my exterior is tough
weathered
marked by battle scars
as is the heart which beats within my chest
but my bones
are those of the robin
who arrives to signal spring
hollow
airy
easily crushed under foot
you broke my wish bone
with your dishonesty
and now I cannot fly
what good is a bird
who is grounded
they always love someone else
regardless of how much you love them
their heart belongs to another
so either you give your love freely
or not at all
knowing it will never be returned
all the while
adding layers to your outer shell
until you’re a papier-mache person
trying to protect what lies within
with mere paste and newsprint
torn from the social pages
announcing engagements
weddings
anniversaries
but your picture won’t be there
because your black and white world
lies within the obits
as your heart dies a little each day
from lack of reciprocity
You kept quiet about it
stuffed it
so deep down inside of you
it threatened to strangle your innards
ischemic colitis
years of shit you’ve swallowed
backed up
twisted
pieces of you dying
as you struggle to keep living
be a good girl
keep quiet
don’t draw any attention to yourself
with what you wear
or say
or drink
or think
they’re stronger than you
they know better than you
they have more money and power than you
so you shrink
and keep shrinking
now so afraid to stand and speak your truth
all you can manage
is to curl into a ball in the corner
and they kick you when you’re down
add insult to injury
why do you dare to be who you are
and live life on your own terms
Susan B and Elizabeth C
rolling over in their graves
because your body is still not your own
and some men still want to govern it
by wielding their dicks over you like a sword
letting you know
you’re still a second class citizen
who needs to bow down
and shut the fuck up
and remain in your corner
It creeps in silently
on tiptoes of cotton
unbeknownst to me
until it’s screaming
in my head
and filling every cell of my body
with fear
and self-loathing
and I want to take a hammer
and beat it out of me
because tears threaten to over spill
the rims of my eyes
and pour down my cheeks
and I hate them
for thinking they can flow
whenever they want to
and I hate myself even more
because I have no control
over any of it
*What today’s panic attack felt like.
I leave lip prints
where only you can see them
as a reminder
of where my mouth has been
I cover myself with fingerprint powder
so I can see the
whorls
loops
and arches
your hands left upon my feverish skin
Clues
in the crimes of passion we commit
in our minds
Cigar smoke
is suspended in the air
as is the impression of my red lips
on the side of the bourbon glass
what started as friendly conversation
and side splitting laughter
has led to abandoned articles of clothing
a trail
ending at the big four poster bed
in the cabin in the woods
where we secretly meet
to touch the deepest parts of each other
which no one else has touched in such a long time
no man has ever found
my broken to be beautiful
they’ve only used the cracks
to slip their lies into me
as they offer a hand to stand
so they can then pull the rug out from under me
stay down
they say
you’re not fit to walk amongst us
the beautiful
the blessed
the best
it has been decreed
you shall forever be
the bullied girl on the playground
(no one coming to your rescue)
with no place to escape
because the monkey bars are too high
and I’m afraid of heights
how long until my skin
becomes paper
thin as the crepe de chine
abandoned in the back of your closet
full of moth holes
forgotten after Senior Prom ’65
where once there was buoyancy
and the ability to reproduce
now the organism
withers and dies
starving
void of the nourishment
of human touch
if only you could
wrap it up in tissue
and send it to me special delivery
the words
‘handle with care’
stamped upon my battered flesh (instead of the box it arrives in)
and whispered in my brain
ad nauseam
like a broken record
daring you to heal
what was long since destroyed
by angry hands
They tore it down
along with everything
that was left of us
rafters exposed
building bones stripped bare
of everything once held dear
(love)
(respect)
(laughter)
left exposed to the elements
to warp and rot
ofttimes the way love does
too much space left in between
the studs
16, 24
the years pushing them further apart
instead of bringing them closer together
cracks
in the foundation of promises
shingles pulled back from the roof
after weathering too many storms and harsh words
which couldn’t be repaired once spoken
leaving a breach
for the rains to permeate
and fester
the black mold
which brought it all down
Gray
is the color of my heart
until you bleed life blood back into it
red
like the flush of my lips
like the paint on my nails
seeking
the warmth of your skin
the taste of the martini left in your mouth
Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.
i've choked on my words for far too long
It's not the length of life, but the depth.
This is my mind, it’s not supposed to make sense.
Where Sarcasm Gets Drunk and Lets Its Hair Down
Shining the light of truth on delusion
Researching, investigating, and writing about the paranormal.
You either get it... or you don't.
Inky blackness, a yawning void ~
"Eye Fly High"
A weekly series edited by Jena Schwartz
Read. Ingest the words. Like little blue pills, they will affect you.
the stories behind the pictures, and vice versa
Just my thoughts for all to behold
FOR DISCERNING READERS
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A baking and dessert blog.
Writer, Tarot Reader, Designer
a little bit of this and a little bit of that
Seeking Beauty Beyond the Scars
The home of Emma O'Brien
The musings of a scorpion who would have been an eagle
I blog now. I know, I can't believe it either.
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 