“Blue, green, grey, white, or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent.”
― H.P. Lovecraft
The blue moon passed and I mean it is over. I am so glad. What a bitch of an experience. I felt in prison as if trapped in the iron maiden. Feelings of hate grew from me like branches on an old oak tree ready to escape this body dungeon of despair. I was right in the middle of this hell not knowing if it would pass. My lungs ached and my breathing stopped only reanimated by the puff of an Albuterol. Cold then hot. Sweat melted me. I took a hot shower breathing deep and counting to ten. My mind was a little voodoo doll where little pins of painful thoughts pierced through my mind. Hate, lies and men enraged my body. The past, the now, how or could I go on. It felt like birthing. I did simple things . I did simple routines to keep me on track. The dishes, the laundry or making a sandwich for his lunch tomorrow. I walked outside and sat on the plastic white chair. I felt a thin breeze touch my face as if a kiss to ease my hopelessness as I cried. I didn’t brush my teeth or read a weird ass Grimm’s Fairy Tale to my son, just the usual prayer as the white cat jumped up to the top bunk-bed with him. I took my pain pills and drank my chamomile tea and turned on the biography channel called the Unexplained. This slowly pulled me out of my suffering into the suffering and mystery of others. I very slowly fell into a slumber. I awoke with easy breathing. A little coughing but healthy breathing. The almost hysterical dense feelings from the day before passed and so too summer was moving into autumn. What a fight it was and now today life is normal again. My coffee is delightful. My music is good. I made it through this hell and I am happy and content now. This blue moon was a dark blue moon her lessons did not break me. My growing pains as a baby crone.
The Seminary of Praying Mantis Publishing 