Detrimental Pause

I still sense the aroma
of cinnamon and disgust,
musty memories

that linger

when I raise the window
for fresh air,

to pause,

to disturb this darkness
that never fails

to creep in
through the cracks;
those similarities

that arise in a sunrise,
in lyrics,
blades of morning grass,
swaying daffodils

and anything
that makes me smile

just to see it fade away.

 

~

Unauthorized Biography

I wonder in what universe
your myths were created;
biased recall
accepted at face value,

tales, twisted, manipulated
and hung out to dry
with your dirty laundry
pinned up and pitiful
as the fair-weathered farewells.

Love left, unreciprocated
and forgotten
as the counterfeit paper
between us.

~

Where Sadness Should Flee

I have run out of anger
for all of the third Sundays in June,
the unblown candles in April,
and absent memories
of you.

I have a song in my belly,
a lump in my throat,

and violins stealing my air.

Just let me sigh
at every bride
with you on her arm,

each touching scene
at the cinema
when every eye in the house
is dry,
but mine,

all the what if’s
and could have beens

and help me remember
when I fall,
when I am not worthy,
when everyone else fails me.

to look up
toward the one constant,
the glimmer of hope
swirling love

forgiving, eternal,
unconditional

love.

~

Final Edit

Perhaps, I could just delete
those chapters,
(just the pages with you in them,)
white – out the dark participles
and cruel adjectives;

just save the good parts

like lullabies,
tiny hands,
tiny feet taking first steps,
recitals,
and anything to do
with love,

but it would be a short book

and I,
I would not be strong enough
to let you know
that you didn’t destroy me,
you didn’t even leave a scar!

You just gave me new skin

and this heart-
bruised, broken,
but beating . . .

and full of light.

~

~day 21 of a poem a day in April challenge for NaPoMo

Ghost

Step out of my sun
and take every dark thought
with you.

I found these stars
many moons ago
before your cloud of despair
hovered in

falling aimlessly
upon my dreams,
redirecting joy
into pools of gray

until I came up singing

but, it was a long way back
into the light.

~

~day 16 of a poem a day in April challenge for NaPoMo

Write You

They say
watch what my lips say.
I may regret these adjectives,
moments after,

so I will just write you
into next week

when wounds are healed

and words
are out of the equation.

~

~day 11 poem for a poem a day in April for NaPoMo (National Poetry Month)

Unabridged

There is a piece of me missing
that once served as a crutch;
nurturing fingers

to bridge the gap;

self diagnosed co-dependency
correlated directly

between heart and fate.

I knew I would sail away one day
in nothing but the battered boat I rode in on,

twirling tresses through stars
mimicking the foggy distance
between your misconceptions of love
and my long awaited realization
of your manipulation.

So I fly, unafraid;
this uninhibited,
unabridged edition

of me,

~

Sweet Sorrow

You are the tremble when I am alone,
that lingering fear that won’t subside,
the nightmare that intrudes on my sleep,
memories that make me feel sick inside.

the little voice that says I’m not good enough
and will never realize my dreams.
You took the sun, the moon
and the stars from my eyes;
left my heart bursting at the seams.

You are the pain in my children’s sighs
the scars I continue to bear,
the darkness I try to leave behind,
the rumors, the lies, the stares.

You are the misery that pushed me
to finally say goodbye,
the courage to walk out the door
and the desperation to fly.

~

Look in the Mirror

Pointing fingers,
fingers pointing
to everyone but yourself.
Blame is an easy exit,
no traffic and accessible
from any angle.

What angle
will you access next?

I flick away your daggers
like mosquitos, eyes closed, flailing
until you run out of ammunition,
and just when you think you have me
in a corner, I claw my way out,

bounce back, like your lies will
when truth floats to the surface.

Rumors are superficial
and my skin is getting thick
like the air when you speak,
but, at the end of the day,
we both have mirrors.

What do you see in yours?

~

She Didn’t Even Mind the Rain

She left everything
but the clothes on her back
and a notebook of poetry
written in hindsight,

tiptoed into the light,
barefoot and wet
just like she came in.

~

Snag

Years pass, seasons change; leaves,
green to gold, gold to brown, falling
like the stars did when she left.
Petals, blossom, wilt, and bloom again.
Everything changes, grows, moves on,
everything, but you.

~

Toxic

It was never real.
You were never real
and “we” were only an aftermath
of your lies;

your pleading, manipulative
eyes.

Oh, this could never be called
a “mistake.”
It was intentional as thunder
only much more potent.

Every word from your lips
is poison.

Even this poem is turning toxic

and the sad thing is
you won’t even admit
you were wrong.

~