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
Tag: poems
tug of war
Familiarity
the rope which keeps us tethered
The tug of war
between mind and heart
between you and I
stay together
come apart
calloused palms
wounds healed
the blood
long since dried
reddish brown stained fibers
a reminder
of how hard we tried
I want to leave
I try to stay
You hold me close
you push me away
over and over and over
again
I lose
and
you don't win.
this push and pull
never ends.
This Is Not New
It never hurts less. It never "goes away" faster.
The gnawing knot burning in the bowels of the belly
Is that where the heart has fallen? The heat of the unrequited effort
a molten lava organ
searing its way down to the epicenter
of the soul
the stomach sickness
the churning and twisting
the absolute agony
of every memory
every sweet word
every cherished fingertip graze
half-smile
soft snore
cute quirk
all are sharp echoes
stabbing
and
stabbing
and
jesus christ am i bleeding
it never gets easier. familiarity does not bring speed to healing.
the emptiness a hollow of a wound deep and dark with no suture available
or even capable
the gaping pit heaving and undulating, whimpering and whining
crying and spitting
and hands grasp the outer folds
trying to bring it shut
clasp it together
self-soothing
tears in the darkness
while scrambling for anything
to seal the cavernous
maw of pain
so indescribable
fading in and out
how pretty the haze
it helps
remembering when
remembering when
remembering when
head on the lap
a quiet afternoon
the swell of new love
the surety
this is it
we were lost
we have been found
we are everything.
late movies,
staying in bed
curling bodies
big spoon little spoon
face to face
interlocking
unyielding closeness
the screaming and ripping torment of sentimentality brings everything into focus immediately.
but had it stayed that way...
had it stayed that way.
this is not new, but i wish it was.
i could fool myself into thinking
"it will be over soon."
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.
Haiku for a fool
Her cries to the sky
Agonizing against
The aching goodbye
the rain
it’s raining and i miss you.
i wish you knew how extraordinary a thing that is.
the rain talks to me
softest pit-pat of drops against the glass pane
like
a gang of cats jogging across hot summer pavement
too quick to count
slightly silent
save for the rhythm
a staccato in unison
what a paradox
but it’s singing to me
and i think of you
your voice
(sweet songs kissing my ears)
your words
(drowsy mumbled love notes late at night)
and echos of
your laughter
(the happiest of dreams)
it’s raining and my arms feel empty
(where are you)
my hands restless
(i need to touch you)
the gnawing ache in my stomach
(i am empty)
my body is in a frenzied disparate hunger
one which cannot be easily sated
appeased
quelled
so
alone
i listen to the wind
whipping water
at my window
imagining
it’s you next to me
speaking to me
singing to me
whispering to me
instead of
the rain
Dominoes
The ones I loved
The ones I wanted
The ones I lusted
All could give a
flying fig
for me
a history of
chasing men
who had been
nothing but
back alley
beggar boys
sneakily dressed
in much
fancier clothing
just
(faintly squint)
a tiny bit
too large
for their
diminutive
frames
all whilst
my woman’s heart,
devotion,
and
hunger
had remained
far more feeling,
staunch,
and ravenous
And like dominoes
I kept queuing
them up
Each had
been
placed
and
balanced,
precariously
forming that tenuous line
of repeated
fowls and
heartaches.
the fickleness
of the foolish
a test of my
patience
Until I
came to realize
this was
far more trouble
than it
was worth
weary sigh
head tilted
my finger gave
the smallest
poke
to the very first
pip
and
The quiet rhythmic
clacking
soothed
the
*click
*click
*click
of each
falling into the
other
closure,
leaving
a flawless
mess…
a pile
of ivory rectangles
pieces
with no
discernible match
Gingerly,
with care
and reverence
I placed each tenderly
within the case
This was a game
I no longer
cared to play.
Final Vice
I rebuilt myself
I kept the good
Dropped
*an anvil thud*
everything else
Almost.
I gave up dairy
and the smokes
the bourbon
at late night dives
the wine
while vacantly
watching
the telly
pisssssing
away
time
No more sweets
snacks
mid-afternoon donuts
as breakfast
and lunch
sometimes dinner
stopped talking
to the sociopathic
ex
listening
to their
false promises
drenched in
candy covered
shit
The Fair weather
friends
Whom I’ve bled for
While they never
broke a sweat
for
me
I let go
of my past
the mistakes
the self-loathing
the doubts
the hammering anxiety
at the weakening
bark
of my being
I did all of this.
*improvement*
*progress*
*growth*
But there’s still you.
lightly
Heavily
subtly
Obviously
Tearing it all apart.
Time Stops For No One
I write to you…
“I am falling apart
My skin
is running loose
Can you see this?
I am getting old and it
is
showing
the lines around my eyes
they are so thin
and fine
the assassins of the
passing years
no longer
hiding
they have
been
adept
bastards
I have been running
running
running
Yet no amount of diversion
is keeping
time’s
patient
and skilled
murderous
taskmasters
at bay”
You read my letter
chuckle lightly
for
my vanity
is amusing
“We All Age”
There is no one
to hear my
whimpering pleas
I wither and wisp away
dust settling
on the
eaves
The Bottom
Drowning
Gasping
Swallowing gulps of
Desolation
I had a life jacket
Ripped it off
Was so
Constricting
It kept me from swimming
Who knew
I just needed to keep afloat
Now
Sinking to
The Depths
Eyes glazing
over
Pulse slowing
Heart faltering
I will never
See
The Sun Rise
or Set
Again
I did this to myself
