He wanted a strong woman
a capable woman
a fierce woman
a loving woman
He wanted the fire
the warmth, the mystery
the ambition, the fight
the kind of woman who did not suffer fools
a woman
who knew who she was
who had stared into the depths
of her soul's mirrors
and faced each and every
hideous malformed self-reflection
to find the truth
the bareness
the sacred simple seed
of her
genuine most
unblemished self
she did.
and
she became
formidable.
she had reclaimed
her birthright
her authenticity
her feminine
her masculine
the soft
the hard
the petals
the thorns
the things she could be
and shouldn't be able to be
the ever encompassing
All
And he offered her
the seeming
safe haven
from the world which did not appreciate
her Kind.
He did this,
knowing
his truest
Want
He wanted a woman Perfect
but Not
Perfect for him
Not for others
He wanted a woman who could
and would
carry the weight of his world
on her shoulders
without complaint
despite the heaviness of her own
already attempting
to cripple her posture
chipping away
at her will
to move forward
a will
which renewed
at each
rising sun.
He wanted such a strong woman
that she could handle her own
travesties
alone
And still nuzzle her face against
his indifferent chest
at night
He wanted Athena
Coatlicue
Freya
Kali
he wanted all of these
and more
in her
of her
about her
a swirl of interminable
ferocity
cloaked in clouds
of beauteous gauze
knelt before him
curves draped
in the
silkiest finery
and ankles gripped
in the heaviest shackles
bejeweled as they could be
he wanted her
made up and bound
bundled tidily for him to keep
as a prize
as though she were
a conquest
a gift from the universe
albeit unearned
He wanted a strong woman
forgetting
that they do not remain
the shelf trophy concubines
of weak men
so imagine
his shock
and surprise
when he awoke
alone
the bold electricity
of her aura
having left his home
silent
and cold
he'd find the evenings
just as barren
and the next
and the next
and the next
every day
eyes fluttered open
the mind awakened
the clock
ticking its tocks away
into another
quiet
solitary
empty morning
he'd still blame her
for
being
who she had always been
and whose light
he never
deserved
All because
He wanted a strong woman
until her strength
became the sandpaper
to the thin delicate skin
of the ego
he had been cradling
for decades.
He wanted the woman who didn't suffer fools
except for him
He wanted the woman
who could catch other people's
deceptions
except for his
He wanted a woman
who didn't need anyone
except
for
huh
him
A strong woman
is only as resilient
as her partner
and he
was lacking
On an unassuming
autumn day
much like
every strong woman
who came before her
during their
own seasons
on their own schedules
of their own volition
she left
carrying
So much less
than before
Category: Writing
The Second Death
I am once again mourning the loss of
What Could Have Been.
I have already gone through the grieving process of What Was
the death knell had been knocking,
knocking
knocking
and not quietly at that
there were moments when I thought perhaps we would pull through
the odd flickers of burgeoning life
peaking through the sickly nights
maybe we were not terminal
perhaps there was a chance
we could make it
we WOULD make it
a passing
dwindling
hope
as we continued the road
to expiration
the optimism of idealists
is the first bloom of
false spring
when it is still clearly winter
As our pulse faded
our breath slowing
to make way
for the
Death Rattle...
My tears had long since dried
The Acceptance,
a soothing balm
after the
initial shock,
the frustration fueled discussions
that circled
circled
circled
until they collapsed us into
a depressive heap,
the bargaining
for another day
another way
another chance...
The End was ultimately
The End.
I am comfortable with our passing.
Now I grieve for all
we will never be.
It is a second excruciating death
Far worse
Than the first.
This Tuesday Maybe
you can help me move that dresser out of your place
and into mine
the chest freezer can remain
just a while longer
weighted
with all the frozen meals
prepped months before
for our then
bright and splendid
future
This Tuesday maybe
I can swing by
toss a few more of my belongings
into some of my reusable
grocery bags
and you can watch me
brows scrunched
over your piercing blues
sadly?
with confusion?
regretfully?
with relief?
This Tuesday maybe
we can make idle small talk
while I keep my eyes
averted from yours
focusing only
on the task at hand
erasing my previous presence
from your home
one item at a time
I'll awkwardly joke
now you have your space again
and neither of us
will find the heart
to laugh
This Tuesday maybe
we'll want to give
or receive
a reassuring hug
a tender kiss
promises
that we can find a way
to make this work
anything
to make it hurt
somewhat less
but
we won't.
Not for the lack of
genuine want.
No.
Because lies do not suit us
and what remains
of our love
would never
deign to
lie.
