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emmajeanisnotmylover · 2 months
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joyless.
I don’t dance anymore. the men, they ripped the heart right out of me over many nights on many dance floors, with every unwanted kiss and wandering hand with sweaty paws and damp nuzzles on my neck they slowly pulled my bloody beating heart right out of my chest I have watched them take advantage,  these men who barely know how to dance these men who learned just enough to boost their own ego by being able to touch and control a woman’s body these men who’ve been dancing only a fraction of the time that I have just long enough to persuade innocent girls who have newly discovered the allure of this ethereal craft and women who want more, want more want to look good and talented on the dance floor - he's learned just enough, or more likely hasn't learned anything at all and is simply gifted with the audacity men are so blessed to be naturally endowed with - in any case he's able to convince her that he holds the secret if only she would come over to his house and pay him money - her money, which is still about 83 cents to his dollar - so he can touch her out of the sight of others and I watch the men in charge of these scenes who have voluntarily taken on the safety of a community where women are disproportionately preyed on and women get to choose the possibility of new trauma vs. the possibility of new joy every time they accept a dance with a man - these men in charge they watch and they do nothing they watch and apparently are unable to learn they watch and they don’t see what I see - or more likely just can’t be bothered - so I tell them. and the man who kissed me three times on the neck without consent and made unforgivably crude comments in my ear all while touching my body on the dance floor where I am supposed to experience joy that man is still welcomed with open arms in the rooms where I no longer show my face because I tell the men in charge and they do nothing and the women, I tell them too and they shrug and keep going to those dance floors because it didn’t happen to them so I guess it doesn’t matter and they keep giving money and friendship and dances to these men who refuse to keep us safe and all my friends say:
“I’m sorry, I have to go. My mental health, you know.”
and every time another friend says that, all I hear them saying is my mental health doesn’t matter. they must not have heard the anguish in my voice every time I ever confessed that dance is the only place in my life where I experience joy. and they don’t seem to care that I deserve to experience joy, too. that I no longer have access to this medicine. and everyone talks about supporting the "community" but I stand now on the outside watching the people I thought were my community and instead of solidarity and mutual aid and community support - instead of everyone standing up and demanding better remedies better leadership better standards - my friends they leave me behind, unsupported. and they keep going back to drink from a poisoned well. and I watch and I am distraught for not having any water to drink at all but I know that dying of thirst is better than paying a miser's fee to drink from the well he poisoned himself.
and the men they plan more dances and I am absent from them all. everyone says they miss me and everyone says they want to dance with me and I stare blankly back at them because I watched them trade me for the predators they chose to keep. I watched them make that choice over and again .
and everyone wants to dance with me but no one is doing anything it would take for me to dance again.
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emmajeanisnotmylover · 3 months
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where the heart is.
you remind me what it's like to be young and full of love and overflowing with boundless life force, wielding vortices of creative energy - simply by virtue of making choices and chasing a dream. you remind me what I love and what matters most to me - you remind me what feels like home. you awakened me - I didn't realize I was even sleeping all this time? three years stuck in a mucky muddy gridlock, bound and gagged by rotting cords, fighting to get free for so long, a deer snared in a trap - exhausted I have just been laying here, half-conscious and frozen in panic - and I don't mean that I needed to be saved but you did come upon me there and though you found me broken and thrashing and bleeding out - you loved me anyway. and you stayed by my side. and somehow that was enough. your love is a salve a mystery to me of the oldest kind and you didn't save me but you did stop the bleeding so that I could breathe deep in your shelter and find my way out. thank you for waking me up and thank you for waking up to me. your love has brought me home to myself. your love has set me free.
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emmajeanisnotmylover · 3 months
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tidal force.
winging away from you once again I am leaving you again, again, again. and another new year yawns and stretches out before me, it is wide and winding and covered in question marks and marked by Tulsi Holy Basil, Awakening. Look at her: Waking up! I miss you already. I miss you in all the spaces where I want to be building together. and I am home and I miss you on my couch and I miss you in my kitchen and I miss you kissing me naked and ravenous in the hallway where we can't keep our hands off each other as we tumble between the bathroom and the bed. I miss you and you are also with me. it's always that way with you - a problem is never a problem, in your presence a conflict beheld by another under your gaze dissipates into the flow of the river the laws of gravity are obeyed always in your sweet water arms, the path of least resistance - not a defeat, only true and right and patience and love. I miss you and what could we have to worry about? after all we are but earthly bodies of water ruled gently by the moon herself - I know this to be true because the moon, she brought us to each other slowly and deliberately and over many, many miles and at just the right time and who am I to question the divine timing of the moon?
