Metamorphosis

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by Bryan Trumbull

The sky was dark and gloomy.
A silhouette tumbled and fell as she walked down the street, beer bottle in hand, trying to escape the pain of a broken romance and the emptiness.
Dismal parties, drinking nonstop, and lines drawn on the back of a toilet seat. She did the same thing night after night; the disease had taken flight.
One day, she woke up. This had to stop, so she picked up the phone and called a friend.
She bared her soul, telling how the disease had taken her soul.
Her first meeting back, she bravely said she had relapsed.
She began to settle down and face the facts.
She began to do the Steps.
Slowly and decisively, she began to look at her past.
She reached out and admitted she needed help.
Once again, she picked up the phone and asked the person who would sponsor her to take her through the Steps.
Looking deep inside, she saw that drinking was just a solution to her mind’s deceptive thinking that made her pick up the glass.
Carefully and lovingly, she shared her deepest secrets with someone who listened and told her they understood.
They guided her through the steps, telling her they had such respect for her willingness to share and cast aside the shame for the behavior that made her feel depressed.
She began to stand tall. She began to gain self-respect.
Still learning, she fumbled and made mistakes, but she admitted her faults and took responsibility for her character defects. She faced who she was with grace and became willing to change her behavior, which caused her to hurt others and lose her self-respect.
Growing and changing, the sky began to look fresh. The sun took on a brilliance that made her realize there was something with great power enveloping her with love as she took the action needed to become the woman she always was—strong, loving, and willing to pass on how she changed from a moth with beaten-up wings, barely able to fly, to a beautiful, soaring butterfly.
Love, self-respect, and admission of faults were her keys to the freedom to set her on course for success.
It is one year later, not a drink or a line to get through life. That is in the past. Setting forth on a glorious journey to happiness by living a life based on spiritual principles and love for all humankind.

Happy Birthday! This is the beginning of a life full of possibility and remarkable success.

Mother’s Love

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You told me you love me
You told me you would never leave
You told me I could trust you

You lied to me
You ignored me
You looked past me
You took my soul from me
You let him violate me

You watched me cut myself
You watched my sisters beat me
You watched your daughter suffocate me
You watched me disappear
You knew he was hurting me
All you did was sit and stare
You did not love me

Mother, why have you forsaken me?
Why have you ignored me?
Don’t you love me?

Validation

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Looking glass mirror, crystal sphere
deep blue ocean eyes
Red-plump heart

Caress my thigh

Kiss my silent eye
Stroke my silken hair
whisper sweet nothings in my ear

Unbutton my jeans
reach inside and pull my hair
Take me on an orgasmic ride

Faster, Harder softly slow
Take your time and make me yours
Make me see the cosmic sky

Kiss me gently
Hold my side
Tell me you love me
I need some sign

 

 

Nightmare

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A blood-orange sun sets on the horizon.

Trees cast twisted shadows on the black pavement.

The wind blows brown and red leaves down the street.

The temperature is dropping rapidly.
A shaggy dog runs into his doghouse.. 

A black and white cat curls up in a ball.

A snake slithers behind a rock.

Inside a cookie-cut house,

a  man is pouring himself a vodka tonic as he prepares to sit down to watch television.

He’s in an agitated mood.

His boss disapproves
The boy will be taught a lesson.

Fe Fi Fo Fum look out here he comes

The air becomes frigid with anger.

He jumps from his chair and heads toward his son’s bedroom.

Inside the room sleeps an angel dreaming of electric sheep.

A hand over his mouth, a twist of his body,

He is awakened with a jolt.  His father’s hands are upon him again.

He pleads with innocent eyes, please not this time.

Red hot seething flesh is penetrated. He struggles for a sense of comprehension
Is this happening again?

I’m not real.

I’m an illusion.

I’m a plastic doll.

But, the sheets still become splattered with blood.

A rush of pain to the head

This is real.

God take my soul

Let the sunshine in

Please answer my prayers

Let me wake from this nightmare.

Let me awake in your celestial arms.

Take me from this place and make me safe.

#Baptism

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Light turns to dark

White turns to RED

Syringe in my hand

A hypodermic syringe in my hand

I feel the devil’s presence at hand

My mind salivates with anticipation of nothingness

My arm’s vein smiles greedily, give me release it sternly winks

A prick to the skin, the antidote flows in, Ah a complete void

Explosions of a million universes enter into my mind. My flesh ignites

A deep sigh, a comet rushes over and inside, a rush of pure emptiness

I am nowhere in sight

I am the black hole

I am redness

I am mindless

I am a vapor rushing nowhere and everywhere, upside down and upright. Where’s the light?

Bubbling, panting desiring self-stimuli

I NEED FLESH TO FEED MY SOUL

Consumes, devoured, I need a pistol now. Come blast me full of holes

Fall down the hole. Lose your soul

Sell your flesh by the ounce

You’re only worth that much

Worthless, hopeless, aimless

I am a dirty blow-up doll. Come shred my plastic casing. I want to feel whole.

A tear, knowingness, an acceptance, a saddened wise grin

I know my calling. I know my destiny. I know I am a whore to be sold.

God bless my soul.

Anoint me with your blood-streaked tears.

I want to be something.