Not My Time To Die


I lay in the murky cold dirt
waiting for death to come,
but it won’t! I just lay here
looking dumb.

It seems, since death
wants no part of me
I shall stay with the living,
so living, I shall be.

Fighting my way back
to those who shine a light,
to those who have lowered a rope
and continue to hold it tight.

Fighting my way back
to travel roads and lean on fences,
while at the other end of my thread
someone waits for me to come to my senses.

Fighting my way back
because it’s not my time to die.
I know this to be true,
because I laid down and I tried.

Return To Wonderland


I am sad to report I have lost a recent battle with the White Rabbit. I am lost in Wonderland searching for myself. I truly hope to return soon, XO friends, BB

Originally posted on The Migraine Chronicles:


The white rabbit beckons me
it seems I’m late to the party
talk of non-sense & drinking tea
stay awhile, slay the Jabberwocky

The Cheshire Cat has disappeared
left me alone to dry my tears
his smile a slow and constant fade
missed engagements forever and a day

The caterpillar continues to get high
I no longer bother to ask, “why”
I really don’t give a shit
I am far removed and over it

To slay the Jabberwocky would be a dream
but he is more powerful than he seems
he hides in the shadows ready to strike
then attacks when I’m ill prepared to fight

The Hatter, well he is mad at me
he won’t bury the past and let me be
he entices me with teases and taunts
it’s easy to do, he knows my wants

TweedleDee and TweedleDum
continue to make my mind numb
endless talking about…

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Yes, I Believe We’ve Met Before


I wrote this shortly after I met someone who I had no idea would become so important in my life. Although he did put the idea for this poem into my head, I never thought it would be a premonition of things to come…

Originally posted on The Migraine Chronicles:

Yes, I believe we’ve met before
that face
I love and adore
our hearts
they beat as one
seeing you
I come undone
our souls
they dip and dance
they are not afraid
to take the chance
it is good to see you
my old friend
shall we start this again?


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Her Drug Of Choice

He was a dangerous man
and she knew it,
she could tell
from his first hello.
It was in his
cool confidence,
and the way he never
accepted no.
became addicted to him.
His words were the drug
that pulled her in.
She was fragile and weak
and needed a fix.
He saw
through her transparency,
answered via poetic injection
a euphoric piercing prick.
She felt his words
seep warm into her veins;
she knew she would never be the same.
just to breathe.
She now had this beautiful addiction to feed.
was her dealer,
offering his drug by keystroke.
paid massive amounts
for each line,
inhaling it
like a deep toke.
Whoring herself for the very next word,
she was addicted,
crawling back again, reluctantly,
regardless of how it hurt.
He shot her up,
he gave her her fill.
She took it all in,
quickly overdosed on the thrill.
He left her alone and abandon,
empty needle on the floor.
He was a dangerous man,
she knew it,
from the moment
he said hello.

I Represent


Because this is the kind of day it is. Play nice for the pretty people…

Originally posted on The Migraine Chronicles:


The smile on my face
is painted on, expertly

my voice
sugary, sweet and sultry

my dress
perfectly planned

I have to look good for the all of them
show just a little
of this and that
keep it classy with my personal touch

the poster child of happy
after all

I am the first face they see
I am the voice on the phone
I entertain, I smile, I stroke

their egos

oh, it’s so good to see ‘ya
thanks for calling
thanks SO much

on and on
such and such

it is what I do
it is who I am
I am the face
I am the voice
I represent

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Who the fuck brings one glass slipper anyway?


Who the fuck
brings one glass slipper to your door anyway?

Prince Charming
was a fraud
living off his daddy’s wealth and good name

The whole thing a lie
set up to fail from the start
based on false pretense
lies, rumors and a weak heart

A lonely girl
with one chance to escape
all her bets
on a simple Price Charming were placed

That lonely girl
should have thought twice
by a fairy godmother
and house mice

Perhaps her judgement
was a wee bit wrong
maybe that midnight dash
was her saying
“I just don’t belong”

Maybe she was simply
trying to get away
and Prince Charming’s
glass slipper shenanigans coaxed her to stay

This came to mind after a conversation with my daughter.  The conversation started with a knock on the door and went a little something like this…

Knock – Knock

Me -“hey, was that door? Go answer it”

Daughter – “I don’t think so , and I don’t want to!”

Me – “It could be Prince Charming! You should answer the door.”

Daughter – “Fuck Prince Charming! What kind of asshole only brings one shoe to your door anyway? I don’t have time for that shit!”

So there you go Ladies and Gentlemen, I can assure you that MY daughter is certainly NOT holding out for Prince Charming.  And if you ever come knocking on our door, you had better be holding a pair of shoes, size 7, thank you very much!



If you take something beautiful

and hide it away

will it’s beauty

eventually fade?

If you keep it locked up

hid out of sight

keep it in the dark

shield it from light,

will it’s beauty

turn to ugliness?

Perhaps that’s the motive,

erase all beauty

from this place.

One by one,



we all



So You Think You Know Me


I don’t believe you know me
you think you do.

it is possible
we have met
a time
or maybe

It could be
we have conversed
late into the night
we’ve shared a drink
you’ve offered me a light

you have whispered
a secret
into my ear
something only meant
for me to hear

Once upon a time
did you twirl me
’round the dance floor
did you kiss my hand
then ask me for
one more

Could it be
I laughed
when you told a funny joke
did I
giggle with glee
and give your arm a poke?

So you think you know me?
Well get in line with the others!

Just because you bought me a drink at a bar
doesn’t mean shit,
so don’t even bother!

