a painter.

Drawing and crafting, her favorite pastime.

Our little moments and our adventures, to family nights

Of wrestling.

Your heart is so big, beautiful and kind.

You’re never afraid to say what’s on your mind.

I love every conversation we have whether it’s about mushrooms or nature, sharks or volcanos.

I love how you’ve overcome your fear of ants.

You’ve grown so much.

You’ve dealt with unkindness.

You’ve grown and have learned so much along the way.

Every day with you is a beautiful adventure.

You’re my favorite gamer, my little artist, my girl who loves country music, and my favorite pizza girl.

I love the way you’re teaching me Mandarin and Japanese.

Nine years old, my babygirl.

I love you my Maisie Belle.

Lighthouse

When the darkness consumes all the light,

I’ll be the lighthouse that guides your ship through the night.

If you ever feel lost adrift at sea, look around;

I’m here search for me.

When life gets too hard and is swallowing you whole,

I will be your lighthouse.

I will be the light that guides you home.

If the darkness is all you can take.

I’ll move the lighthouse into your darkness.

I’ll grab your hand, and we’ll run through the night.

Until you’re able to open your eyes and see my light.

When the waves are too high and the water creeps in,

Rocking your boat, lost at sea.

Search for me.

Listen to my voice and you will find me.

Look for your lighthouse by the beach.

The lights are on and inside there’s a library.

A home made with blankets and warmth.

Candles and lanterns.

A little warm fire.

A hot cup of tea.

Love,

The lighthouse by the beach.

The Baseball Boy

He played baseball every Sunday, with the youth group.

Everytime he played he would hit a home run.

He’d run and run and that was his favorite part.

The running, he ran so fast that every time he thought to himself

“Look at me! Look at me run!”

All the people in the stands.

All except his favorite person, his father.

His father, Louiieville.

He liked to slam beers and play pool.

He’d end up at the bar until it was closed.

The owners yelled,

“GO HOME LOUIIEVILLE”

He hated being called Lou.

If you called him Lou, he’d cuss you out for sure.

This time, Louiieville decided he was going to show up for his son just one time.

He slammed his last beer.

He gets in his red truck, rusted up and the engine loud.

“Vroom Vroom.” yelled his truck.

Louiieville started swerving.

He was passing red lights.

“This one time I will be there for my boy.” he said slurring his speech.

The lights go out on the field, as the sun starts to set.

“Do you need a ride, son?” The leader and coach of the youth group asked the boy.

“My neighbor is picking me up” The boy says to the coach.

This was in fact not the case, as the boy only had his ball, his glove and his bike.

“Well alright then, get home safe.” The coach said.

As everyone got in their cars, they headed home.

His father, speeding through stop signs and red lights;

He finally gets to the field.

By the time he got there, he realized the game was over.

“I know everyone left but I’m dreading going home.” the boy said.

He throws his ball in the air, and catches it with his glove.

“I wish my Dad would see me.” He said throwing the ball up in the air.

“Dads truc-?” He says outloud.

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH.

The father slams on the breaks.

Out of fear and rage he yells;

“WHAT IN THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT”

Realizing, the baseball field was empty,

He sees his son’s bike.

Which could only mean,

“My, my son” he burst into tears.

Realizing what he’s done, he opens the glove compartment.

He pulls out his gun.

“I’M SO SORRY SON” He cries out.

Gunshot, bullet to the head.

“CASE CLOSED.”

The cops said.

“Sad case”, they also said.

After the ambulance left, the police went home.

They hugged their families, out of devastation.

The quiet baseball park,

Every night after that night; it is told;

The father plays baseball in the field with his son every night

To make up for the guilt he feels;

For that night.

February Angel

You’re my aquarius.

Your eyes glisten in the sun.

When the snow falls;

We chase each other, our footprints all captured in the snow.

Snow angels with you, my February angel.

Snow ball fights, my february angel.

Playing in the snow with you, my February angel.

Willow Tree

I am a willow tree swaying in the wind;

storms and strong winds have flown around me;

but here I stay.

For I am a force, and cannot be withered away.

