Interview With Jasminder Bains


Welcome to another biweekly interview on Mandibelle16. I’m hoping where ever you are the weather is nice and spring is on its way or summer isn’t too hot. This week I interviewed the impressive and talented writer Jasminder Bains from the United States. You can check out her blog here: Confessions Of A Reborn Girl


interview-jasminder
Credit: Jasminder Bains

1. Hi Jasminder. Please Tell Us About Yourself? 

Where to begin…I live to write because it’s my form of therapy and I love weaving words into stories. I’m a full-time dream chaser with a knack for crafting things and philosophizing and overthinking when I can.

I’m two years clean and keeping it that way. Psychology fascinates me; hence, I’m majoring in it. You’ll find there is a lot of psychology based posts on my blog. I love to sing and dance to KPOP when nobody’s around, or at least when I think nobody’s around. I had to run up three flights of stairs because I got caught once.

Also, I’m obsessed with green tea and I like to meditate because it clears my mind. I prefer video games and Doc Martens to dresses ( I only own one dress) and makeup. The only makeup I wear is eyeliner and it’s about as good as my sense of direction. I get lost even with a GPS to help me find my way. I’m an aggressive middle-class minimalist who pillages anything I can get my hands on; this is why I have a ring of rocks sitting on my dresser.

I have moments where I’m incredibly with the times and others I’m not. I set up a Twitter account recently. I have no idea what half the buttons mean. But I can give you Excel pointers and talk about ‘markdown formatting;’ I can’t tell you much about Facebook.


2. When Did You Begin Writing and Blogging? What Does Writing and Blogging Mean To You? What motivates and inspires you?

I started blogging last July, but I’ve been writing since I was in fifth grade. Poetry and blogging are how I vent as well as defeat stereotypes. I write because I want to heal other people and because I love doing it.

I find inspiration from my life because I’m an avid people-watcher and I overthink everything. I find new material is as simple as walking into the middle of a cafeteria and sitting down. I learned so much about human interaction by doing this. I make time for writing whenever I can.


“I live to write because it’s my form of therapy and I love weaving words into stories. I’m a full-time dream chaser with a knack for crafting things and philosophizing and overthinking when I can.” – Jasminder Bains


3. What Are Your Most Current Writing Projects? Any Future Projects You Have In Mind?

I’m planning on participating in the 2017 Kindness Challenge! The link to sign up is here if you’re interested. I’m also hosting my own blogging challenge, it’s called the ‘Boundless Challenge.’ The premise of the challenge is to share a #boundlessmoment from the past week where you did something that you thought you weren’t actually capable of doing.

I started the challenge not too long ago so it’s relatively new. My goal is to inspire people through this prompt. Maybe they will believe they are capable of doing much more than they think they can do. Check out the sixth #boudlessmoment challenge on my blog HERE.


4. Can You Tell Us More About Your Blog and Why You Started Blogging?

When I founded @Confessions (Confessions Of A Reborn Girl) I had one goal and one goal alone: to teach others about human potential. Too many times I’ve heard stories of people who gave up on their dreams because they didn’t think they had it in them or someone discouraged them from their path. I’m here to tell you that you are good enough and that nobody can tell you otherwise.


“The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.” – Alice Walker


That being said, [my blog] would qualify as a lifestyle blog, though I focus more on mentality and mindset rather than fashion or food. My blog categories are different takes on that ‘boundless lifestyle’ if you will.

Life, as the catagory name states, revolves around my everyday thoughts and experiences. [As I noted above] you can also find my own blogging challenge, the Boundless Challenge, which is devoted to inspiring the WordPress community to achieve their full potential. At the end of each week, I share #boundlessmoments of my own and from across the internet. . . Who knows? Maybe next week you’ll be featured!

Writer’s Corner is [a segment on my blog] where I analyze social norms and American culture along with occasional philosophizing. DIY is exactly as the name states. I have this category because crafting opened up my thinking in a way nothing else could. I believe that it can do the same for you. [Lastly, my] meditation journal [catagory] stems from my adoration for — well — meditation. [Since I] over-think, meditation is the perfect counter to my habit and it helps me analyze my emotions and inner conflict. 


“Too many times, I’ve heard stories of people who gave up on their dreams because they just didn’t think they had it in them or someone discouraged them from their path. I’m here to tell you that you are good enough and that nobody can tell you otherwise” – Jasminder Bains


5. How Does Your Blog Tie-In With Your Stance on Mental Health?

I continue to challenge the stigmas and negative stereotypes surrounding the field of mental health. There’s so much more to psychology than depression or schizophrenia or bipolar disease; [these are] only a small branch of [what is called] abnormal psychology. In order to understand the abnormal, we must first understand the normal.

