Watching someone fade
Is like building a sand castle,
With bare hands and dry sand.
It takes a lot of energy,
To be naive.
To be constantly hopeful.
Grains of sand
Are cups of tea,
A Sunday morning donut,
A smile on a face,
They are what keeps you going,
What keeps you building the towers,
That stand guard against the rolling black clouds off shore,
Until all you are doing is looking up.
Unaware of the ground crumbling beneath you,
Unaware of why the castle is getting smaller,
Unaware of why a laugh is making you feel uneasy,
But you knew.
You knew before your soul wanted know,
You knew that it was all slipping through your fingers,
Like dry sand and bare hands,
You lost all control.
Now a laugh is a symptom,
A donut is now a reminder,
Of what could make you smile,
And tea is what I have when I think of you.
Tag Archives: life
Watching someone fade
In the morning,
I start with my eyes,
Creating them like artwork,
I have accidental confidence,
I have gotten real good,
At creating a mirage,
I apply the primer,
You need a clean slate,
To begin any change,
You know the advice,
Show the world what you want them to see,
They will see it,
I move from the outside in,
Making it bold but natural,
Don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard,
Well, I got real good,
At making myself,
Appear to be someone else.
Picking a color is important,
You want your eye color to pop,
So they can see the twinkle in your eye,
The first time I was told I was confident
I wanted them to elaborate on their view,
Give me a glimpse of my persona,
When you get to the inside,
Apply a nice shimmery color,
That’s where the shadows naturally fall,
I have a pretty face,
A name that is easily remembered,
I have a naturally kind soul,
Blend into your brow bone,
Make sure it doesn’t look like clip art,
They should look like they want to belong,
I turned into an iceberg,
My eyes above water,
Below the water line, deceiving.
Mascara finishes the look,
Those lashes are the curtains,
To the show behind it all,
I have learned to hypnotize,
The colors, the shimmers,
All do their jobs,
I should be pleased,
That you don’t see
My ununiformed to society body,
You insisted that I ride the rollercoaster,
I faked motion sickness,
You accepted that.
Accidental confidence is a product
Of learning how to decipher the code
To be accepted among the masses.
When you pull me into a trendy store,
I don’t have money; I have too much in my closet,
I’m too lazy to try on clothes today,
So when I bat my eye lashes,
I wait for the day when you
Don’t just stop at the gate.
I need you to stroll the grounds,
The curves and hidden pathways,
From the rose garden to the dark forest,
I love that you don’t need to see more to love me,
But I need you to see more of me to love me.
A laugh and a smile
“Why did you keep this?” I asked
I was looking over the drawing,
Amused at the colors and hard press lines
I still haven’t learned that a little can go a long ways,
Our triangular pink dresses and our big box blue shoes,
Both me and mom,
Oh the style I thought we had,
And there, my brother,
Shirt and shorts, identical red
And big black belt in between.
She looked at me with soft eyes.
“Eventually he disappeared from the drawings”
A double take,
Widened my search,
Hiding in the corner,
Above the square house with a perfect triangular roof,
Bright green stick figure with spiked purple hair,
A set of brown wings coming off your thin torso,
Smiling in all your glory.
Years hang between me and the paper,
An invisible timeline from then to now,
Oh the innocence of words,
Written in tiny rainbow letters.
I have learned about life with out you,
I wish I decorated you with style
But I guess you don’t need clothes up there.
I know where you live.
Over between confident and insecure.
Your house takes up the entire block.
Monday to Thursday,
You live in the right wing,
Relishing time to yourself,
Until alone becomes lonely,
But on Friday,
You do a cartwheel to the left wing,
Where you are a superhero,
An angel by day, fighting crime by night,
You could conquer the world.
You say hello to a stranger,
Allow someone to invade your personal space
by sipping coffee at a table next to yours,
You make a joke with the barista,
Watch the sunset through your iphone lens,
Have drinks at a crowded bar with your friends,
Lead your group to the corner booth, you on the inside.