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emmajeanisnotmylover · 5 months
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star body.
I loved you before I ever met you and when I met you I knew you instantly. perhaps our particles are from the same star and the moment you spoke words in my direction - my star body memory recognized your star body energy so that we both looked a little closer and saw there something deep and familiar and fated in the Channel of Unavoidable Predestiny running right through both our hearts.
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emmajeanisnotmylover · 7 months
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birthright.
I am made of Alabama red clay and thick cicada nights I am made of the sweat beading on your brow and the steady pulsing of contra dance floors of heavy thunderstorms rolling through the hills and lush underbrush and towering trees of the Deep South.
I am made of Montana big sky and thick-coated treks through settled snow of cross country bike rides and air so crisp it might pierce your lungs lake water colder than you ever dreamed and an unbroken nature like you've never seen.
But more than that I am made of ancient stardust - the untamed and tangled deep wildness of the unfathomable forests of Appalachia. seventeen years I spent exchanging molecules with the rhododendrons, magnolia and dogwood, ferns and mosses of western North Carolina. crickets and marigolds and scuppernongs paint my heart; honeysuckle and virginia creeper wrap my spine; mountain brooks and old time music and tree frogs tap out the rhythm of the blood running through my veins. and when I walk the streets of Asheville, North Carolina the fae there know me & they call my name. I am a daughter of the Appalachian mountains. and neither you nor him nor my mother can ever take that away from me.
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emmajeanisnotmylover · 8 months
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on the one.
i am illusory. my whole life i have haunted one place or another learning watching holding my boundaries taking care of myself standing strong always peripheral never integrated the challenge of this lifetime for me is one (independence).
that will never change.
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emmajeanisnotmylover · 8 months
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up.
i press my feet slowly and carefully into the moss and the soft damp ground i am treading so nimbly like a nymph navigating the steep slope of the land above the shores of lake superior over boulders and under fallen trees weaving in and around among the thimbleberries and royal ferns deep here in the woods of wild upper michigan a few paces ahead of you i pause under low hemlock boughs and turn to face you with a quiet smile on my lips inviting you to step closer into me with only mischief and desire in my cheeks we kiss there in the deep green of the woods hair wet and wild in all directions and i feel our roots shooting into the ground below and touching there intertwining just under the surface i breathe soft and deeply a sigh of earth magicks floating on the cool vapors of our dip in icy bright fresh waters i am grounded i am grateful i am gloriously warm just to be here with you.
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one minute to go.
I meant to say: when I left you at the airport that morning I was scared I would never see you again. I meant to say: thank you for moving towards me instead. I meant to say: thank you for standing in this lightning bolt with me and holding my hand as we have felt it relished in it both electrified. I meant to say: thank you for bringing yourself to this moment with such deep care and presence and gentle intention. I meant to say: thank you for being willing to question your own bounds and for playing with me here on the edges. I meant to say: gaia herself runs in the veins of the body of this relationship. I meant to say: I see you. honey sweet and fiery scorpio, I meant to say: I could worship you. precious tender water scorpio, I meant to say: I could love you with everything I have.
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i. the magician.
delusional and drunk on foggy neptune transits you were here for a moment - just one moment, maybe three I could barely look you in the eye the lightning there so present, so blinding, so fiery and earnest and now you’re gone.. so sticky hot and sweet like honey surely you were just a dream but I have barely dared to dream of you.
the very instant I looked up and saw you the very moment words moved from one of us to the other I knew then already that this was actually something I knew then already that this could be everything.
just three nights gaia granted us a tiny window a glimpse a vision a vignette.
and just like a perfect dream I never dared to dream, already you are fading away far too good to be actually true far too good to be actually real far too good for me to acually keep.
