I’ve cried until my eyes are burning and swollen. I don’t write when I’m happy. I don’t write when the sunlight makes circles around my baby boy’s curly crown like a halo, or when my oldest laughs from deep in his chest, like some music the entire earth comes alive for – I don’t writeContinue reading “The doorstep.”
Author Archives: thefreeclimb
Violence
I have hardly been able to function today. Visions, images, memories of my father flood my mind and I can’t escape them. I can’t escape them. They make me want to die, to crawl out of my skin and scratch my way out of this world just to escape the pain. I smoke a cigarContinue reading “Violence”
Smoke.
My brother died six years ago. I lit some incense tonight and I’ve watched it swirl and swirl and disappear, like his face, his voice, my memories. The thought makes me hate the smoke, and I hate the correlation I’ve just made. He will never be dead to me. Sometimes I have dreams, and IContinue reading “Smoke.”
The Beast Roared
Sometimes I get the very sad sensation that there are no words to say. Like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, madness beneath me, its’ hot breath pressing in around me, rushing in one ear and out the other with whispers of my life’s failures and futility. I can feel the weight ofContinue reading “The Beast Roared”
June 15, 2019 – edited. On anger and antidepressants.
Tonight there are a lot of thoughts tumbling around inside my head, tumbling, tumbling, tumbling. It’s confusing – they jump around a lot. It feels like I don’t have a grip on my anger the way I did before the medicine kicked in. It’s hard to find, like an ember barely burning in the sunshine,Continue reading “June 15, 2019 – edited. On anger and antidepressants.”
Overstimulation and mental hoarding; Saturday night.
Full, full, full. Overfilled. It is a feeling with no words to act as a launching pad for description. Full isn’t right. Racing? No. It hurts, it’s painful. There are things that need a way out, but can’t come out with only words. That may not come out at all. It’s the feeling that aContinue reading “Overstimulation and mental hoarding; Saturday night.”