No lightening, no thunder, no tornado or rain

could make me be any less than I am,

for I am a willow tree.

the key to healing

if you feel lost,

and you can’t figure it out;

retrace your steps,

and it will show you the way.

no one can do it for you.

you have to do all the work on your own.

they can be there to listen and guide you,

and try to keep you warm;

but until you go outside,

in the pouring rain;

and work through it until you find your sun again;

it will always rain.

happiness

happiness.

a word that has always been

foreign to me,

but here I am everyday;

swimming and dancing

in all in it.

with all the giggles.

and laughter;

kisses;

and melting  into,

this beautiful life with you.

washing dishes  in the kitchen;

as you kiss me and I smile;

long discussions about;

bills to dancing in the kitchen;

and your hands on my hips.

wrestling nights and bets;

in the living room;

my heart is full;

when I see the both of you.

you give so much;

of your time;

to  provide;

when you walk inside;

I smile.

that excitement filling me up;

from my stomach to my racing heart;

that hug, that kiss, you’re home.

the good days, the stormy days, the sunny days,

the hard days, the tough days,

the successful days, the days where

the stress builds up and only a hug will do;

everyday for the rest of my life;

it will always be you.

everyday…

I am happy.

The Well

I fell into a well.

I tried the best I could to scream and yell.

I tried to grab the sides to climb back up, but there I had no such luck.

“What the fuck, what the bloody goddamn fuck”

Stuck in the muck, trapped in my little hell hole, and for sure; I know I shall die down here.

It’s wet and I’m cold.

I’m shaking.

What can I do? Nothing, nothing, nothing.

I find myself lost, trapped in emptiness.

I’m cold and I’m lost, no one shall ever find me here.

Here in this rocky well, with my blood smeared from climbing on the sides here.

No one will ever know I’m here.

But where is here if you dare to ask.

All I have left is this small flask.

My heart, it bled, when I fell down this well, but as you may not know, it’s not a real well.

It might as well be, with a hole this deep, that pulls me back and won’t leave me be.

This ache in my soul, it follows me.

It follows me in the depths of the darkness in my mind.

I try to climb.

I try to get out but I’m lost here, in the shadows of the dark.

My skin becomes wet, my heart feels hollow, melting into nothing with these empty shadows.

“Pull me out!” I scream

But no one can hear.

So I linger.

I wait, until the ladder appears.

Your hand reaches out to me and I climb.

Every time I fall in, you somehow find me.

You always try to save me, but somehow I’ll always find myself, back in the well.

Black Box

It lingers inside of me,

Black goo and it floats around me.

The energy pulls me in different ways,

Uncontrollable movements lead me astray.

I feel like a contortionist;

Arms waving and moving, flipping and turning;

Into an uncontrolled movement.

My limbs they flip;

They turn.

Forced to feel as if a demon has taken over my body;

And somehow it needs to be exorcised out of me.

But it’s just me, tossing and turning;

My legs shaking, the pain races inside of me.

It’s so uncomfortable, the feelings inside me.

Look

, everyone is watching.

Everyone is watching you lose control.

You hear conversations, but somehow your surrounded in;

This little black room.

The walls are black.

You bang on them, you scream.

Not a sound comes out, besides maybe a groan.

The panic comes back as the lights turn on;

It’s like a reboot, a restart, a computer that’s frozen in time.

This is how it is inside, this is my mind.

A seizure, they say.

Over and over it happens again, the torture.

Being locked in a black room, my little black box.

But no one can hear me, as I beg to be pulled out.

Autistic Eyes

I don’t always get the social cues right.

Sometimes I talk so fast I can’t read body language.

I can’t always slow down even when I want to.

I hear every little detail inside of the grocery store;

Everything moves so fast, people walking behind me;

The rush of panic flows through me, and they’re walking at a normal pace;

But to me when they walk by it’s as fast as the speed of light.

All the sounds, and lights are bright and loud around me.

Tunnel vision through my eyes, ears burn when it’s too loud.

When I meltdown;

I’ll cover my ears and turn off the lights;

Until the fire stops;

The pain at eleven..

The fear of saying the wrong thing,

Feeling like an alien, struggling to have the littlest conversations in passing;

Learning the difference between acquaintances and friendships, and acquaintances and kindness;

I can’t leave the house without a pair of headphones to drown out the noise.

When I talk, sometimes I cause a lot of confusion,

The mix up of words, and I come off as illiterate.

I confuse someone, and the words won’t come out right.

Every mixed signal, I can’t hold a conversation without overthinking.

Every little detail, every little thing I said,

Backtracking every facial expression that I can remember;

Making sure I didn’t say something offensive,

I can’t tell what’s wrong or right to say.

I panic; and worry, because I don’t want to lose another person.

Little panics turn to big panics, small emotions.

Something happened that to others may seem so small;

To me, the world is ending, that’s the fear that decides to enter after all.

The big world, little me and all the sensories.

Big hoodies and sweatpants;

Why do I feel my organs, my stomach;

I can feel my heart.

The goosebumps on my arms.

I can feel it all.

The big world, little me and all the sensories.

But look around, big beautiful world

Through my autistic eyes.

A Walk Through Snowy Pine

There is an aching in my bones.