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0. the fool
it’s meant to be the year of the fool but am i fool enough to do exactly this? to plunge headfirst into the deep end of this deeply glittering pool with all manner of skeletons and unknown ugly demons lurking behind corners and just under the surface?
the cards have said it is so but i consider how little space there is for me here i enter this home that’s held so many loves before me and fold myself patiently into your couch i am never asked really how i’m doing and immediately become a container for each and every thought and story that passes through your head and out of your lips without a single filter.
there are already 5 lifetimes here, and 2 families.
i want to be known and yes you have capacity i see it in all you have done with your life but do you have capacity to know me?
i am 3 lifetimes and 5 oceans deep. and i want my love to see and know it all.
and yes you are alive - so deeply alive in all the ways i dream the love that’s made for me will be  - but can you be alive with me?
on the very first day of this bright new year i awoke in a pool of newfound lifeblood, an utter fountain of forbidden hopes and dreams - all in your name, swirling above my head and curling tendrils through my fixed water heart and i received the news:  open to what you have never known be willing to make mistakes and keep your heart open - with dandelion and monarch butterfly and your absolute fixed air scent written all up and fucking down and backwards - all over it.
and yes i desire to trust the wisdom of the fool but there is scarcely room for all that i am in your embrace and no - i may not be fool enough to do exactly this.
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deep waters.
have you ever danced with a scorpio, my dear? I see it in your eyes and I can hear it in your voice I feel it in your body, the way it trembles under mine...
before you take another step, you should really know - every word I say: an oath every kiss I give: like breathing every touch: like lightning
I am deep waters dancing under the gentle touch of your winds you play soft and sweet across my surface come  - lay out your limbs in my deep waters.
I long to whip your winds into a frenzy like you’ve never known a whirlwind of careful chemistry, thrown like caution off the cliff.
I set out to unwind your aquarian riddles and run down the grooves of your well worn patterns and paths I see you so clearly laid out in front of me... laid out beneath me... and I am deepened with a hunger I have hardly known before.
have you ever danced with a scorpio, my love? truly you must watch your step, and truly you must watch your touch before you even remember to look up you will find yourself at my mercy plunged deep into depths that do not wish to give you back.
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age of aquarius.
I’ve been receiving visions of you can you even believe? since long before you touched me with that wild pulsing electricity since long before you asked me for that witching hour kiss...
I’ve been receiving visions of you am I truly mad? sent to me, I see us deep in the forest - a goddess and her dryad. dipping gleefully at bright blue springs playing like pixies darting between the weeds...
I have received visions of you! I can scarce believe it’s true heads thrown back and shining sitting at a hilltop fire, under a blazing flower moon...
years on i have walked certain sacred quiet paths and while many have approached their energy is out of place and out of line awkward in the spaces i call most mine
secret tender spots i hide in the deepest depths of my own heart years on not one i’ve met has been a near match to play the part
and yet
before you ever winked at me so quietly on the couch or touched me with such careful intention before i ever shared my names with you or gave into this smoldering tension
gaia herself sent me visions of you - you by my side - in places i never imagined i would ever bring a single soul.
and while we sit now in separate homes leading fully separate lives swirling in the same magic whirlwind spell of the first week of the new year -
i can’t help but hope - gaia please tell me true - these newfound dreams these visions of you come true.
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highest desire.
I leave the dance party I am floating from the wine and good dances and dear friends through the perfectly breezy warm april air crickets and katydids buzz all around me fuzzy spring foliage wraps street lamps above me in gorgeous earthly halos I am reminded that some things never change I am reminded this is my highest desire my happiest place if I could write the story of my life it would be this floating through the night after hours of dancing over and over and over again until I am laid softly in the ground.
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not a love story.
I don’t sleep. I don’t dream. somehow you got into my air supply gemini high in the worst way and I can’t seem to flush you out you run through my veins all day and you run through my blood all night I lay in bed for hours and hours but I’m never sleeping I only think of you.
I lay awake all night willing myself to sleep and I remember the life I imagined for myself. I wouldn’t have written this story. I wouldn’t have written you.
