Monthly Archives: July 2017

She is made of ravens and wolves. She moves like midnight. Stumbling in her dark, I feel the hot breath of mortality against my cheek. I chained her struggle beneath my skin until I learned that she made me —not prey —not pray. Her claw and bite marks form a dream catcher of scars withinContinue reading “Beautiful Nightmare”

Warrior, the Shades can torture only those who acquiesce. Do not look back, for Love will follow you from Hell if you endure. ©2017 I.O. Kirkwood. All Rights Reserved. #fallingtoblack

WARNING: This is a very sensitive, even volatile, subject. If you want to respond, please do so when your rational mind is engaged. Step away, think about how you feel, and comment appropriately. Be respectful, be kind, and be informed. Mr. Cornell most likely committed suicide because he was on an anti-depressant that made himContinue reading “SUICIDE: How You Can Help Yourself”

  I traced your inked skin with my fingers, studied the history of your hell, plucked the piercings that recreated your pain, that displayed your shame. I could not protect you from the Monster under the bed who, on occasion, joined the family at the breakfast table and sipped coffee. Your anger poisoned the pranaContinue reading “The Alchemist”

One time, I thought I was clinically depressed and my mother cajoled me into driving an hour to her house. I hadn’t showered for several days, relying instead on a “European” bath of baby wipes and wet washcloths. I hadn’t spoken to her in weeks (!). I stripped out of the sleep pants and tee-shirtContinue reading “Part One: How Untreated Bipolar II Presents to Those Who Love You”

I dreamed your blood-stained flesh, a wound of Promethean Shame. The scythe of Janus haunted your days. Dressed only in the skin granted by the Furies, you sought me, Mnemosyne, the source of Redemption. I am the whisper in your mind, the sleep into which you fall to escape the swallowing Dark. I will seeContinue reading “Memory”

  Take up the Grail, my Love, and drink. A creature of stardust and broken glass, You crawled under my skin. You braved the labyrinth of my pain To find the cavern of misery at the core. The Yang of your flame conjures a star in the Yin of my darkness, Reveals the dormant jewelContinue reading “Drink My Heart”

  I am mentally ill. That’s the official diagnosis. It’s a genetic predisposition and can’t be “cured” because the medical community is still researching the connection between genes, the wiring of the brain, and the interaction of the previous conditions with the environment. Materialism has disconnected medical “experts” from the wisdom of the ancients. IContinue reading “The Hidden Illness: Bipolar II”