Category Archives: poetry

When it’s real… 

Right now,  somewhere,  some poor kid is falling in love for the first time, and it’s likely it won’t last forever.  I think pretty much everyone is born a romantic.  when we’re young,  we all have these ideals of what love is supposed to be. A fairytale that has been pounded into our heads or entire lives that isn’t realistic and seems to take ud by surprise when we learn that life just doesn’t usually work that way. but still,  young, niave and hopeful, we keep going.  clinging. just trying to force things to fit but it just. ..doesn’t.  

First loves are the purest. they are free of the baggage and skepticism that crush those ideals and sabotage our relationships. when that first love is lost,  you lose a huge chunk of yourself and you can literally feel it being ripped from your chest.  then you spend the rest of your days wandering aimlessly and blindfolded,  slamming into everything until someone takes your hand and lifts the cloth that’s pressed firmly against your eyes. a brand new face and then suddenly those ideals come creeping and you feel that heart pounding,  head rushing, tummy fluttering feeling and swear you’re hearing wedding bells and seeing fireworks.  still skeptical, you try to make sense of it thinking maybe it’s just my senses playing tricks on me.  My equilibrium is thrown off because It’s no longer dark,  my ears are ringing, I’m dizzy, it’s only because I can see again. some immediately reach for rose tinted glasses to make things seem to fit their original idea of love. 

I’m SO guilty of all of these things. I was left crippled by my first heartbreak and never fully recovered. every relationship after that one the blindfold stayed intact for the entire time. 
But then, one day, 2 major relationships, one broken engagement, a child, and twenty years later,  after consuming 2 cheap bottles of wine and a package of menthols armed with my smartphone and the Facebook app, I decided to do a little snooping (like I had done at least a dozen times before) on my first love. 

Last I’d seen, he was happily married and had been for the last decade, and had a son. I searched for him with no avail, so decided to check out the “wife’s”  Facebook profile only to find that although she still had his name, she was pictured with a different man and there were only a couple of pictures that were visible in which none of them included him or the children (which I found out later they had a second son) 
So panicked, thinking my one true love had perished tragically in some horrific accident, I found his mother and sent her a private message. 3 days went by and I got a response. not from her, but him! we arranged to meet the following day and when I ran up to hug him, that blindfold just slipped from my face and that part of me that always seemed to be missing, popped right back into place. 

We became inseparable. we’ve been together for 6 months. we are already living together and my heart still skips a beat when he texts or calls me from work, when I hear the door open and he walks through, and we still grasp and hold each other tight for at least a minute when he comes home. 

I’m so very lucky. I have never had such a feeling of completion. We’re actually HAPPY. Not just content… we’re truly happy. I never thought this was in the cards for me. I sure as hell never thought I would end up with him. 
He’s taken my son as his own. my son is autistic and is quite the handful but my love has helped us with a steady hand and I couldn’t be more grateful. 

I hope everyone gets to experience this. 

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I’m sinking

The ground has given to the weight upon me. The weight that is me.  So much wine flowing through my veins my very presents opens a fault line under my achey toes. I bear down, but the earth just crumbles to sand as I desperately try to keep my head from being buried beneath the rubble.  The destruction and chaos that myself alone am responsible for.  I am the driver of the vessel that barrels through the crowd of people, losing control,  losing myself and taking everyone down in the process.  I’m not a nice person.  At least not if you are close to me. Or as close as you let me.  If i love you,  i will shut you out.  I will pick fights with you because you have gotten to me.  You have me at a point that I am no longer in control. You CAN hurt me. And you will.  But the only one to blame is me.  I’m shutting you out because you don’t understand me
Nobody does.  I should be alone, but I can’t be alone.  I don’t want to hurt.  I don’t want to freak out.  I don’t want to be crazy. 

But I am.  I’m fucking nuts. 

If I can’t find something,  i scream,  i cry,  i punch walls, doors,  if i could get by with it,  I’d punch myself.  I’m no picnic. I’m the eye of the hurricane.  I’m the olive sky before a tornado. I’m the brilliant lights of lightning as it strikes your dwelling. I’m the girl that wants to be better; wants to do better, wants to be good enough and not like my head and heart are tangled and and ripping eachother apart.  like my whole life is ending everytime there is a bump in the pavement, a crack in the sidewalk or a pebble in my shoe. Someone help me.  pllease god…help me. I’m defective.  I’m destructive,  my pain is contagious. I leave all I touch writhing in agony.  My tears are as acidic as the phrases that dance off the tip of my tongue. My pretty mouth will  frame words that will paint everything as red as my lipstick. My hands are cold and tremble, and will freeze one to the core. Hearts freeze and shatter like mine did.  I’m contagious.