I think of all that I have loved about you the way my whole body warms when I feel you invite me in and I realize I have imagined you to be so much more than you are no you never gave me anything good from the day that I met you I’ve been waiting for you to catch up we made a soul contract and we promised to meet each other here but you weren’t ready I did all the work to be ready to meet you here and you, you did none of it.
I feel it in my bones that you have disappointed me over and over across the universe and countless dimensions; I am always waiting to see you and I am always waiting for you and you, you never think of me at all.
my friends have been trying to tell me that you’re no friend to me and it took me a moment to accept that you had given up on the idea of wanting me and it took me a minute to see you for all that you are.
and you stand there now in all your betrayal and trying to hide that bloody knife behind your back and wow you must think I’m really stupid because you stabbed me in the chest and the blood spattered all in my face I’m staring at you, bleeding out, and still you’ve got that dumb look on your face like, how could I be mad at you and you dont think you did anything wrong at all. and I see you now for the coward that you are.
all you do is hide. all you do is let me down.
this isn’t fun anymore, if it ever was, and I would never choose this for myself. I can’t. I won’t. I’m gone.
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shut the door.
we are standing just inches from each other our bare feet going bright red and numb in the shallows of this January creek water when I tell you, I think it’s harder for me than it is for you.
what I really mean is: a scorpio, I sit here soaking in my own blood, drawn of my own volition to share how much I care with you, a gemini, instantly swept away on the next whim of wind, not giving one glance back at me sitting in my pool of grief immense love pouring from my wrists with nowhere to go.
3 times now I swallow and digest these violent shards of broken heart glass edges sharper and contents more fatal each time than the last.
what hurts the most is knowing of the pieces of you that I will never see. pieces of you that you don’t want to give me. the pieces that you offered up and shared freely with another, and the same pieces you let wither and die with that love.
truth is, I would rather grieve this that will never be, glass shredding my insides to ribbons, alone, and forever, than suffer your incapacity over & over & over again.
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all caution, no wind.
what is it that you’re doing spending all that time alone are you healing, are you thinking? are you making lists of what you want? or just preserving empty space? floating through the air and passing time constructing walls around your empty castle way up there in your gemini sky.
your love is warm in my lungs like a shot of tequila (the promise of a night that could go anywhere) a secret wink across the room through an impossible crowd your love is the noise of a bustling city street the easy and persistent ruckus floats on the air and in through my open window finds me where I’m sleeping and wakes me up to reckless joy a bright, open, sunny day boundless adventures ahead and lots to laugh about.
my love is soft as a springtime rain in texas falling on bright green tips of juniper needles my love is enduring as the beams of a full flower moon clear and blue as a hidden spring in the hill country deep enough for you to set your things aside lay out your limbs and float in it. come skinnydip in my deep waters.
our love is the color of a SZA album rolling in with big feelings and scary gusts; cloudy, sad, and hopeful. aleady heavy and full of heartbreak.
but there’s something about the way you make me feel some way you say my name that matters more than any way or anyone who ever spoke it before. you say my name and I float away on up to the heavens on your winds wishing never to come down or ever touch the ground again...
what is it that you’re doing with all this time alone? trying to catch my eye or stumble on my path when you know that I am elsewhere and out of reach what is it that you think I’m doing? what stories have you told yourself to fuel your furious construction and fortify those walls you seem to hold so dear?
our love is exhausting, mismatched, and desperately unlikely. our love is a hopeless mess of magnets and desire.
my heart breaks into five million pieces when I learn that we made a soul contract. in another place, at another time. we promised to meet each other here. I showed up ready to love you and you showed up afraid.
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honeyjar.
I finally opened the honey jar I use to collect the moments that make me happy every year the pile of joyful notes was small and all but 3 moments that I deemed worthy of the jar in the last 365 days centered all around time I spent with people I dated.
I set aside last year’s small pile of moments, leaving the honey jar empty and open for a new year I draw a hot bath and pour in oil of Happiness. Soaking in my New Year Joy Bath I am sitting with the realization that  even after all my time alone and even after all my healing even after all my growth once again I don’t seem to know how to access deep resounding sacred joy all on my own.
I drain the bath. Before I fold myself into bed I tuck a brand new memory in the honey jar - my first note of the new year - the moment you told me you love me not on a full week ago.
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