top of page
Bella & the Beast.png

Welcome Aboard!

--"Izzy, how did you start dancing?"

--"What got you into martial arts?"

--"What kind of dancer/martial artist/writer are you?

--"How do you deal with brain damage, bodily injury and 

     C-PTSD, yet still dance, write, train, live the way you do?"

--"How do you still find joy and beauty amidst pain and loss?"

--"Wow, you should write your memoirs!" 

    This Is My Story

NSFW, 18+

  • Writer's pictureBella Dancer

I AM ANTI-NEO - A Poem About Falling

What the fuck am I doing?

I have no clue anymore

I especially don't know why

I pace this ledge

And its crumbling edge

That flirts with the open sky

It's all right there above me

My old, shiny world

Dancin' Queen

Prancin' Thing

Ferocious kitten full of rawr

That (fallen) fae poster child


You didn't actually want the answers to those questions

Did you?

Naw, you just wanted me to confirm your answers

Your fantasies

Your bullshit vision of what you thought

I was made of

Sugar and spice and

Naughty and nice and

Plumped full of little boys' toys

I'm full, all right.

Full of it.

Full of shit and stuffed with your hit and

The shockwaves are still crumbling this ledge

Clawed my way up here

After that first time

And the second and--

How many lives do kitty-cats get?

Broke off all my nails but this one

And a half


So you can clap furiously

And ask curiously

And butt-sniff me seriously

Hoping I'll wink mysteriously but always keep my big trap shut?

I suppose I could keep climbing

It's not that far outta reach

You can't see me right now, but rest assured, that thought has inspired me to gesture wholly unsatisfactory male masturbation while sniggering like a twelve-year-old at the way my squeaky-chair squeaks in time with my lewd




😈 Highlight of my day. 😈

I'm so entertained by myself I don't notice

The ledge gives way



Down we plummet

My wise ass, my smart mouth, and me

I snap open my wings--


Just an animal reflex

Survival mechanism cranking open

Alas, all the feathers have gone to dust

My wing remnants crumble as they must

Forgotten comet streaming a long black tail


Nothing but skeleton in winged guise

Fuck it.

I get myself turned around

Face down


Leering clown

My wing-bones clatter shut

Do the Superman thing



Ankles pressed tight

Twinkle-toes pointed

I am Neo

(but not neoly as cool, for I lack his black jacket and don't hack it that well)

I must be Anti-Neo

My bladed hands spear space

Picking up speed now




Gritting teeth

My fists clench at the last second


Ask me later where I landed when the dust finally settles.

I still have no fucking clue.


I just dreamed that as I started to doze off.

I AM NEO: I created this playlist while lying on my dance studio floor because I couldn't walk for a week. Day after day I meditated to this playlist. Once I could hobble, I decided that fuck it, I was going to that retreat in Spain even if I had to do it in a wheelchair. (Which I did through the airports.) Even if they had to carry me down the mountain every day (which they had offered to do on the ATV.) Alas, the ATV broke, so two sisters helped me like crutches instead. Until I no longer needed help.


--UP NEXT: AFFIRMATIONS - A to Z - linking thought to movement

--OR if you like my poetry there's more of it HERE.


Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page