And then…

I lay in bed, with my stomach turning and my heart sinking deeper into my the deepest pit of my stomach wondering why. Why don’t you believe in me? what is it about me that makes me so unworthy of your trust? I wonder why you don’t seem to care how I’m feeling.  My soul is dying, and you don’t even seem to notice the flicker of fire  that once danced in my eyes is now just cinder.   when you’re away,  sometimes I just need a person to talk to.  Someone to distract me from the loathing i feel sweep over me when I look in the mirror. All of the broken pieces of myself at your feet, but instead of helping me scoop it up and put me back together,  you just swept those pieces under the rug.  I keep moving forward,  wounded,  hoping you’ll slow down and recognize that I’m bleeding.  I wait for you to ask me if I’m okay, but instead,  you point out my flaws, those missing pieces and imperfections.

You don’t understand nor do you want to. I just want you to care if whether or not I’m okay.  But most of all, I just want to BE okay.

Torn to shreds

The tiny Fragments lay down at My aching feet that scramble. My vacant chest holds nothing but panic. There are no words or phrases that can Express what I’m feeling right now. 

I’m struck with grief, guilt and regret. I’m failing.  A thousand reasons to give up,  but I can’t.  I’m a mother. My feelings are null. A dirty girl searching for an answer, a steady hand to hold and a single night’s sleep.  Begging to be understood. 

Damnation

Affiliation and impersonation, consolation and determination lead to unification

Manipulation disguised as adoration  then fertilization and insemination.

Realization followed by termination in  with justification in fear of deformation.

then devastation.

Now deviation, defamation, consolidation,  revocation.  Humiliation.  Mortification. 

Devastation. 
Devastation
Regret and devastation.

Over it.

You know when someone hurts you, over and over, and like a doormat, you lie there while they wipe the shit off their shoes into the fibers of your soul, and yet, you still just crave their acceptance and approval? You think about them all the time. They reject you, pull you back in, throw you back out, and on and on it goes.

I haven’t spoken to the one whom played this obdurate charade upon my heart in months. Sure…it was difficult to endure the deafening silence…But I’m okay! I’m just fine! I’m breathing. I’m laughing and smiling…I’m living. I’m really living.

Sure,I think about him from time to time, how supposedly he’s married to a 17 year old, but now, I’m no longer ambivalent. I’m no longer baffled and befuddled.
Im no longer flummoxed and flustered, perplexed and perturbed. At least not about him. But most of all, no longer in a timorous state of self loathing. I wish him the best. I’m no longer angry.

After being single…I mean REALLY single, without him calling me everyday making me feel guilty for ever leaving my home, and seeing what my options really were… they’re amazing, impressive, intelligent and beautiful men that wanted to be with me…I realized, I can do better. And I have. I have a boyfriend now…will it last? Who knows. But I’m enjoying him. He’s a wonderful man. He calms me. Makes me laugh. and I love spending time with him. The best part…He is just as interested in my son as I am. He pays attention to the therapists, implementing everything they say and do into his interaction with him, he cares. I don’t know if I love him. I know he loves me, because he tells me every day. I’m finally being treated how I deserve. I’m happy and so grateful. 

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Still raw

Thinking of you Rob… I miss your laugh, your hugs, your smile, your eyes…your voice. My annual vacation was not without void, to say the least. I can still hear you in the back of my head warding me away from bad decisions. You’ve taken it upon yourself to protect me from myself just like you used to. I’m growing stronger each and every day. But…I don’t want to because I’m scared the second I do, I won’t hear you anymore. I’ve been fortunate enough to hear your voice since your passing… others wish they could. I wish I could make that happen for them but I can’t.

As you know, I have recently had my heart broken, yet again, from the same person that has broken it again and again over the passed 3 years.the pain has lessened but now and then, he crosses my mind and I have to fight from itching that scratch to send another email that will go unanswered. I am no longer going to give him a MOMENT of my time. And I’m happy to say, I sometimes go days without him crossing my mind. I know I’m okay sans andrew. I’m okay. I’ve met someone. We’re only friends thus far, but it could turn into something. He knows the things I need and is willing to meet those needs happily. He’s been helping me all weekend with household repairs and house work and just returns my thanks by saying “thank you for letting me hang out with you and Brady. It couldn’t get any better than this.”  True appreciation from someone whom truly cares. He actually bought me a stun gun to protect myself from my crazy ex whom has ruined almost every aspect of my life as a matter of fact, the reason he’s been helping me so much is because I got a call from cps because of her. Because we got into a fight and the police were called. The woman that contacted me will be here on Tuesday. I’m beyond nervous. If I lose my baby, the only person I truly care if is in my life, I’ll have nothing to live for. My son is my everything. 

Rob, if somehow, you get this message, please, please watch over us on Tuesday. Have my back. You know how much I love Brady. And I love you too. I miss your face. I miss you so fucking much Rob. I’m grateful that I was fortunate enough to know you, to be close to you and love you.

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