I hope that by being open about my own experiences with mental health challenges and triumphs, I can give others the strength to do the same. There’s nothing wrong with having a bad day, month, or year. There’s nothing wrong with having things that keep you up at night. There’s nothing wrong with being broken.


6. Do You Have Any Other Projects On The Go? What Is Your Writing Process Like? Do You Have Any Genres of Writing or Reading that You Prefer?

I’m planning on writing a fiction book called Project Rebirth. I’ve no details other than that because I hardly know what the book is about myself. 😛 For me, writing is painful.Writing is life. WHAT WAS I THINKING WRITING THAT?!! Editing is painful. Editing is life. Rinse and repeat.

Fantasy is my FAVORITE genre. None of this 21st-century teen smut fantasy romance. I mean classy fantasy like Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart series or Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling or The Ranger’s Apprentice booksI prefer these types of books so much more than teen romance novels. 


“I hope that by being open about my own experiences with mental health challenges and triumphs, I can give others the strength to do the same. There’s nothing wrong with having a bad day, month, or year. There’s nothing wrong with having things that keep you up at night. There’s nothing wrong with being broken.” Jasminder Bains


7. Do You Have Any Helpful Tips for Other Writers? Is There Anything Else You’d Like to Share Pertinent to this Interview?

Keep writing. It’s the only way you get better (and shameless). Also, I want to fight the negative stigmas and stereotypes around mental health because it’s vastly misunderstood and generalized which is dangerous for everyone.


8. What Are Your Three Favorite Blogs You Follow Of Any Kind?


interivew-live-boundless
Credit: Jasminder Bain

9. Can You Please Share With Us Some Pieces from Your Blog?

“Pain”

By Jasminder Bains

August 26, 2016

*****

What’s this? My insides feel like they’re tearing apart. 

Something’s wrong, I should take some medication.

Something’s wrong, it’s 3 A.M. and I’m awake again. Did I ever fall asleep? I feel like I’m dying. 

I’m frozen, I feel like screaming, is this really real?

Maybe this is the dream I have to wake up from, I don’t remember falling asleep so maybe I never woke up. 

Something’s wrong, it’s 4 A.M. and I’m still here. I should just close my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if it was appendicitis….would I?  

Something’s wrong, it’s only 7 A.M. and I’m already awake. No, mum, don’t leave for work just yet. There’s a patient lying here in bed who needs to be seen.

Mum is gone. My brother needs my phone for school. It’s low on battery because I stared blankly at music videos and funny vines for half the night unable to react thanks to the burning sensation in my stomach.

Dad wants to know what’s going on so I spill my guts on him. It’s time to try another medication, stay hydrated, and ride things out.

Mum says book an appointment if it doesn’t get better. I wonder if it will get better.

I’m a statue, unmoving and emotionless. I thought today was yesterday. Guess my brain didn’t register that I ever went to sleep.

Should I feel crooked that this pain is now who I am? I don’t want to do anything let alone go the hospital. It could be nothing. Just like me.

Dad wants me to make him lunch if I’m able. Fine. The pain is mostly gone and I can wait 10 minutes to pass out.

There are two types of naps: the kind that make you feel worse than before, but you know you had no choice, and the kind that make you feel energized. Mine was the latter. Maybe it’s because I slept two hours instead of 20 minutes. Oh well. At least the pain’s almost gone.

All I’ve had to eat today is half a bagel and a tin of Chobani yogurt. I should eat something else. A salad sounds divine only I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to eat the croutons and leaves yet. Only one way to find out. Verdict: I can chew a crouton. I can’t chew a spinach leaf. I’ll just have a burrito.

Something’s wrong, it’s been 18 hours since I laid awake in bed screaming in my head and I’m doing it again. Except this time in a chair with a plate of food in front of me. Forget it. I’m not eating if it’s gonna sting this bad. Time to take some more medication. 

I don’t want to be a physical embodiment of pain, I want my life back. I want to feel joy again, I want to listen to music that lifts me up again, I want to write a blog post ahead of time again, I want to have faith again, I want to feel healthy again, I want to have both feet planted firmly on the ground again, I want to be me again.

~Live Boundless.

*****


Here are Some Additional Posts By Jasminder: 


Thank You Jasminder for sharing so much about yourself and your blogging. You’re an incredibly inspiring and motivational thinker and writer. 

