Poetry

Forgotten Things

Just over the hill is an old house
Nothing special about her, really
Aside from her mere existence
Yet, her appearance elicits a gasp
She is plain, but regal
When the glint of the sun hits just right
Her many windows render her splendiferous
At other times, they are like eyes
Watching you, following you
Seeing through you and learning your secrets
But, unbeknownst to the naked eye
Her foundation is crumbling

I step inside the house
I’m not interested in the winding staircase
The large, ornate rooms
The places where laughter once rang
I want to know her secrets, too
I find the attic, pull down the door
The ladder creaks like old bones
I fear they may break as I climb
The sight inside is not beautiful
Nor is it heartbreaking
It is a shrine to indifference
There are things
Little things and big things
Little knickknacks and little nothings
Memories suffocated by dust and left behind
Making friends with cobwebs and spiders

I feel at home here in the quiet
Making my way through the boxes
Trying not to disturb the years layered here
Lest I give life to lifelessness
Hope of rememberance
There!
In the corner!
An empty space that’s just my size
She knew I was coming
I inhabit my designated space
My place among the forgotten things
This old house
She will love us
Long after we crack and break from disuse
She will hold us
Long after the sun goes down

Poetry

Lying in Wait

I wish that you could see me now
I hope that a glance would tug at your heartstrings
Summon the memories you’ve suppressed
The me you’ve forgotten
The you that you were with me
These brown eyes would undo you with a stare
Not a penance stare
In fact, not one I could describe with words
But, you and I would know
We know what lies between us

I am a wilted rose
Winter has not come
The seed of life has not ceased
But, I refuse its care
I had learned to know every petal
To laugh in the rain
And under your gaze
I became even more extraordinary
In full bloom for the world to admire
But belonged only to you
I gave you me
Entwined my thorns with your own
We were broken
Yet, we understood
Rather than kill each other
We grew together
I became fearless
You fearful
Now I wait under the glass for a miracle
For you to stop searching for more than magic
I am not enchanted or enchanting
But, I will bloom for no one but you
I wait

Do you remember my spectacular nature?
The lack of normalcy that attracted you?
If only I’d known how normal you were
How very ordinary
I would’ve kept passion and lust at bay
I would’ve kept love in my bones
I would’ve only given you this temple of a body
My only thoughts of you
Would be of your touch in unspoken places
Of the way I opened for you
Of my kiss in other unspoken places
Of the silence after
Of heavy sighs of contentment
Not of sorrowful ones

We were a brief moment in eternity
A reason for this existential existence
The last glimpse of the sunset before the night
Before reality set in
You are my favorite star in the dark
The one that illuminates me
The one to whom I bare my soul
Not to God
Not to the angels
But they receive the peripheral privilege of this gift
I gaze upon the other specks of light in the sky
I compare them to you
For all I know, you could already be dead
And I’m gazing on the last vestiges of your life
Before you burned out
Before you left me
In death and life, you shine brighter than the others
I cannot look away
So focused am I on you romanticized memory
That I probably wouldn’t notice if you came back

Poetry

Word of the Day – Smithereens

Smithereens
That’s what’s you left behind
Pieces so small they turned to dust
Even now that I’m together again
I’m still a fragment of myself
A girl with one eye
Half a black heart
Yet, I’m awake
Scarred, but standing tall
Broken, but not over
Not fearless…
Quite scared, actually…
Yet, I’ll take in the sunlight and rain
Eventually, I might bloom again
Someone ready and worthy will pick me
Have eyes only for me
Cherish the beauty you could see
But could not love


Slowly becoming more consistent again. Thanks for hanging around and for the encouragement. Special shout out to you, Ruth! You always miss me. 🤗


I had a rough year and change. Still working my way back to the light. Happy to have my WP family. I’ll get back to reading and commenting soon. Love you guys! 💛

Poetry

The Words, Part 2

I long to speak the words
My heart overflows with them
Arteries clog and blood pools
The words catch in my throat
The pressure rises
I hold in all that needs to be said
To spare your feelings
To protect my own
I’m a silent muse
Observing everyone’s false reality
Purported in pictures and fake smiles
No one talks
They lie with their eyes
With the words they type

Should I loosen the rope?
Unravel the knots I’ve tied down my soul with?
Nothing erotic about this asphyxiation
Just a slow death
Watching the truth dissipate
Into something we’re not sure ever existed

I want to tell you about me
But can you handle the truth?
Can you handle all I am?
Or do you prefer me mute?
Do you prefer lost sheep?

