Some loved her for her smile Others for her charm Some loved her style And how she adorned their arms One loved her cooking Some her soft heart The few that were looking Appreciated that part One found her clever And loved her quick wit Searching for Forever Convincing themselves She was It Never did one love her All Good, Bad, Fixed, Broken They remained blindly enthralled By traits they had chosen Yet each she loved in turn Hoping this time Love would stick She never could discern The Healthy from the Sick. She looked past the lies Ignored the flags of red Even as they grew in size "Oh, it's all in my head." One day her heart turned to stone Tired of her self-betrayal She would rather be alone Than love One who was unable To love her complete The gold and the muck The bitter and the sweet In motion or stuck. She would sooner wrap her hands around the sun Than be falsely loved by yet another one or some.
little by little
the wheels have been put into motion as the night goes long and my fingers fidget i laugh small short soft i've no ring to pawn pass on tuck away in a small box pushed to the back of a drawer to be forgotten until it is remembered during sad solitary sauvignon nights no so contemplation continues there was never a proposal the 'big rock" moment joyous tears speech impeding shock the announcement and following picture to the circle of friends oohing and aahing the phone call to parents sharing the same jubilant surprise no just an obligatory acceptance of wedding the mother of his children i would like to think he loved me i would like to believe i was more than a live-in maid nanny chef personal assistant i would like to hope that it wasn't all for naught yet i don't i can't i won't instead i will keep churning the crank operating the cold and tired machine rickety yet integral to and capable of shattering the shackles which once bound me to him
yet again
one would think I'd have given up by now the hopes of a union where I was a person not property to be treated the way I treat them with compassion empathy understanding to be loved the way I love with acceptance and kindness but bumps do not deter me the flaws and follies of others are not my responsibility the coldness and underlying meanness do not phase me as I've dealt with far worse I will simply keep going as I always have I've a lot to accomplish in so little time and if another stumbles onto my path choosing to walk along side me I'll let them until they, too find issue with the direction I'm heading the fact that I'm still walking and not hailing a cab and when they start to pick away at how I can be getting to where I'm going much more efficiently (to them) I'll listen respectfully and continue my journey the way I see fit whether they choose to be a part of it or decide to disengage is not a concern I'll not be pushed to alter my course or mode of transport I'll arrive when and where I need to with or without a companion
Tia Molly
I kissed two fingers and then pressed them upon her cold surprisingly smooth forehead my boys kneeling beside me kept quiet no one told them to they seemed to gather the gravity of grief all on their own I didn't expect the tears she and I weren't close yet there I was crying the heaviness pervaded my being I knew immediately I was heartbroken for the ones she left behind friends children but mostly her sisters... just as tiny and frail just as angry just as hopeful just as loved just as stubborn in the face of lives which never came easy I sobbed. Here it was. Mortality. the blinding awareness of my warm two fingers pulsing while pressed against her cold and surprisingly smooth forehead
ripley
i peer at her on the quiet days black ink white paper a treasured sketch a gift which I'll never part with sometimes i think today is the day i will take the picture out of the frame read the message left behind it i haven't though so many of those days have passed and i've come to accept the reality i'll never do it i am not nearly as strong as all that
a kind of happiness
the day idly spent minding the steady tail twitch of my kit-kat clock
scrolling through
a photo of him grinning with a friend interrupted her afternoon of apathetic time wasting doom scrolling through political soundbites cartoons status updates announcing mostly the mundane and nestled between all of the nonsense there he was a snapshot he next to a gorgeous gal strands of his hair catching the wind eyes squinted against the sun smiling for the selfie and she was given the unwelcome reminder of the lost friendship the absence of being seen to the depths of her core by someone once considered Real and True making her also feel Real and True she didn't linger long the disconnect the indifference made this an easy pass good for him, living life... she thought remembering all the things she had wanted to do to explore to discover to talk over to dream about with him she kept swiping through knowing they only loved the idealized versions they had created of each other and that made it oh not so bad but damn if losing his companionship as a confidante didn't still Sting something Fierce
Electric
i see the glitter a glimpse into the eyes they are live wires shimmery specks of splendiferous shine fuzzing about the periphery of the pupils joyous crackles crinkling the corners happiness pure and present pouring abundantly out in a tiny grateful glance to be sighted and swallowed through such an ecstatic lens quickens the pulse i am dizzy and brought to much needed life
Unmuted
my love has always been quiet paw prints left new on freshly fallen snow shadowed cutouts upon the gauzy glittered mat the chill waft of the incoming storm-soaked wind cooling the beads of summer sweat on the shoulders of the worn the sizzle of the kindling feeding the small fire constant and dependable the gift subtle yet generous perhaps this is why i am flummoxed peace meets peace... and the world turns upside down the passion ensuing the blizzard brilliant and dangerous phenomenally blanketing all in crystalline splendor paw prints lost tenderly forgotten during kisses long urgent and soft the warmth of hearts colliding thunderous crackles the branches shaking to keep from roots dislodging as torrents pelt the peasant ground we splash in muddied puddles laughing in hysterics because why not your hand in mine flames flickering upward and outward silver slivers tinted white golden blue sparks splintering the darkness there is a blaze and we are the old the dying curling into smoke burning to ash ultimately rising anew my love has always been quiet until with you
July 3rd and I can’t sleep
I miss them all
despite the tears broken words spilling out into the vacuum of indifference guttural cries in the dark alone the cat dismayed at such overly dramatic displays of the Once Again coupled with the I'll Never Learn i do miss them not with the longing of what is lost forever nor the sentimentality of all the previous love's hazy rosy eyed gazes i miss the moments that were brand new sparkling gleaming like chrome before familiarity before we disappointed one another when we were unreal not of this realm this mortal plane no we were celestial beings odd outsiders crazy puzzle pieces fitting in a way quite unlike the others i miss the stars in our smiles i miss the way a small touch could set our skin on fire i miss the quiet breathing of sleep next to my awake the songs we hummed to the conversations during long rainy afternoons i miss the hops in our laughter every day being a better day because we were in it together i find i miss them most during the quiet nights my solitude, my haven the silence reminds me that i am alone so i miss them those who took my time, my space, my love, and nurtured it until it was no longer worth the effort yet i am made only that much more aware i miss the Me i always was in the beginning the most