When our father died,
My brother was 4,
To the viewing
He wore a batman costume:
Cape, mask, and all.
So, that he could fly up to the heavens.
Our mother dies.
He’s 26,
He wears a different kind of cape:
White shirt, black tie
Shoulders back, head high,
Standing in the same room.
Oh, the relief it would be
To give him back his innocence,
To lift the weight of grief.
He is so strong,
He and I against the world,
I would carry it all for him.
So, that he could learn to fly again.
Filed under free write, Poetry
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.
Filed under Poetry
You decimate my impulse control
with a glance in my direction,
causing me not to feel a swoon,
but the need to punch you in the face.
I’m not a violent person,
my blood pressure elevates
until it pushes all common sense
out of my finger tips.
I’m no longer human,
just a vessel filled to the brim
with memories and emotions
of everytime you wronged me.
I hate what I become.
A zombie with red eyes
my only goal in afterlife
is to bash your brains.
I swear this is not me,
just a horrible recipe.
I added faith and kindness,
I expected human decency,
What I got was society,
brown and bubbling
it’s fragrance toxic to the mind.
You are their best accomplishment.
They praise you for being
decisive and independent.
You do not run by people’s expectations,
what a revolutionary.
I am too innocent, they say,
Rose-colored glasses on my nose,
I am foolish
to expect the golden rule.
I am just a second chance,
no worries, extra-mile,
works late on fridays,
smiles at strangers girl.
So, I’ll just pull my sunglasses down,
my eyes turn into sunsets,
fueled by the fire behind them,
to prove you wrong.
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.
Filed under Poetry
Wind waves pass,
Saying hello,
The house stays still,
Not wanting to play,
Ignoring the breath,
Staining the window.
Only the sound of time,
Remnants of moments,
That were once inviting,
Now covered in layers,
of distance and neglect.
A shell
Of a life once lived,
Etched with meaning,
Within its organs.
Trees are ever changing,
Waiting for a jolt,
From a storm or
An awaiting rainbow,
To bring a pulse,
Back into it’s walls,
And the wind,
Will come dancing through
As an old friend.
Filed under Poetry
The sliding glass door opens.
They stop a few steps in the door.
Their eyes adjusting to the busy atmosphere.
I try to guess who is who,
They look so small, so innocent.
So many people moving in all directions,
Voices loud and unnerving,
Everyone with a purpose, a destination,
Ordered Chaos, I call it.
They begin gesturing towards maps and signs,
Looking for clarity,
This is a place of questioning,
Clouds of whys travel behind smiles of frequent flyers.
For every sun that can break through,
it helps ignore the cold that hangs at our feet.
They won’t remember my face,
Theirs will be etched in my mind,
I know what they will eventually need,
No surprise when they end up at my desk with bashful eyes,
Oh, how I hope they are that bright when they return,
I want to gather them in my arms,
but I have to tell them,
as carefree as possible,
as if it won’t change their lives,
Elevator to floor 3,
Follow the signs,
For Cancer Research.
Filed under Poetry
Today, I was stupid,
I was a human,
I made a human mistake,
A simple miscommunication,
A word slipped past my ear,
too much going on,
it missed it’s exit,
So, I end up stumbling,
blind to the quick sand at my feet,
until its up to my neck,
I had a moment to decide,
to sink or swim,
My heart feels like its going to explode,
hours after the sand has seceded,
I feel as though I am sinking,
but
I swam,
I swam,
I swam.
Filed under Poetry
I wait for you to finish your thought,
the next one and the next,
I sit, patiently,
until my spine can no longer support my back,
I wait for you to ask me a question,
anything, just something to acknowledge,
I still exist somewhere in the back of a dusty filing cabinet.
I’m tired of leaving bread crumbs,
hoping you pick up the trail of my desperate heart,
I feel stupid needing some validation.
I am quiet, I know,
but my head is always busy, see,
I need you to help me let some of the voices escape,
One bounces off another,
I forget which one is the original,
Ask me how I am,
or how work is going, or how I like my tea,
or if i’m sleeping, if my mom is doing okay,
if I need anything, if I need a break,
if I am eating, if I am here,
something to pull me out of my own head,
maybe the voice that responds will be mine.
Ask me if I know what I am doing,
I have been doing a great bit of pretending,
fake confidence till you make it, they say,
I have been faking a lot of everything lately,
but I never guessed that I could have fooled you,
Filed under Poetry
The fan turns,
and turns
and turns,
until it’s swirls of greys and whites
A transporter in time,
My eyes close,
I can see your sleepy smile,
Hear your shallow breathing,
Feel the weight of your arm on my hip,
Aftershave drifts across the pillows,
I’m slipping,
For a moment, I forget the trick,
Until I wake to a room too bright,
With all of the covers,
You used to turn off the light.
Filed under Poetry
There is something
in the way you linger
through every room
in my heart
but the key
is how you are missing
with reaching fingers
and empty air.
Filed under Poetry
An Everyday Girl's Outlet 