Category: poetry

Respite

When the hurt is overwhelming, I sink inside my mind.

In that moment, the mixture, the symphony is respite.

The soft of one, hard of the other.
The chivalry of one, demands of the other.
The gentle words of one, the harsh curses of the other.
The sweet hopes of one, the dark fantasies of the other.

It’ll never be, my dark knight in white armor. It’s just a dream.

To accept the limitations,
To enjoy the experimentations,
To tolerate the lack of ministrations,
To be at peace with adaptations.

My neediness resigned. My fantasy remains hidden. My world in reality?

Is the love enough to curse the hurt away?
Is his heart strong, can it keep mine in play?
Can the needs of our family keep my needs at bay?
Can MY heart handle this constant sway?

These chains that keep me, bind me, to a life I should hold dear, are they deformed?

The reality is simple, the fantasy complex,
The reality neglects, the fantasy expects,
The reality agrees, the fantasy objects,
The reality is limited, the fantasy reflects.

In this moment, the mixture, the symphony, is respite.

But then the hurt returns.

And I do it again.

I torture myself.

For neither has an end.

Happy Girls

If you ever see a photo of yourself laughing and wish you looked that good all the time…
If you ever just feel terrible, and don’t think anything could lift your spirits…
If you ever hurt, inside your heart, in the way that women know all too well…
If you ever look in the mirror and hate what you see…
If you ever cry yourself to sleep and wake up in the morning with puffy eyes and blotchy skin…
If you ever stand in front of your lover and wonder why you don’t see heat in their eyes…

Smile, pretty girl.

Smile the kind of smile that reaches your eyes and your heart.
Smile the kind of smile that makes your jaw ache.
Smile the kind of smile that feels wrong and false until it doesn’t.
Smile the kind of smile that you get when you dream.
Smile the kind of smile that your mother, child, best friend or puppy gets to see everyday.
Smile the kind of smile that says, “fuck me, I want you.”

Just Smile, pretty girl.

Because no matter what is going on,
That Smile will make it better.

(click through on the picture for an amazing article from The Golden Girl)

Wasted Words

For far too long, they went unsaid.
Piling and crowding, inside my head.

Now, it seems, they flow with ease.
But still, they miss their mark to please.

They escape in torrents, flooding space.
But those they are meant for, dodge them with grace.

So, once again, my voice goes unheard,
My mind bogged down, with wasted words.