jackrough

I might look impulsive to others, yet I hibernate on most decisions. It is only because I look stationary people get alarmed by my sudden bursts of movement.

If this were the last year of my time on this planet as a sentient being, I would be spending it exactly like I am doing right now.

Healing is not linear. They told me it wasn't linear. I knew it wasn't going to be linear. I expected a low to hit. But it still shocked me when I got angry at my parents for their caregiving style again at the age of 37. I was still mortified when I felt justified in my resentment towards my given family. Hadn't I recognised their humanity and fallibility? Hadn't I learned to look at them with compassion? "They did the best they could with the tools that were available to them." Wasn't that the conclusion? "I was born into a family that couldn't satisfy the needs of my nervous system." Wasn't this true acceptance? "We supported each other, too. We showed each other affection." Wasn't this gratitude? A family conflict unfolded in December 2020 over several phone calls. Since then, we have been disintegrating. An ongoing war; brutal battles fought over the phone and video. I have lost count of the conversations where I regressed into an earlier spiky reactive version of myself. The

I am whole, although fragmented inside. Becoming integrated is new to me, only a few years old. Before that, I lived in uncooperative pieces, alien to my entirety.

shadow roads are real be sure to follow them when they appear

I am an arrow drawn ever forward until the final yawn

we are drowning in the stories of our own telling Property, Borders, Right to Action, Right to Passage, Grievability become bigger than seas of beating precious hearts i was 8 when I watched my first war on TV i am 38 now show me how it ends

we are drowning in the stories of our own telling Property, Borders, Right to Action, Right to Passage, Grievability become bigger than seas of beating precious hearts i was 8 when I watched my first war on TV i am 38 now show me how it ends

Hungrier I am for love less interested I become with the trails you set in sparkly crumbs. Give me warmth, reciprocity, intention backed action. Nothing to hide. Nothing to tolerate. Tell me. You crave my expansion? I create from acceptance. I create in vast open spaces. In this box I decay into carrion. When sensitivity is a curse; what happens to pain? What of all those times we stood up howling; fell asleep weeping? What happens to joy; when tears are scorned? Or else weaponized; minimised or dramatized? I want to reform as soft despite the prickly world. My own spikes - always in the way. See the exhaustion; from wishing so hard through rain and shine for deep connection. Hear the the trials and errors endured away from the safe folds of solitude. Have mercy; I am trying. Lead me always again to my tribe.