Selected Too Late

Selected Too Late

Funny how I remember only
the hugs when you were leaving
the smiles when we made love
and the joy we saw in each other
when it came to the babies

I miss you

not for your presence I lack
but for what our connection could bring
a friendship I couldn’t fathom
put me in its harness
as you tried to tame
a beast without a whip

although your kisses were strong
passion, your weapon
worn down like holed tennis shoes
I was succumbing to your power
only too late would I realize
you were already gone

Ball of Confusion

Ball of Confusion

staring back in my rear view
your smiling scowl
filled with warmth and retribution

one part acceptance
one part jaded
dagger in the heart fixed
with jagged edges rammed
deep for good measure

I seek solace in kisses
no longer conforming
to my lips
in eyes that once created
calm, now mimic fire starters

I want to hold you still
complete you by building
bridges over the infestation
I helped release

then I zoom in focus
with innocence undefined
your mistakes mingle with mine
dancing a tango I’ve never mastered
then I see it

the relief I seek
lives within me

Should Be Thankful But

I should have plenty to be thankful for this year–the reinvention of a spirit that has been broken and scarred since childhood has been very tough mentally to address but I have. So many emotions I have overcome to finally start addressing the problem (and I have few folks I can thank for that).  I guess I have always been unappreciative though; always looking for more or the next big thing, dubbing myself the ultimate opportunist.  This is just different. I feel my unhappiness in the pit of my stomach. So much so, I’m feeling sick right now. 

The holidays and everyday for that matter, should be spent with people that fill your heart the most and while I am thankful for the new additions in my life, I still cherish and love, with everything in me, the ones I can no longer touch. That, alone, brings forth a pain that I can’t escape.

Stranger Intervention

Stranger Intervention

I wake up thirsting
to kiss a stranger
comfy in her feel
perfection in her smile

the brush of her fingers sparked
the reinvention of a spirit scathed
by past trials
undoing the justice brought
down by judgment’s gavel

but I smell freedom now
clear and crisp as a country’s night air
un-complicating the thought
of breathing again

she says I can simply be me

Journal Entry #22

For so long I have used my love for another as a base or guage on how well I’m doing in life.  This has caused me to be unfulfilled and, in a lot of cases, miss out on what life has had to offer me, including true love.  It hurts me to know that because of my lack of self-appreciation and holding myself to such a high, unattainable standard, I have forced some really great people to think that I’m not worth the struggle.  My rage has left me broken and lonely, but for so long, it was the only emotion that gave me true peace; the sense that no one could hurt me. However, I see how much I was hurting me. Ruining chance after chance to be loved by not only someone else, but by me.

As I climb this mountain, sweating and out of breath, I know the real battle is at the top.  This is what I have waited for, but avoided.  This is where I see just how much I can endure; just how much I can allow myself to love me. This is where I prove to myself life isn’t that bad and I can have real friends, real love within myself and for others.  The true test that will define me.

For What I Can’t Forgive

For What I Can’t Forgive

tucked behind these rusty pipes
that’s been kicked bent
and left to rot
I can no longer see

with hands cuffed
behind me
placing their purrs
just out of reach
I struggle to get free

been brewing
this concoction of heartache
turned hatred then love
for some time

chemical imbalances change
my consistency repeatedly
wired to my torture chamber
of memories

tears stream
for desperation not heard

for what I can’t forgive
I lay awake in shameful despair

True.Love.Waits

True.Love.Waits

I twirl your purity between
my thumb and forefinger
wishing I could wash away
regrets in Epsom salt and hot water

instead I etched 
in skin above my heart
your symbol
given to me out of innocence

remembering life’s past
through tears and smiles
holds tightly
no ill will
but the presence
of a toddler’s first Christmas

your sunshine gave me light
nourishment for my soul
to gain new life

I hold on to you
conscious or not
bleeding
on this chopping block
waiting on my rock
I thought I couldn’t break