Adventures with Kholi

...because they write awesome things.
asked her to do something with the ditty i started a few days ago, and she turned it into something awesome. i hope she's not opposed to me posting...but it made me yell out loud in class when i read it...so...it needed to be shared with the rest of the world...or at least the 3 people that read my blog.

As soon as she names it, I will tell you what it is called.

I know the sound a heart
Makes before it knows
It can be broken.
i pay attention.
Listen well. Before it breaks
There is some calm-
A waiting out.
And I know these steps
Seem small to you,
All my ways to rain.

"If you cyan't heah, you will feel," warned my mother.

Remember.

I once cracked space and sky
With smile like thunder
All my laughter erupting
Spilling over into sun and
Down to some valley
Hoping
You might notice
Dreaming
Up the most perfect arching rainbows
Backs bent double-over splitting
Gorging their dreams
Bolstering forth a horizon
Untouched
Less conquered.

I bow at the waist
And neck
And knees
Still.
Pray from a churning gut.
Harness up heaven
And hell
Around each wrist.
Sing so I can protect you
From my siren's song.
I pull as you push.
Think sturdy.
I wink in and spit
To the wind.

I make movement of all that is
With a thing some see as ease.
I swear I do
This
For you.
I sunshine
Crooked smiles above
Cloud cover
Carve jagged lightning out from dark.
I love
Hard.
Need harder.
I am no brilliant pot of something
Ready
To be taken.

I move the storm because
I make it.
You don't hear it coming?
Wait
for it.
The weighted snap.
The inversion.
I love
Hard.
I love
Unfathomable
Like a diamond unfolding
wanting needing
allowing someone else to
push past the coal.

Adventures in Post Traumatic Stress [again]

do not let the softness fool you
clouds cannot hold us up
there are no angels dangling their feet in the air
and i still want to fly
i've seen it done
teeth to the wind
the suspension of skeleton in a tissue-thin sky
there has never been such a crash landing
such a sound
as the dull thudding of hope leaving a body
finally getting all that it wanted
there is a word for this
a desperation
a tenor of static in the pit of a stomach
a cry that will never be tears enough
and there is no goodbye
no angel
no one perched in waiting at the edge of the atmosphere
waiting to carry us home

Peace Be

Adventures in Post Traumatic Stress

mental/emotional health disorders are often so easily brushed aside or explained away as other things....BPD, which usually pops up in the teenage years, is rationalized as teenage moodiness; DID is bad acting; clinical depression is oversensitivity; and so on, and so on...

but even with all that, i have always been dismissive of PTSD as an excuse to mope around and refuse to get over things. you know me - brush off everything that kills as me as being not a big deal - get through the days until i get better....so i figured anyone claiming post traumatic bla bla bla needed to man up and stop complaining.

mm.

a friend of mine recently returned from iraq, and since then had been suffering from crazy flashbacks. some not so bad...others that caused him to have crazy driving mishaps (read: one fender bender and one 3-car-showdown) because he thought he was under fire. today, after an evenful car ride home (read: praise god that i am alive), he ran into his apartment, barricaded himself in the bedroom, and jumped out of the window.

if anyone wants to tell me what to do with that, that would be great

peace be