If you would like to be interviewed for my biweekly interview series, please contact me HERE on my Contact Page. Once more here is the link to Jasminder’s BlogConfessions Of A Reborn Girl.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “A Congested Mind” #poetry #amwriting 


http://www.pinterest.com

——–

They call it the unknown

The future lying before you. 

No matter if you’re psychic, 

No one knows what happens. 

There are varied scenarios,

Ways it could play out, 

But truly we don’t know the future

It’s a mystery creeping forward, 

And it pulls us along on our knees.

Whether we go willingly, 

Or go kicking and screaming;

Time marches in to the beat,

Of father time’s own drum. 

****

I don’t know what’s coming, 

I know worrying won’t help. 

I think sometimes I try to give advice, 

Reassuring myself in kind. 

There are bright possibilities, 

Hoping people become, 

More kind than they are mean to each other. 

Pray people look-out for each other, 

But sometimes I think society is self-centred. 

I admit to such fault and others too,

But I’m still fearful;

When I think of a year or two ahead, 

I’m afraid what if it’s not the right plan? 

Experience deftly taught me,

Plans are dim outlines of reality. 

Mostly, life goes where it goes

And God only knows where or why. 

Leading us through dark valleys, 

Into trenches with piercing bullets flying. 

Into classrooms with screaming kids, 

A gunmen on the loose. 

He leads us through to people, 

Whose power makes one nervous. 

How even democracy isn’t safe —

A tyrant could rule all. 

Maybe the world will surprise me, 

But I fear for the little person. 

*****

My own personal fears weigh heavy, 

Though others bear pains greater. 

Of lawyers and cases, 

Of corruption and crime. 

Those crimes we deem terrible;

Those crimes brushed under the rug. 

Greed and all those other sins,

Abhorred but freely ignored. 

Though I can never say what’s worse —

My own flaws or imperfections

Or those I’m faced with. 

Stress shows through cracks, 

Egg yokes running. 

No one likes raw eggs except in cookie dough

The future is overwhelming. 

But at least they’ll still be cookie dough, 

And I don’t know why —

I’m particular and observant

Why I know it’s better to be alone

Than be truly alone with another. 

Why I wait for that spark

Why I wait for the morning dawn. 

A smile in his eyes which is genuine

Wherever he is. 

But maybe happiness is a puppy

Paws following me on the hardwood, 

Barks at random sounds. 

The glory of a puppy skidding down —

The off leash trail and wheeling;

Turning around to jump on me, 

To pick her up when she’s tired. 

*****

My bones are stiff and ridged

My dreams fall to despair

So many books and writers, 

And not anyone can compare

How to rise above the masses, 

Or fill your own niche contented. 

But perhaps one could be something

Success in small moments. 
Afraid and weighted

Need to cry, tears unshed, 

Because disease is cruel. 
Even if Heaven is the end of the tunnel,

So many words are left unsaid

The timing of it all, does it work? 

I feel alienated

Though I try hard to keep the connection

It’s all in your planning Lord;

So must I say, your will be done.

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Photo Challenge: Poem – Licentia – “Without A Sound” #amwriting #poetry #love


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt:

——

Credit: Rich Howman

——–
Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

Swing her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift;

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All to happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Perserved in time the clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

Years slide forward, what can you do but, 

Move forward too, memories cause a rut. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found, 

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—-

Swept her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift. 

Wiggling and giggling in your —

Arms; begging to have legs on ground restored

She thought she was too heavy for your back, 

You just laughed and kept her close, said “Relax.” 

You were walking barefoot on the cool —

Wet ground, the grass made you slip, such glad fools. 

Drop of joy harnessed in a crystal glass

Kept to hold, make the precious moments last. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found,

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound.

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All too happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Lovers as close as lovers can be, rolling —

On the blanket, on grass, after strolling.

Gleam in her eyes promising heaven, 

Twist of her smile taking you to Never —

-land of pirates, lost boys, and she, Wendy, 

Picking up a sword, fighting for her when —

Pirates attacked; shoeless running in real

Life; time ceasing again, treasures for feels. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

——

Perserved in time, clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

The truth is hard to swallow, to remember

Years pass, euphoria is dismembered

Harsh realities, sickness, health; sickness wins, 

She flew away my sparrow with the wind.

Such disease sucks the life from a body, 

Hope, a religious dream from pain prodded. 