By Sunday night, You are crawling back to your hollow abode,
energy depleted, proud of your accomplishments in the world,
You went all out, had real experiences.
By the next morning,
you are back being unassured,
wondering if the barista laughs at everyones jokes,
Was the sun really those bright colors, or was it just a filter?
Would that guy you had been eyeing,
the one with the blue eyes and smile so wide,
have approached if your heart hadn’t gone silent?
You have pride in being a strong, independent woman,
but are you strong
if you can’t control your thoughts,
if your actions are based on the weather?
Are you independent, or just alone?
I have to tell you,
it is strong to know what you can handle,
to work with where you are,
it is an accomplishment to understand recovery,
You…I am a strong, independent woman,
who knows where I live.
Every poem that begins,
Sounds like a eulogy
That I will have to give.
I can’t paint you
Into a thousand words
Watercolors always bleed
One thought into another.
The mind doesn’t allow
The ignoring of obvious possibilities.
Imagination, a child’s play thing,
The child being my anxiety,
My mind the playground,
The ground is lava.
My hands are always slipping
Across the monkey bars.
Is this insanity?
Maybe if I will it hard enough,
Lily pads will appear beneath my toes,
Will I be strong enough to let go
And trust that everything won’t burn?
I’m pink with the rising heat
Someone has a basketball
It vibrates though my body.
It is not me.
It is not me.
It can not be me.
Hanging above a deathlike pit,
Allows your mind to wander.
Imagine the tips of my fingers
As mini concrete cinder blocks,
Holding me in the air,
Like a circus trick.
I hold all my strength in my hands,
Out in the open for people to see,
If they wish to acknowledge it,
Strength can be intimidating.
Better to be left unsaid.
Better to fly across the monkey bars,
Show your flair and speed,
Those are qualities they want to see,
It is weakness to struggle.
Even if that struggle,
Means hanging everyday,
Thump, thump, thump,
Heart is always racing in your ears,
A reminder you are alive,
Keeping on the pressure,
With the rising heat,
That you must not let go.
Isn’t that strength?
Never letting go.
Even though it would be easier,
To get some long deserved relief.
So, my words can keep sounding,
Like a eulogy that I will have to give,
But I’ll use them as gloves,
To keep my self up in the air.
I see what you did there.
Now, that I am in the clear,
But then, I couldn’t see past my tears.
The pain had created a wall,
In between my anxiety and reason,
Closing any backdoor to gain insight
To what you could clearly see,
But I trusted you blindly,
Even if that meant I was running into mirrors.
If I had still been there now,
It just seems implausible,
Like a chapter that doesn’t flow
With the rest of my story,
To be analyzed for eternity for its existence.
You saw where it would all go wrong,
You decided to rip out my heart six chapters early.
No anesthesia or scalpel.
Small waves still wash over the scar
That was left by your hand,
As if you panicked mid scene,
Suddenly aware of the time line,
A car heading into oncoming traffic,
The only thought was to put it to a halt,
You reached into the spine,
Pulling at the true beat of the story,
The melody was fading.
It needed a refresher,
A course in Who Am I 101,
I was at a standstill,
I couldn’t move from A to B,
A malfunction in the wiring,
Looping back around to the starting point,
The part was good,
But it didn’t know how to be selfish,
It needed to learn to request new elements.
So I see what you did there,
You saved me.
I would have been too fargone,
Lost completely to a world,
Where I want to accompany the melody,
My story is flowing at full speed,
I know my purpose.
I forgive you for ripping me apart,
The pain now just a reminder.
I’m praying again.
You must be tired of my voice
I wouldn’t waste your time,
It is for her.
These prayers are all I have,
I’m getting lost trying to help,
You could bring her so much comfort,
So strong and positive,
She will use every last breath to fight,
But hasn’t she fought enough?
Trial after trial,
She needs a vacation from trying to survive,
So she can desperately live
On the other side of the glass window.
It’s a waste for people to not see her soul,
To keep something so beautiful locked up,
I have witnesses who can attest to her character,
But you should know her well,
She is filled with your light,
aching so badly to shine.