Minnie Sans Moskowitz
The faint,
niggling itch
which began
at the root
of my
subconscious desires
wriggled its way
ever so more insistently
up its stem
fattening
its leaves
attempting to
unfurl
perfumed petals
hungering
to
fully blossom
i stood
wanting for the sun
of you
instead
that un-scratchable
annoyance
still persistent
unrelenting
and now
becoming the bane
of my muddled
existence
the itch
i
could not
scratch
always
just almost
always
never there
you
will never know
that you
are the tickle
upon my
goosebumped flesh
the elusive
almost
the resigned
never
your touch
is
a memory
kept
vibrant and hidden
fertilizing
the soil
within my soul
i look towards the east
but the sun
has since set
i miss being your bloom
one more for the road
you appeared in the hazy fog of a dream my heart believed the dim imagining my mind knew better saw clearly we were not, in fact, sitting on your bed laughing, smiling, catching up with one another this was not reality only fabricated figments my subconscious gave you a large apartment with art furniture and a mess you were in the middle of cleaning you goofed about in efforts to elicit a giggle it worked you plopped down next to me face contrite voice earnest and then you said "i suppose i owe you an apology" even deep in my slumbered state i forgave you my words measured and melancholic, ruefully resigned "oh love, i never wanted an apology. i wanted change." i stood i stooped i gave a whisper of a kiss upon the top of your head and woke up
Commiseration
We were both lost and broken And had given up hope when we met one another Tequila told the truth As we conversed in that booth and got to know more of the other The more we chose to share Of life and love being unfair The closer we soon became The bar lights gleamed bright What to do with the end of our night Both of us the lonely same We ended up falling tipsy into bed But became better friends instead and it's been oh so nice You've since asked what of him I've missed Was it the way he and I kissed His heat melting my ice? Was it his smile or his charm the ease in which he disarmed my defenses - one two three? The way he unmasked my disguise sturdy shovels for eyes digging down to the deep of me... I gave it thought, honest and true I'd not want to lie to you my newest cohort in loss I tried to put into words The tumbled thoughts which occurred And all I could say was - "The ease in which we spoke the stupid silly jokes I miss his sad rueful grin. The way he made me feel Seen, accepted, and real My qualities and my sins... I miss how he made me believe in forgiveness and reprieve That I had been absolved. But mostly, I miss my friend I miss what could have been How we could have evolved." With commiseration you gave a sigh No more talk for tonight Quietly we took our leave I can't help but think of him still Against my best wishes and will I remain unrelieved.
YOU
I still miss you but not the You which is now what has always been I miss the You who looked at me like a newly budded flower on a seemingly dying cactus though I was always very much alive but I liked it the awe the adoration so I let it pass I miss the You who believed in betterment of self even if somewhat unwilling and it perplexed me a moment but I allowed it a slight stumbling block I miss the You who never meant or ever wanted to hurt me though you did and I let it happen because I saw potential galaxies we could rule instead of the handful of stars which to you seemed sufficient I miss the You who I knew you could be The Universe The All The Everlasting Therein lies the rub I don't miss You. I miss the idea of a You. you were never going to be You you... were only a fabrication of my heart's fantastical ideals.
resignation
i've come to accept that romance is best saved for my last dying breath
you’re not gone yet
your scent has left my linen and i can almost pretend there was never a person who shared my bed if only these miscellaneous mementos regretful reminders of you would stop popping up receipts a pair of socks a toothpick with the faint aroma of tea tree oil and mint random pieces of hard candy a puzzle you bought for all of us to do together shadows of you waning at a snail's pace
thursday night
i miss you. i miss you and i don't know why. i don't feel the same way, everything has changed, i'm moving on, having fun, my appetite has returned - everything's great, don't you know? my friends tell me what a great catch i am and as usual, the sharks have sensed blood in the waters of the dating pool and i am being circled circled circled because how long can one delicious piece of meat splash about, arms flailing noticeably and failingly before going under? i miss you, god fuck, i miss you and i hate that random things jump out and remind me of you. and maybe i don't feel the same exact way and i guess a few things have changed, okay to be honest maybe i'm not having all that much fun, i wish i could just jump to being happy again and the fun isn't really fun, it's me slamming 15 shots of top shelf tequila in two hours because jesus fuck christ i want to be NUMB i am playacting at fun. i am the greatest performer in this bar and wow, another shot? sure. why not. the ones buying don't see past my glassy boozed up gaze or the drunken grin permanently affixed, frozen like a department store's front window mannequin. no, i am giggly, jiggly, and wiggly and i may be wobbly but i can see the hunger in the looks being cast at different parts of me, the mouths splitting open so i can see the shine of the whites of their sharpened teeth, jaws ready to gnaw at me, hands to grope and paw at me and fuck this noise i miss you i miss you, your chestnut brown eyes, warm and playful in the light, but mostly sad. so sad it broke my heart every time and still does even now, as only a mind's eye glimpse into my memory chest. i miss you and i miss us and i miss what could have been an exceptional and uplifting love story. i miss making magic in my kitchen for you, watching you enjoy every bite of so much on the plate. i miss how we wrapped ourselves around each other, legs twisted together, pressed so close we were unity i miss you, i miss you, and i miss you. i miss you because i love you and wow, not much has changed has it? i don't think i'm quite ready to move on, though i did give it the old college try. i can eat again but only in the tiniest of portions because sometimes my stomach decides to turn on me. nothing is great, i had to up my sleep dosage. i can't get comfortable in my own bed, your soft snoring was my white noise, i just loved having you near me, you were mine and i was yours and it was the first time in a long time that i felt so certain. you returned my key, yet continue to live rent free in the caverns of my being. i miss you. i want to talk to you. i want to smash my phone to bits so that i can't contact you because i am staring at your name in my contacts, which i should immediately delete, but i can't. i can't i miss you and i'm wondering if i should send you a message to see if you're okay but i know it's just an excuse. i already know the answer is no. because i am not.
