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About my everyday life, my struggles with addiction, sexual abuse, bipolar and family |
A blog about my life and how I got through some serious issues in hopes for a better tomorrow  |
| /Users/kym/Pictures/iPhoto Library/Masters/2012/04/03/20120403-024628/419943_304701746250461_100001319130422_806223_611171456_n.jpg Things are bubbling between my dad and I.The secret will possibly soon come out. I am nervous and so is he, I meet with my son today so we can get together and know one another not on a surface basis. He's 24 and I barely know him. So the next couple of weeks should be interest to the least. |
| This is how I am feeling today and the problems I still face while in my recovery. The Beauty That Lies Within As I look into the mirror, I’m not sure who I see. Someone’s there looking back, I guess that must be me. Buried deep within myself, Is someone I don’t know. Buried by my feelings, That I’m afraid to show. The outside looks so perfect, As a way to push away. Any close relations, That often come my way. The reflection in the mirror, Is of who I am right now. If I want to change it, I’ll have to figure how. Eyes are staring back at me, With the secrets to my soul. Letting someone in my life, Is definitely a goal. The beauty that I hold inside, Is a treasure in itself. What I really need to do, Is simply love myself. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 4/12/12 |
| A fun poem I wrote today. Something Left Behind I sat myself on the can, With my pants down to my feet. I did my daily duty, and feeling much relief. Reaching for the toilet paper, I saw this little piece. What was I to do with this, It won’t even wipe a crease? Horrified and petrified, Not knowing what to do. Stuck on my butt with me, A gigantic piece of poo. I sat there on the toilet seat, Bowed my head and prayed. Hoping that some miracle, Would soon come my way. I slowly pulled my pants up, Walked bowlegged out the stall. I didn’t want my legs to touch, ‘Cause if they did, I’d ball. The other stalls were occupied, I was standing in my poo. Tears came quickly to my eyes, As I felt that I was through. My manager came through the door, and saw me standing there. He told me to get back to work, No excuse he didn’t care. I walked myself down the hall, and sat there in my chair. Everything was over now, For this I couldn’t bare. I got myself up again, Knowing that I stunk. For I was so embarrassed, The smell was just pure funk. The bathroom stall is not my friend, Unless I have my stash. Nothing will never stick again, To this white, hairy ass. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 4/11/12 |
| My Poetry Book called "Pieces of Me" is being worked on and hopefully will be published soon. I am excited but found that I had to leave certain types of poems out for my first book, but can still share them here with you. I am proud of my poetry and feel is it getting better the more I write. Below is an Acrostic poem I wrote using the title of my book PIECES OF ME Poems about life and experiences, Important messages if needed, Easy to read, Creative and meaningful, Effective and powerful, Spoken from the heart, Optimistic and hopeful, First book, Memories to share, Extension of myself |
| Beauty of the Hummingbird Smallest of birds the hummingbird is, Rapidly flapping its wings. The only bird to fly backwards, and you will never hear them sing. Nectar is what the hummingbird likes, Their bills are long and straight. They also fee upon flowers, and will find themselves a mate. They live for about 10 years, and don’t fly or eat all day. Most of the time they’re resting, Somewhere while at bay. The beauty of the hummingbird, In its colorful array. Makes them fascinating to watch, All day, on any given day. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 4/11/12 |
| A poem about Hope. Just Transfer Just transfer the love I have for you, To a child who never had none. A child who might be suffering, Someone’s daughter or a son. Just transfer the memories I have with you, To anyone who lost their own. Bring happiness into their life, Make it permanent, not a loan. Just transfer the need I have for you, To anyone who needs you there. Allow their needs to be met, and show them that you care. Just transfer these and so much more, To anyone at the end of their rope. Let them find what they’re looking for, but most of all bring them hope. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 4/9/12 |
| Just a fun poem I wrote today. Everything is going well. Nothing bad to report. My recovery is going well, just quiet. Gangster Style Big Daddy Bear to the underworld, Is not a male but really a girl. She’s Mamma Bear, that’s her name, On tough cookies playing their game. She smokes a cigar to be one of the guys, but the smoke is really killing her eyes. She holds her shotgun in the air, In hopes to find someone to scare. Her suit is baggy and doesn’t fit well, That way no one will be able to tell. Her hat and coat are added attire, To conceal the fact that she’s a liar. Big Daddy Bear of gangster style, Will expose her identity in awhile. ‘Cause underneath that suit and vest, Is Big Mamma Bear in her dress. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 4/9/12 |
| My Love Out there from a far, I wished upon a shining star. I wish I could save your life, My best friend, my loving wife. When you’re gone away from me, I pray your soul will be set free. Left behind inside my heart, We will never be apart. Rest in peace my dear, my friend, I will love you beyond the end. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 4/7/12 |
| Any of you dysfunctional? Living in a dysfunctional environment that destructive and disastrous? I came from a very dysfunctional and abuse home. Destruction in Dysfunction Chaos out of control, Craziness on the rise. Life so unmanageable, That nothing’s a surprise. Things are so outrageous, Emotions running wild. Behaviors unpredictable, Actions like a child. Everyone’s needing help, If they’re willing to admit. There’s a major problem, In their family unit. There’s so much destruction, In their lives and in their home. It stifles their own journey, and leaves them all alone. There is no communication, Feelings are hidden well. They go behind your back, and often do rebel. They destroy their inner selves, As well as those around. They stumble and they fall, and stay there on the ground. They don’t know what their doing, but do it very well. Destruction in dysfunction, Is another form of hell. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 4/5/12 |
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created by God continue to light your way and blanket you with his loving warmth from the cold dark path of drugs and alcohol. You Are Awesome =) Take care.
cause I am.... but I relate to what this poem itself is saying. I wish I had an angel, someone to lean on, I guess you can say... but don't think I understood belief in angels et cetera... I guess I am just glad that even in creativity someone can understand what we go through--even if its just a creative fictional level.