An itch I can’t scratch.

Something inside I just can’t reach, or figure out.

So I walk.

I walk to the woods, snowy covered pine crackling right beneath my feet. I swing my arms, feel the chill as the tallest tree looks down at me, my eyes only reaching the trunk.

A doe meets eyes with me, swiftly, for a split second for at one point, she was me and I was her.

Scared. Naive. Fear.

These things come into me so easily.

Like some sort of pull, you wiggle the fear button and there she goes, scared again.

“What’s to come?”You may ask.

“Just the unknown” I reply.

And that’s the fear isn’t it?

Of what’s to come.

Dreams

Chasing dreams, I forgot I once had;

Once you relight the fire, it expands.

My spark is bright, look at my light.

Look at my eyes, dreams are all I see.

You and me, sitting in the Rogue holding hands,

I’m high off of you, euphoria.

Smiling in  the back seat, singing a song.

You’re the high life, and I’m following my dreams.

Let’s make a stop at the Taco Bell,

Those ocean blue eyes, that smile;

That voice, you’re all I need.

We’re chasing our dreams;

You are right next to me.

As we travel through time, your hand in mine.

Speed of light,I’m yours;

You’re mine.

Traveling through the speed of light.

The City

The city inside carries all these tall buildings.

We walk past them and admire them, these are the ones we built.

We grow old, hand in hand.

The gray covers his head and his hands.

Looking at her, he runs his fingers through his hair.

The grays built over time, the seconds on the clock.

“Sweetheart, look at all we made. It’s art.”

This little city we lived in.

The one we built.

We started from a small apartment, to a house, to a home.

Lots of couples of our age, walk around the city.

The city they made.

The ones of the dreams built, over a course of a lifetime;

Full of love.

Walking down the sidewalk, we decided to walk home.

You turn on the television and it’s us when we met.

Your arms wrapped around me playing pool.

A plain cheeseburger just for me, while you talk to me.

Our youth plays on the screen.

We watch ourselves and we smile.

“Do you remember that?”

A replay of our lives.

“We loved that place.”

“Do you remember our breakfast dates?”I’d say,

Looking into your eyes.

Your wrinkled face leans in, and we have our last kiss.

We make our way to bed.

As you hold my hand, you tuck me in.

You climb into our white sheets, and hold me in your arms.

We fall asleep, we rest in peace.

Gently drifting away, into eternity.

We dream of the city.

The Beast

He haunts my dreams, his fur blue.

Chills float down me, when he touches my skin.

Eyes black, your demon eyes, looking into mine.

He caresses my skin.

I lose my breath, my oxygen.

Wrap me in your sin.

Kiss me, I’m lost in your touch.

You wrap your soul into mine.

You are something so divine, so beautiful.

As you grow, the beast you are.

In the darkness you grew, you didn’t know how beautiful you were,

Hidden from the sea, from humanity.

You locked yourself in a cave, you locked yourself away.

You’re strong, your hands all over me.

Rage enters your eyes, until you feel my hand on your heart.

All the anger melts away, from the way

The world made you feel, blue beast.

You’re safe now, I won’t let anyone hurt my blue beast.

Our touch intertwined.

Melting into each other

Your heartbeat steady,

A smile forms on your face.

You look at me, in that moment.

I became your life.

The Beast and the Healer.

They lived happily ever after.

Between the cave where it was safe, he stepped out in the water.

The sunlight hits his face, as he looks at me and smiles.

TRUE STORY

Headphones, full blast;

I walked home everyday from working the night shift.

Situational awareness, my blindness.

A car pulls up and moments later, I’m in a blue car.

Moments traveled, and Queen playing in the background.

I’m dragged out the car, and pulled into sticks and mud.

The sticks are stabbing me, puddles of mud from the rain.

My hands are in the water, as you force me down, when you finish;

“GO INSIDE AND CLEAN UP!.”

As mud, and dirt, and scrapes on my knees.

I clean up, as the cashier barely notices me, I walk into the bathroom.

Wiping all of it off with paper towels.

He buys me a chocolate bar and a coffee.

His hand on my shoulder, guiding me back to the car.

We drive for a little time, pulling up to a house with red bricks.

He leads me into a dark room, with no light and tells me to sit.

Moments pass, and time has felt like it stopped.

He walks me into a small bedroom, a metal bedframe.

He forces me down on the bed, my body is no longer mine.

“You fuck like a dead fish.” he says.

Tears fall down my face.

He threatens to get me pregnant and laughs.

He finishes and falls asleep.

He tries to hold my stiff, frozen body.

Some time passes, he walks me into the kitchen.

