Chaos with Cait

One day, I will look back at the ruin and understand the trembling was not my breaking, it was the ghost of the person I had to leave behind.

My attitude is vicious, it bites, barks and leaves people all scarred. I wish it wasn’t this way. However, I do not trust easily and on normal days I am still in pain. I struggle to let you close to me, I snip at your hand the moment it reaches out. Don’t see me. Please ignore me. Maybe hug me. Offer me condolences as I put myself back together in this cold world. It’s not personal, it’s simply the only way I’ve learned to protect me, and keep myself somewhat whole.

I used to want people to understand me like so badly. Not anymore. Somewhere along the way I simply stopped caring and completely embodied the version of myself that cannot please everybody. Thankfully.

Oops, I did it again. I chose myself. I left a place that made me unhappy. I did it on my terms. I chose to be fearless. I chose to have faith. I did the things I needed to do to allow myself to become great.

I am not becoming who they need me to be. I have decided I am done becoming someone else’s version of me. From now on, the choice is mine. This life, is mine.

I choose myself. I choose myself with the same level of devotion I’ve always offered to others.

I long to find all of my joy that I seem to have misplaced. I search frantically underneath my couch cushions, I check the pockets of my unworn jackets. I even walk in circles trying to retrace my steps, wondering how far I’d wandered from myself.

Most people dream of winning millions of dollars or getting their hands on a million and one luxury items like a yacht or a fancy car or a huge and pointless house. I however only dream of a regulated nervous system, and a good night of peaceful sleep.

Even while wandering, she stands on protected ground. Because a woman moving towards herself is never lost

I deserve the kind of life that doesn’t hurt to live. So, I’m walking towards it.

I am not interested in the men who talk a lot. You know, the ones who sell you dreams and then deliver to you absolutely nothing.

I find the most peace with my nose in a book, the sun on my skin, and my favorite food close by. I watch as the sun sets and the moon comes out to sit with me. I say goodbye and hello to my dear friends, at the same time. I leave my thoughts to rest, in the field full of wildflowers. Where I sit feeling blessed, that my time has come to truly rest.

My strangeness blooms where conformity dies. A garden no one expected.

I cried myself to sleep, four times this week. But tomorrow will be better, right?

For years, my words have felt like darkness. I have been drowning daily, in my own thoughts. Every poem, every word I have shared, has carried since type of sorrow. I have wrestled with my own mind just to be able to gather a clear thought long enough to put it on a page. I have written about grief and hurt, pain and loss. I have shared my deepest fears, and the worries that keep my eyelids peeled open at night. I have struggled with feeling swallowed whole by the voids that

Every glance of hers a fire starter. She is the heat. All spark, soft skin, and flame. She’ll drive you crazy, and leave smoke in your lungs. Still, you’ll crave the warmth of getting too close.

Saying yes to me meant setting fire to every version of myself that the world built for me.

I give black cat energy. And most days, I’m okay with that.

There is something restless in the way you become not once, but time and time again. There is magic in the way that you grow, like roots reaching out to ground themselves before the seasons bloom. You are the beautiful blossom in a world filled with cold. You do not just grow, you insist on it.

I stopped waiting to become who I was before. Instead, I introduced myself to the woman who survived. I held her hand, and promised her that she was one hundred percent worth the fight.