A new eternity to love, swing round with —

Dirty bare feet and love despite death’s grip. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Tale Weavers Fairy Tale: Fiction – Change of Heart #taleweaver #fiction #mythology #greek #roman  


Welcome to the monthly Fairy Tale writing prompt hosted by MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. This month’s prompt is to write a fairytale about the following picture: 

——

MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——-

Daphne was tired of being stuck as a laurel tree. Thousands of years ago, she had begged her father, the river god Peneus, to save her from Apollo’s lust; he turned her into a special tree. 

Long ago she had sworn to be a virgin forever. She had begged her father to allow her to remain a free nymph. To not have to marry and birth him grandchildren. He was a kind god and had allowed his beloved daughter to remain pure. 

Daphne had always loved the woods and found serenity within the forrest. But after many years being stuck in it, the woods had become a cage to her. The laurel tree she was locked in was a prison and Daphne quietly loathed Eros who had sent Apollo after her in love, when Apollo had mocked Eros.

Eros had hit Apollo with an arrow of gold so he fell in love with Daphne. Like wise, Eros hit Daphne with an arrow of lead, so she would despise Apollo and be repelled by him. Nevertheless, Apollo visited Daphne to this day, swearing his love towards her millanias later. Her hate for Apollo had mellowed over time, although, she wouldn’t admit this to Apollo yet. 

He came often to admire her beauty even as a tree. He used some of her thinner branches and leaves to weave himself a crown of laurels, to remind himself of his love for Daphne; that this love still grew within him daily. He would replace a worn out and dried crown with a fresh one each time he visited. 

Though Apollo had many duties, he seemed to be appearing more often to see Daphne this last half-millennia. She drew her womanly figure out of her laurel tree to see him whenever he came. She had become more excited to see him over the last few hundred-years. Daphne looked forward to talking with him each visit. 

A friendship had developed and the sworn virgin Daphne was feeling things she had never felt before. Had Eros changed his mind and hit her with a golden arrow after all this time? Or had it been so long, his arrow of led had faded and no longer effected her. If so why did Apollo’s arrow of gold not fade? Why did he still love her? 

She had wondered this out loud today and Apollo laughed at her thoughts. His attractive face was timeless and beautiful. 

“It’s love Daph. It doesn’t fade if it’s real. If it’s true love it’s always there. At times I’ve been frustrated with you, about our situation and you being stuck in a laurel tree. It frustrates me you wanting to remain chaste. But even when I find I’m angry at you, the next time I see you we talk and my anger disappears. It doesn’t matter if you’re stuck in a tree, I love you anyways.”

Daphne smiled through the tree.”Look at you declaring your love to me through thousands of years unchanging. Though you yourself haven’t been chaste at all. It surprises me with all you have to do, that you come and see me without fail, these days often.” 

“Well, I think you’re returning my feelings finally; you’ve mellowed and I see you blush when I visit.” 

“Trees don’t blush Apollo.”

“Ah Daphne, you do indeed blush. I always take good care of you, so I know you well. I’ve played you many songs on my lute and I ensure the sunlight hits you just right. I keep the plague and disease from you, though it effect the humans and other parts of nature. I heal you if such disease affects you. But what I can’t do is change your form and release you from the laurel tree, if you still detest me.” Apollo sad this last line sadly. 

“You’ve tried?” Daphne asked. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to, even a few hundred-years-ago. But I grow weary of this form and it’s obstacles. I grow weary of a forrest I cannot move around and maintain. I wish to be a nymph again.” 

“Yes, dearest I know. I want that too.” 

“Would you force me?” Daphne asked Apollo. “Take me into your bed right away, no gentleness? Would you impregnate me right away?” 

Apollo shook his head. “Daph, after all these millenias you know me better than that. I’m not the lust-filled boy-god who would’ve had you without a second thought. I’ve spent thousands of years trying to get you to like me, to see beyond my faults, such as my lust. It’s not merely lust I feel for you. I love you, the real you. The nymph I’ve gotten to know so well. That’s why I have your crown upon my head. Why I play you beautiful music and take special care of you. I’d take special care with you in my bed as well,” Apollo added with a sly grin. 

“I know, but I’m afraid, Apollo. I’ve been a laurel tree so long. And before that I wanted to be on my own, no man or god to tie me down. You’ve grown on me, inch by inch, each passing year. The lead arrow in me is gone. I’m not immune to you anymore. I feel strongly for you, something I’ve never felt before. I think it’s love, is it? You would know you’re the god of truth?” 