It Isn’t Love

For everyone who has ever stayed in a relationship after the love was gone…

Sometimes I just feel a strong urge to talk about things even though it is an uncomfortable subject matter for me personally, I feel the need to talk about it because it may help even just one person, and if so then I’ll be uncomfortable all day long.

Before you read further you should know this writing is based on this writers own personal experiences and not an expert opinion.

It isn’t love if…   (please feel free to replace he with she if the case may be so)

he pushes you away just to pull you close
he makes you cry so he can wipe your nose
he leaves marks on you that he calls his own

plays on your fears under guise of protection
demands that your body be pure perfection
he takes you away from those who give you affection

It isn’t love if…
promises are made under false pretense
sorry becomes a word of reluctance

voices are raised during daily conversation
each day brings added frustration

emotions brings physical ills
you start to turns to alcohol and pills

the thought of the blade
brings more relief than his touch
I’m telling you now, this isn’t love

When I started this post I had no intention of writing any of it in poem, but that kind of just happens with me.   Plus I read a few things the last two days that just prompted me to get this out sooner rather than later.  Having stayed in shitty relationships too long myself and watching people I love to the same it just breaks my heart when I know people are doing it when they don’t have to.  Sometimes I worry that they may not know that abuse can hide as love.

I didn’t, I didn’t at all.  I remember standing in the back of the church and looking down the aisle at my soon to be husband (now ex) who was pretty intoxicated and looking at the best man rather than me, (that’s not how it should be) and I was thinking “OMG, I don’t want to do this”, but my maid of honor looked at me like, bitch I’m going to come get you if you don’t start walking.  And real life is not a movie, so I walked, and I learned.  I learned a whole lot about what love isn’t.

It should not have taken me that long to “learn”, all the signs were there long before the walk down the aisle.  I have a little scar on my chin because “don’t you walk away from me when I’m talking to you”, hello, that’s not love.  He used to leave such painful hickeys on my neck (he literally held me down to do this) so that all the boys knew I was taken.  Not love, ownership.  I used to be rather fearful when I was younger, and he would use these fears to make me upset so that I would cry, he would scare me on purpose, and then when I’d cry, scream, freak out, he’d pull me close and tell me it was all alright and he’d take care of me.  That is not love, that is manipulation.   I could go on, but you get the general idea.

He did have a partner in crime really.  I am sad and sorry to say that my Mother had me convinced that he was the only boy who would / could ever love me, so I felt that I had to not only love him back, but I had sure as hell better be happy to have his love.   I am happy to report that my mother (God Love Her) yawned through the wedding, and passed out at the reception.  It was the perfect night indeed.  But enough about that.

My point is, do not be fooled by those trying to pass off false love!!!!  YOU are worth so much more!!  YOU are worth real love, I promise.

She Dances With The Devil


A dig through the vault.

Originally posted on The Migraine Chronicles:


She prays for peace and she preaches of love
she begs for forgiveness from up above
but the truth is, her life is dark at best
she prays at night for peaceful rest

she dances with the devil most everyday
she tried to run, but he made her stay
the devil is sly with his words
he spreads fear, and promises that are absurd

the devil is careless with her life
she is his possession, a trinket, a toy
and what he owns he surely breaks
so she knows she will also see the same fate

but the church and groups teach love and tolerance
so she prays and she pleads for guidance
and when the devil belittles, shouts and yells
and when fear is running all about

she stands her ground she stands tall
because she knows if she were to fall
if she were to let the fear…

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The Other Side of the Fence


Today is Suicide Prevention Day – Just saying.

Originally posted on The Migraine Chronicles:

I have to comment, I have to say something as both an observer, and someone who has been on the other side of the fence of suicide, attempted suicide and mental disorders.  I am doing this because I have read so many posts on this site about suicide, and depression and it is heartbreaking.  I may not understand what each individual is going through, nobody can feel the same as anyone else, but we are all a mess, we are all broken, that is why we come here, for a connection.

I have been burying people my whole life, because of that I consider myself both blessed and cursed.  Blessed because it means that I have loved and been loved by so many people for so long, that I was lucky enough to have been a witness to so many lives.  Cursed because I have had to say goodbye to…

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That’s the thing about a fire

it needs oxygen to burn

even red hot embers

will grow cold without a sparked return

The hottest flame

needs air to feed

A fire

needs to breathe

You need to feed it

to keep it hot

or it turns to ashes

smolders and rots

The hottest flame

will burn out fast

unless you feed it

it will not last

please forgive me

Please forgive me in advance

for the things I will not see

for the help I will ignore

when you offer it to me

for the rope I toss aside

when you lower it to me

for words of encouragement

that will not reach my ears

no matter how beautiful

I will not be able to hear

the quicksand of despair is faster and stronger

than I can ever explain

so please forgive me

for the things I just can’t do today


What If?


I have no new words today so What If I just re-blog some old ones?

Originally posted on The Migraine Chronicles:

all we need is

If the stars aligned perfectly
if the moon was a different hue
do you think things would be different
between me and you?

If the words came out right
instead, of always wrong,
if I could recite
the words to every song,
would love be different
or would hate be the same?

What if things were different
and nothing else mattered
just a boy and a girl
together forever?

If we both had the same rules
to this silly game,
would it be different
or would it still be the same?

I don’t know –
but these things cross my mind
and I just wonder
from time to time.

What if things were different
without rhyme or reason,
a different time
a different season,
no logic, no math
different truths
different facts.

And what if destiny is real
and love, is, what we feel
and what if we do nothing…

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