November 24, 2017

Where do you live my friend?

Do you live in the past, spending each day mired in the pain of regret and shame?

Or are you fully embracing this spiritual journey that you are on?

What do you mean you are not on a spiritual journey. You were born, weren’t you?

All of us are born free and whole. We ARE. And very quickly the world we live in shackles us with the mindset that we must HAVE and we must BE or we ARE NOT.

And suddenly we are weighed down with cares that don’t even belong to us and we forget that we ARE. We hide from ourselves. We fill ourselves with falseness searching for that thing that is already there, that thing that we forgot.

So I ask you, dear reader, where do you live?

Have you embraced this journey and the knowledge that you ARE?

Or are you too busy working on BEING and HAVING?

Take some time today to sit quietly, close your eyes and go back.

Go back to the beginning until you remember…


Now hold tight to that and bring it back with you to the here and now.

Remember, you ARE.

Don’t believe me?

You’re breathing, aren’t you?

Of course, you ARE.

Babble, bubble, let go of your trouble

November 20, 2017

Stop stressing girl, let it go.

Just open up to the flow.

Feel the Universe pouring through your veins, now loosen up the reins.

Give it up, the stress is twisting

your perception of the lovely life you’re living.

That river of sadness runs deep in you, but your happiness babbles like a brook

tripping over your own heart.

Laughter, ever after, joy pouring out.

No doubt.

Nothing in the ‘verse gonna keep you down.

It’s a hard knock life, but knock and the door will open up too.

New possibilities if you only walk through.

Move into you. Stay true.

Put a smile on your face, step into your own grace.

Beautiful inside and out.

Scream and shout.

Girl, you know what you’re about.

Now breathe in, breathe out.

Stretch and grow, don’ cha know.

Be thankful, gratitude is more than a platitude.

It’s your whole damn attitude.

Wake each day, a million ways to fail, to start again, to get it right.

Fight the good fight.

See the world with your heart light.

It’s gonna be all right.

Lay your head on your pillow tonight.

Sleep tight.

And don’t let the bed bugs bite.

Am I right?

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November 17, 2017

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I found my anger today…

November 2, 2017

It was right where I left it. In high school.

Tell the truth.


Walking, walking, Nirvana spilling into my ears. Angry, so angry. Walk faster, push the bricks beneath my feet into the earth. Push. Wanting, wanting. Come as you are. But not like that. That’s not lady-like. All the time. But the bible says. Don’t be that, be this. What will people think? Tracey Lee Besemer! All the time. So busy with Jesus, singing, arms raised, lost in your ecstatic shame orgasm. Just bring me along for the ride. I don’t want to go. You are going, young lady. No, Tracey. Shame, shame. Yours spilling into me. It’s mine now. Your gift. Mother. Take it back, take it all back. Not me, I told you, that’s not me. You didn’t care. You didn’t listen. Be this, not that. Jesus certainly didn’t care. No one’s listening to you. There’s no one there. Crying baby, empty faith, post-partum depleted, rock bottom bleeding bible. Get up, get up off your knees. Unclasp your praying hands. He’s not there. No one is there. Save yourself, save yourself. Open bible, ripping pages. All the pages, like snow in the bedroom. Are you crazy? Maybe I am. I am okay. You aren’t the one. I am the one. Be the savior. Remove the scales from my eyes, so small, so trite. Laugh, laughing, spit out the lie. Lukewarm faith. No faith. Spit it out. There are no pearls, just swine. I am. I will be. No more crying. Stop crying! I’ll give you something to cry about! Cancer, it’s cancer. She’s going to die. No, I’m not, I’m going to fight it, you’ll see. She’s going to die. You stopped growing, it had to go somewhere. Oh my god! No, he’s your god, not mine. I am not that. You never could see. Be this, not that. No! You be this. I am. I am! You killed yourself. All the things you said no to. Yes. I say yes. But the bible says. Smash them, smash your cd’s. Satan’s music. Only sluts wear eyeliner. Tears, tears pulling dark lines down my face. Trifles, nonsense. Satan’s tools. No, your hands were idle, not mine. Mine were tied, you tied them. Tied my hands. Be THIS, not THAT! Get out, get out of my head. You are not real. You are not her. You are the echo of my mother’s shame. You are my own cancer. I am the savior, in my name I cast you out! But the bible says. Tracey Lee Besemer! Your face is gone, only four years, it’s gone. Washed away. Your voice. My name. My name is not my own. In my head, it still belongs to you. You speak it, scream it. I see your face now, screwed up in anger. It is never my voice. Be this, not that. You should have asked if I wanted to be a lady. I don’t. Tracey Lee Besemer! Out! Get out! You are dead! You died so I could live, I paid for your sins. It is MY name. Call on His name. Claim His name. His name is Power. No. My name is power. But the bible says. Mine, my name. Resurrect. You stay down. You be this, not that. I am. I am Tracey Lee Besemer. Fuck yeah! My own Savior. Not a lady. I am fierce. The bricks shudder from the trod of my boot. I am this, not that. I have found my anger. I will not miss you today. Today I will spit on your grave.  Today I will listen to Satan’s music with dark eyeliner and a smile. Piss off, mother. Take your shame and your disappointment with you. It doesn’t belong to me. I cast you out. Clean your room, young lady. Jesus is watching you. He has turned a blind eye to me. Put down your god damned stones, mother, or they will drag you down to the bottom.