He hands me a glass of chocolate milk.

The only nutrition I would have for two days.

He decides to order some food.

A greek restaurant, order to go.

$150 cash he takes, money I worked hard for.

“I’m keeping all of this” he says.

The food comes, but it doesn’t look appealing so I starve.

I tell him I’m tired.

Around this time it’s evening.

“You can’t go to sleep until you suck my dick.”

I refused.

He leans me over the couch, “if you want sleep, this is how you get it.”

He takes a bite out of me, until I scream.

He takes another bite.

Another one.

Another one.

Until I’m covered.

Welts cover me, I am covered in bruises.

I sleep.

The morning comes.

He rapes me over and over.

He gives me a blanket.

He plays white supremacy videos.

He’s pacing back and forth and pointing at the tv.

He does this for a couple hours.

He changes to gaming videos.

He tells me all about it.

He starts to panic, he’s worried about getting in trouble.

He’s pacing the living room.

“Time to go.” he panics.

He puts me in the car, he sings along to Bohemian Rhapsody.

The obsession with Queen, I want to leave alive so I sing along.

He tosses me out of the car, not far from where I had been walking.

“THANKS FOR THE GOOD WEEKEND.”

He swerves away quickly.

Love & War

Her aura is pink, her beauty shines.

A love like hers, so pure; so divine.

Chocolate, her favorite, she is sweet like honey.

Her favorites, cherry and peaches.

She dances with silk all around her.

He sees her beauty, staring at her from across the room.

His blades, his torches, iron; show his strength.

Dogs and serpents by his side.

His helmet shows him who he is inside.

Protective of his children,

His fierce love, he sees her.

Their eyes lock on each other,

A fierce desire.

His shield, his sword.

Her beauty, his strength.

The romance of the ages.

When You Get Home

When you get home, all my thoughts go from loud to soft.

You’re 6’2, and that smile gets me every time.

“What a day,” You’ll say with that grin.

Your arms wrapped around me, asking “how was the walk outside?”

I’ll tell you all about my day.

I think that you’re just so happy that it’s good news.

I’ve been finding myself, and you’ve just been watching me;

Seeing what hobby I’ll find next.

Rough day, talking about all the hard things, the stuff that keeps us up at night.

You are surrounded in purple’s and blue’s.

I tell you how much I love you.

Euphoric, you are.

My hands through your hair, as you crack jokes.

You move so fast, as I’m catching up to you.

Wrapped in your arms, with the glow of the tv light shining in our eyes.

I’m blessed, I’m grateful.

For yours and little one’s eyes.

When you walk through that door;

All the bad fades away and all the lies;

That feed off of my mind, they quiet themselves;

Those little thoughts, those little creatures;

When they swim around, it gets pretty loud.

All the noise fades away, and you’re setting your backpack down.

Little hugs before bed, a song; a story.

Talking about our favorites parts, the special parts of the day

Cat pillow, Stitch hanging out with us

You are my little star, but night has come to an end

Goodnight hugs, and tucked in.

In our room;

Television that plays in the background,

Warmth and closeness, being wrapped in you;;

Perfect days end, being next to you, until the birds sing

As the sun rises.

Poem By Maisie

Roses are red.

Violets are blue.

We love everyone;

That we know.

Sleep

I can’t sleep as it pours outside.

The rain hits the pavement.

The night is quiet.

Peaceful.

As it falls, the quiet house;

The darkness can creep in,

This time it decides not to;

The quiet is all I hear.

I think tonight the rain against my window pane,

Will put me right to sleep.

The Beach

I walked along the train tracks.

They led me to a beach.

Where the sand slipped right through my fingers;

And flashes of an hourglass tipping;

Flooded through my mind;

As I sat on the beach;

The waves hit my toes;

And all I could do was smile;

Because in this moment;

The earth and I became one;

And I knew in the end;

I was exactly where I wanted to be;

On the beach, feeling the wind and the sand beneath me.

seizures

vibrations

floating

falling

pressure

panic

embarrassed

sadness

self loathing

vulnerable

pain

all the things I feel because of seizures.

May 15th

In the stillness, I grew.

how to heal from ptsd

write

enjoy a walk

draw something

listen to music

cry a lot

get mad

but not for too long

find collages online

go somewhere new

watch

a movie

maybe a few

therapy

and support systems

its not who you are

it’s just something that happened to you

you can choose to speak

or you can choose to walk away

you can choose your destiny

your fate

and your symptoms might not completely go away

but I promise you, the sun will shine brighter each day.

this is the best way I know how to heal with ptsd.

He’s So Hot!

I do the dishes, and keep up with the house.

