Ashes to Ashes

Ashes to Ashes

How can the heart beat

in so many places

all at once

tiny fire

little star

Constellations 

drowning in a midnight ocean

Pulses of light 

extinguished billions of years ago

Merely a distant echo

to be felt from lifetime to lifetime

without ever connecting 

We illuminate the infinite universe

and with a single exhalation

dust

Angela Minard 2015©

Photography by~ Stephanie Dalton Cowan

Lost Girls

Dedicated to all of the women lost to eating disorders, trauma, and depression. 

Lost Girls

We will always wait for you

arms outstretched

fingers reaching

wanting, hoping

the air pulsating, 
throbbing 

our hearts heavy

Plum, orchid, periwinkle

waiting, dripping, bleeding

Unable to lift the weight of your head

away from your neck

Your chin rests against your heart

steady thrumming

like a kitten

you purr

Humming breath
your pulse racing ahead of your words

Breathe, Breathe,

please, breathe

Flashes of you ...
laughing, smiling,

pleading, crying

We are here now 
to keep you safe

our bodies filled with your voice

we will speak...

                                                                      

Angela Minard 2014©

Not Scared Enough

You would think that summer would be the hardest time of year for me. I was raped the summer that I was eleven, and though it is hard, autumn and winter are the worst. I remember going back to school, the smells in the air, the feel of the wind, and trying to forget. This time of year brings back the pain of holding it all inside. It brings back the fear that everyone would discover my secret and be disgusted when they looked at me. I can still feel the filth crawling on my skin, and I wish more than anything, that I was not here. I want to close my eyes and be able to disappear. It's not that I'm necessarily suicidal, although both attempts have been in the winter, and my eating dwindles down to nothing. Maybe I only want to escape from being me, and of knowing that people will hurt you. I don't want to remember. Both of my attempts were meant to obliterate the memories, and at the time, I didn't contemplate the finality of death. I still don't. Most of the time I choose to forget that I'm slowly killing myself, and my health is failing. I ignore the osteoporosis, the skipped heartbeats, and my screwed up digestive system. My therapist tried to scare me today, and the tough love hurts and makes me angry at the same time. How dare she care, and make me feel guilty for hurting those who love me. I get mad at everyone around me, and for what? For loving me when I can't love myself? It all sounds so easy when everyone tells me that I need to take care of myself. Just eat...it is only food...go to the kitchen, try not to think about it, and do it. My therapist said that she thinks her words roll off of me like teflon. I hear them, but I can't find enough energy to put them into action. To say I'm tired is an understatement. To say I don't really care is the truth. I scare myself a little, but not enough. Not enough to find the strength to take care of me.

I Wonder...

I Wonder

How is it
that in a day,
something
so devastating
can happen
that changes
your world
forever,
and yet
for a moment,
it can be
forgotten.
You catch
a smile,
a laugh,
the fleeting joy
of being alive,
dissipating
with the remembrance
of all
that has been lost.

Angela Minard 2008

The Dichotomy Of Me

Today I am just trying to take each moment as it comes, but still, the emotion overwhelms me. I went this morning to have my lab work done. I have spoken with my supervisors at work, and now we are just dealing with the money and insurance issues. It is very hard not to feel like I'm a burden. This is going to wipe us out financially. I feel hopeful and hopeless all at the same time, which is very strange and frightening. I also feel such pressure from myself. My therapist says that there is no way that I can fail, but it is very hard from where I am sitting to see it that way. I do think about just ending all of this. I have never been in the place where I either want recovery so much, or I want to give up. I don't have an in between place anymore. The middle is purgatory. I'm so tired, my heart is skipping, and I would just like it to stop.