Apollo trailed his hand down Daphne’s body in the tree.”You feel it, I know. Yes, I do see the truth, in your eyes, in your relaxed form. At last you love me too. You never even came out of the tree in your female form for many years. Perhaps now I can you heal you?” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, I think so. Our love is powerful beyond the mistakes of the past.” Apollo held his hand to Daphne’s cheek and she felt a warmth surge throughout her entire body, tree and nymph.

“Apollo, I feel your powers. My tree limbs, my leaves, they’re melting away.” 

He said nothing, to busy concentrating on healing Daphne. She closed her eyes enjoying his hand on her cheek and the warmth suffusing her body. Daphne fell into a deep sleep and when she awoke again she was a nymph. 

She looked at her hands, her face in the river. Her beauty had returned and her father would be proud, for he would have grandchildren soon. She looked around her for Apollo and found the god fast asleep. Healing her into her natural form had drained him greatly of his powers. She snuggled against him laying down beneath his arm, and they both slept. 

When they awoke, three-hundred-years had passed. Apollo had had to regenerate his powers so he sealed himself and Daphne together, hidden from human and god eyes alike, so he could sleep and be with Daphne in the future. 

He felt her shaking him awake. “Apollo, get up. You need to wake up, we’ve slept many centuries. You’re needed to do use your skills and gifts.” 

Apollo lazily opened his eyes and grasped Daphne pulling her down for a deep kiss. It was the first between them and one of only many. They were a devoted couple from then on in, for as long as gods and humans existed. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “Words After Turning Thirty-One” #amwriting #poetry 


http://www.pinterest.com

——–

What do we become as women at thirty-one?

Are we put out to pasture? 
Or are we doing the kicking to the curb? 

Are we like the woman of the 1960’s? 

Childless, no husband, so no value? 

Are we no longer desired? 

Are we spinsters, old-maids, bachelorettes for life? 

Or are do we fit my Uncles words:

“The most beautiful women are in their thirties.” 

Is it just the beginning, or is it the end? 

A last stretch of youth?

Or maybe, a reach for adulthood? 

Where some intelligence kicks in, 

And you’re tired of the lies, 

Meaningful nights; mornings depressed. 

So, you’ll wait for the right kind of guy, 

With the right kind of flaws;

Or maybe you live your own charmed life? 

Happy to be single, confident, relaxed.

Is it coming out of bubble gum and pink clouds? 

Finally not a girl;

But a woman who can impact change? 

Is it refinement and elegance? 

A striving for grace and eloquence? 

Is it realizing there is no Prince Charming? 

No white horse or Disney fairytale? 

Building your own life,

Do you forge it the best you can? 

Is it becoming aware even greater, 

Your teachers in childhood are growing older;

Your most lives won’t be around forever, 

So, you gather their wisdom while you can;

Spend time with them now.

Time steals loved ones; be they young or old.

Is thirty-one when you realize,

You are not impervious to dying at anytime in life? 

Severe fatigue, cancer, lupus, Thyroid troubles, 

Depression, anxiety, car accidents, the flu, MS;

Disease in some form, affects us all, 

Bodies which don’t bounce back as easily;

Requiring movement to maintain fitness,
And junk food, oh you’ll pay for it later! 

Sharing a bottle of vodka, tequila, or wine;

Drinking almost all of it, 

Can this be done anymore, and survived? 

Two glasses of wine or two beers, 

Every once in a while seems alright, 

Or face the two-day hangover regrettfully.

The biggest thing about being thirty-one, 

I’ll never get back years in my twenties, 

Lost in fatigue and mental illness, affects of meds;

They’re fond memories of genuine friends;

Futures, I see possibilities of having.

But someone wise once wrote, at the ages if 15 to 32:

Don’t worry about marriage, kids, or being grown-up;

Just enjoy and learn, explore the world. 

The wanderlust calls to me endlessly, 

A mysterious adventure waiting;

Such planning, such difficulties, such hardship; 

For a fantastic trip; I could barely walk all day, 

Or afford it; but wouldn’t it be worth it? 

To have thousands of foot prints,

To cover my pages, and see it’s okay – life goes how it does.

Thirty-one it’s only begun; an age of aspirations, 

Hopefully, inspirations to write more of;

As numerous as my days in all my years allotted. 

Passion and a life to live, anyway I know how.

Grace of God abounding; encircling profoundly, 

His child, he won’t let stumble long.

He guards with angels, and —

His forever promise of light in the dark; 

As wise JK Rowling wrote through Dumbledore:

“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times; 

If only one will Remember, to turn on the light.” 
——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Maydays: Poem – Free Verse – “Left Out.” #Maydays #amwriting



——

Thanks to K.L. Caley from new2writing for hosting #Maydays prompts. I skipped the prompt about geeking out for now. But am going to write about today’s prompt on friendship. My view in my poem today is that even though friendship is excellent, there are times it is frustrating. 

