Tag Archives: mental health

Into the Woods


My insides are like a dark and stormy night that you shouldn’t have ventured out in
The beginning of the well known horror story
Crashes of lightning and thunder
Shivering trees.
Howling winds

The branches crash, hitting me in the face,
as I try to make my way through the woods
How did I end up here?
Feet sunk deep in mud, the kind that sucks the shoes off your feet,
wandering barefoot now,   I am cold and wet and dirty and overhead the storm rages on.

Bramble bushes assault my skin, tiny thistles bury themselves in my hands and neck and arms, the tiniest of slivers buried deep, impossible to see or pluck out,
creating an itch, a heat, that cooks my skin and turns it against me.  Now even my own skin becomes my enemy, scratching at it, scratching as though I would peel it off to get it out, out of me.

And still overhead the rain, the deluge plunging down.
Freezing cold, shivering and shaking, dirty and wet.
Everything around me is sharp, and fierce. And I stumble injuring myself.
And I stumble.  And I stumble.

I leave myself breadcrumbs, by the light of the moon, to find my way back,
out of the woods.
But they are eaten.
By starving, ready creatures, scavenging for any morsel of nourishment.
They scarf down the bread, and show me their teeth, hissing, growling.
This is not a friendly place.  We are not allies.  They are not here to help me.
They steal my resources without a moments hesitation, they would do anything to keep themselves alive, and I don’t blame because so would I.

So would I.


Challenging the Stigma of Mental Health: Activism Through Art


I will performing pieces on mental illness and art as activism at an upcoming community showcase.  Details Below:
FB Event Page: https://www.facebook.com/events/543665889064950/

Challenging the Stigma of Mental Health: Activism Through Art is a performance based event that will introduce different art forms of social activism that speak to issues surrounding mental health.

March 24, 2014 from 4:30-7pm
120 Duke Street W. Kitchener, ON Room 108

Featuring Special Guests:
Poet – Luscious Revelation (Sunna Murphy)
Belly Dancer – Willow (Joscelyn Guindon)
Painter – Michelle Hayes

There will be raffle prizes to give away at the event, with two GRAND PRIZES being ONE MONTH PREMIUM ADULT MEMBERSHIPS to the YMCA! The YMCA is a charitable organization that aims to promote health and wellness by engaging the body, mind & spirit. Find out more info, including facility schedules at: www.arkfamilyy.ca (Kitchener location) or www.storkfamilyy.ca (Waterloo location)

Each grand prize valued at over $70.00!

There will also be snacks… And admission is FREE! Please feel free to invite your friends, this event is open to the community!



This bed has become a refuge, and a prison.
Dark and warm, I crawl on my belly, deeper and deeper
Into my own absence

This morning, I awoke desperate for some distant artifact
Evidence, of your existence
The lingering scent of your honeyed skin
A stray hair, I could braid into my own
Some remnant I could fashion into a talisman,
to ward off the dark and piercing loneliness

There are no arms to hold me.
But gently,  a cold, wet nose  and sticky, warm tongue
Attend to my grief stricken faced

If I rail at these efforts to soothe me,
she merely lies down and keeps a silent vigil for my wellbeing.
Waiting for an invitation to provide affection.

This love cannot hold me
But constant and unchanging,  it transcends language and culture
As a primate, I ache to be held
As a spirit, I recognize devotion.


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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Sacred Fire

I am a keeper of sacred fire, passion concentrate
It burns,  EVEN me, until it burns itself out.
And then,  there is darkness, cold, devastating winds piercing delicate pink flesh,
naked before the coming storm and there is no one to huddle to close to.

The wolves of night begin to howl for me, for my blood slowly curdling.

And It is fucking terrifying.

Empty and desolate, I wander a barren landscape without provision upon clay legs,
They fail me as I sink, under the weight of my own weather.

I have been taught to medicate this burden.
Put out the flames . Warm not the coals.
Assume a more neutral temperature.

Swallow your pills and Become tepid.
Walk among the masses. Join the automatic existence.

On days when you are hollowed out by darkness, rise from your bed a shadow,
Pull on the skin of a woman,an artiface, to blend with the crowd.

And I begin to question. If I throw out these pills to control my unruly nature
will I begin to grow wild and free, or simply lose my grip on reality?

Paxil You replaced Orgasms with Ordinary
Effexor  I stopped hearing the song of creation
Wellbutrin I wrote poems without power
On Prozac I wrote nothing at all
Celexa My lovers body ceased to make me weep with  its perfection.
Zoloft Tasting the honey between a womans legs no longer felt like receiveing a blessed sacrament.

Fury has done me more good than psychiatric medications every could.
I am more healed by crimson fucking nail polish than by dr’s and pills,
convinced I need to cured of these ills.

Don’t call me disordered.
I will take my torture,  and bring forth life.

Dance with the shadow, make love to the madwoman.
Call the ravens.  Gather the bones.

Howling, crying,screaming, drowning,
This is the cost of your truth.

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.