It is your loss
My words are music
A classical symphony that at its crescendo
Will take hold of you like a lover
Off my tongue play notes
That stimulate your groin
And simultaneously your mind
I am the purity your ears have been missing
The song of honesty you’ve forgotten

You are not ready for me, though
Or maybe I have devolved
Into a shy, restrained thing
That even I don’t recognize
One no longer capable of speech
I’ll sit over here in the corner
Living life like a reprimand
Listening to the lint on the air
Hearing everything no one is saying

Poetry

The Dress

The dress
The shoes
Do you remember them?
They are the same
As the last time I saw you
I’m maybe a little chunkier
My hair a little shorter
(Isn’t that how it always goes in the movies
To show the passage of time?)
Am I wiser?
I’d like to think so, but don’t we all?
My heart’s a little more healed
Except the piece that belongs to you
Still, I put on this dress
That I haven’t worn since you
That I want to wear for no one but you
In it, I relive the memory
The moment, the kiss
The fleeting feeling of forever
The last of what we had
Now, I want to shed this dress
Kick off these shoes
Shed the remnants of you that cling to this attire
Purge you from my pores
When I put on this pink dress again
Step into these turquoise heels
It won’t be for you
Or anyone else
It will be for me
A lie?
Maybe…
Because I’ll never forget your eyes
When they saw this dress
These shoes
When they last saw me

Poetry

This Is Us

This is us, darling
Whether you accept it or not
This is who we are
Lost in this entropic existence
We stumbled upon one another
In each other, we saw ourselves
The reflection was too much
Too real
Too invasive
You shattered the mirror and ran
Because you’re not ready to see you
In turn, you shattered me
But I cannot see me without you
Our love was for a reason
You hide in your denial
Here I am in plain sight
Within grasp
Waiting for you
To not fear your own reflection
To not fear me


It occurred to me as I wrote this that it could be interpreted a number of ways, as poetry often is. What’s your interpretation? I’m curious and I also want to reconnect with my WP family. I’ve been missing… Not in action. Just missing.

Poetry

Raven

I try to put my thoughts to bed
But they are hyper
Girded for battle
Bloodthirsty
Bury the hatchet, they say
I could bury it in my own brain
Attempt to silence the madness
Hide my carcass and insanity behind walls
But, the heartbeat lives on
The tick of intrusiveness never ceases
It gives me away
Shake it off, they say
But, I’m not Swift
The hurts are not so easy to forget
They linger, laugh at death
They are reborn again and again
When I’m awake
And in my dreams
I wish the Raven gone
But it implores to be heard
Over and over again
Must I endure its piercing eyes?
Must I never forget?
Oh, how I wish I could

Poetry

Awake, Part 22

You too, old friend?
Have you also come to torment my dreams?
In them, we embrace
Cry over lost time
Then, I wake
Realize you’re still gone
Cry over lost time
Cry over old times
Cry knowing there’ll be no more time
The Ides of March approach…
But my dreams lie
You will not be here
Either to love me or kill me
You would not be so kind
Still I fear what is to come
I fear knowing nothing more
Than waking up alone
With only the false comforts
Of my traitorous dreams

Poetry

Dry

I remember the way
Your fingers felt on my lips
How they tasted on my tongue
How they crept down my skin
I was moist from both me and you
It was sensual, scintillating…
Now I am dry, barren inside and out
All I feel is the cool air
And hear your name on the wind

Poetry

Untitled…

If I could be
Half of what you think I am
I could fly to the moon
It may be that I am
All that you see in me
But I’m too in my head
To see my own glory
I think you’re all that I have
I think without you
I don’t stand a chance
The truth is
I haven’t learned to love me
How can I really love you
When I haven’t learned to be me?