——-

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

I know all my friends are out, 

And I’m stuck inside.

I know we’re true adults now, 

I still feel left out.

As if I wasn’t living life, 

As if I’ve missed so much to time.

Conversations and memories, 

I was never privy too.

——-

Maybe I’ll never grow up,

Maybe a job high up isn’t so vital.

I’m making life up as I go, 

It’s the best I can do, 

I wish sometimes you understood, 

It’s extremely difficult for me sometimes, 

Not only dealing with what life throws at you,

But trying to work through problems, 

Going through a veil, more like a brick wall —

Somedays.

——-

Cancer is killing my friend, 

I don’t know if she knows, 

How wonderful a friend she is to me,

And I don’t know why but she always, 

Floods the room with her beautiful light.

She has cancer and yet, 

Her energy level is much better than mine.

I don’t know how to make my best friends understand, 

They do, but sometimes, 

They don’t see anything at all.

——

Two hours in, needing to sit down and not move, 

Having eaten two pieces of cake, 

One I shouldn’t have eaten. 

Brought the hostess wine, 

Do all the right things to be a gracious guest.

But rarely, do I feel ‘in’ on all the things going on.

I don’t know that feeling anymore, 

I’m used to friends talking around me, 

My mind fading in and out.

I try to pay attention, all the hours I’m out, 

Don’t treat me as a child, like I can’t handle life.

Like I can’t handle honest words and your normal lives, 

Mental illness is a bitch and people have little thought, 

Of what you’re working past.

People may think things, 

At this point I assume my besties understand my battle, 

But maybe they don’t understand?

——

Maybe it’s still a disease people feel uncomfortable about, 

Because they’re grown up into adults with jobs.

They have kids and careers, 

They’ve the normal life.

I’m at home after years, fighting to have energy, 

Writing writing, who picks that as a career? 

But my dreams live and drive me forward.

No matter if my story is polished and presentable, 

I make myself impeccable.

Nice hair and makeup, 

Cute clothes for my size, 

Trying to be thin, like most of them, 

Pretty as them, but more width to my hips.

——

Striving for someone to take interest in me, 

Not feel I’m doing nothing with my life, 

Ask questions about me and be curious, 

Just as I am curious about your life.

Don’t talk over me, 

I know you all have your own fights, 

Cancer the biggest I believe right now.

I wish because of it, you’d understand me more too.

I’m launching myself forward, 

But I must move to a slower pace.

I don’t want to lose my best friends, 

I don’t want to be the only one who feels, 

We need to stay in touch.

——–

An attractive guy would be nice,

A listener, a toucher, a hockey game lover.

I’d love a dog and our own condo, 

No debt, and the ability to exercise well.

All these things I want, 

With boundless energy, 

No more worry about what my friends think of my illness.

Just like them, normal.

——

I want safety in his touch,

Seeking closeness with him and equality.

Connected to me, he’s not half-treating me, 

As of I’m forever a spoiled kid, 

Just because I need a ride.

Because I’m not well enough to drive.

Themes that under lie my life at times, 

Girls looking above me, raising their noses, 

Not knowing I fly in stars and midnight showers of rain.

Soaked to the bone in my imagination, 

Dipping my toes in the rain as I write, 

Sharing my gift and my faith, 

Wisdom of magic and belief.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Skin


Want me for more than just sex,

Don’t use me to get that high,

Like me for my mind, my soul, 

Don’t like me just for my behind.

Want me for more than just to get laid,

If you can’t listen to me and care what I say,

Then you might as well, get out of the way.

You might as well go after the last girl you lost.

She’ll go for sex, but maybe not.

Maybe she learned to avoid the game you play.

Looking for that something else, the right guys give away.

No one is perfect, no one is precisely matched.

But I keep my heels and my standards high,

Because I’m a keeper, and I don’t like your vibe.

The disease you may bring, it frightens me.

How many chicks do you do this with?

I don’t mind intimacy, but I don’t like being used.

I’m not built for loving and leaving, 

I wasn’t built with my screws loose.

Some girls like it your way, I’ll leave you for them.

Because unless you like me for me,

We can’t be more then just acquaintances.

But I could be wrong, you could be a good guy.

We’ll see where this goes but you don’t know me.

And intimacy implies a knowing of more than just skin.