I make the appointments, and keep up with the weekly routine;

I pack the lunches, and light candles and make the house smell good.

I take out the trash, and everytime I do, I flex.

He goes to work, he’s a provider.

He kisses me after work.

He’s so hot.

He works six days a week.

He wears cargo pants and a work tee.

I make the grocery list, he brings it home.

He’s so hot.

He does our laundry and I put it away.

He talks about work but what he doesn’t know

Is

oh my god,

He’s so fucking hot.

He grabs me around the waist,

Gives me a hot ass kiss.

Doing school projects together as a family,

Watching him do his thing,

Husband material.

Watching him be a Dad, my favorite thing.

We’re talking about our day

We giggle together.

He appreciates me.

He makes me happy.

He’s touching me.

He’s loving on me.

He’s so hot!

the broken pieces

I told the trees about you.

The wind hugged me, so I mentioned you.

I told the water about you.

I spent time out in nature.

I learned tarot.

I spent time talking to the moon.

I told them you hurt me, but I still miss you.

I spent time with Gaia, she showed me the beauty of the wind and the trees and gave me an appreciation for life.

I spent time in darkness with Hecate, we worked on my shadow side.

I spent time with Aphrodite, as she showed me self love and patience within myself, and setting some boundaries for others; that would include myself.

I spent time with Ares, he made me feel strong, safe and protected;

I felt as if nothing could harm me.

I spent time with Apollo, he helped me write and helped me back into my creative side.

Through time and space my body felt stuck, emotions that wouldn’t go away.

Through the pain, I grew.

Developed a bond, saved me; they did.

Nature, the universe, the path I’m taking.

I know it’s a long road ahead; of healing and of faith.

Meditations and questions, and what lies ahead,

Finding your own path, the one that fits you like that perfect puzzle piece.

I think that every person in the world has their trauma, the broken pieces that rip us to shreds.

You have to find a way to put yourself back together;

Glue the pieces back together; and

You’ll never be the same because the pieces are broken;

They’ve completely shattered.

You glue it up, add some stitching;

You figure out the next steps and how it’s going to get better.

So each day you try, some coping mechanisms will fit;

Some won’t.

Sometimes you’ll feel stupid, wondering why everything is so damn hard.

Each day, the sun shines a little brighter.

It may not feel that way at first, but the sun always comes back.

It finds it’s way to shine through, and sometimes that light comes from unexpected places.

We all have to find a way to fix;

The broken pieces of us all.

The Letter

I’ve written you this letter a thousand times.

I really wonder if I ever cross your mind.

There were moments I thought, maybe you could hear me.

I would cry out for you, how much I miss you.

The anger would seep out of me, we had so many talks.

So much happened in your house.

A lot of things that are hard to talk about.

I’ll sit at the table.

I’ll wait for you to sit too.

Let’s have all the conversations that you’re scared to.

When you hear my name what do you think of?

Are you angry?

Are you sad?

Why did you withhold money that I gave you for my house fund?

When did you change?

Why did all the food I bought for my daughter get eaten?

When did the enmeshment start to grow?

Why did my independence give you fear?

I want to open up the conversation here.

Did you hear her insults?

I felt controlled, belittled.

No way out.

I felt trapped in your house.

I’m scared of her.

I would hold my tongue everytime.

She would break me down, with her criticisms.

I really tried.

I begged for connection.

I know she doesn’t like me.

I’ve always known.

I was hard to raise, this I know.

Never treated as a person, that’s how I felt.

Guilt trips and make up with your mom, that’s all I got.

You just sat by.

As I begged and cried.

Humiliation for years, as you sat and watched.

Never good enough, all she taught.

Hands in your pockets, as I hit the ground.

You walk up slowly as my head bounces off the ground.

Too much, too fast.

I felt trapped.

The more independent I got, the madder she became.

I was just trying to grow up, build my own life and my own name.

Enmeshment was all I knew.

When I said I’m moving out, I wasn’t taken seriously.

But once I moved out, panic was set all around.

Don’t you know I’m already supposed to be moved out.

In my thirties and still treated like a child.

That is how I felt.

I’m all grown up now;

But I lack a lot of tools, to navigate life;

So I learn.

So I teach.

I grew into something awesome.

I feel like you’d be proud of me.

I am capable.

I’ve learned a lot.

Maybe things will work out between us.

Maybe not.

I still love you.

That’s all I got.

-Meg

Thank you for reading!

– Meg Thompson

“I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.”

• EDGAR ALLEN POE

“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes they win.”

• Stephen King

“Thank you for reading. Always remember, you are loved; and you are never alone. Even through trials and tribulations, there will always be light in darkness.”

• Meg Thompson