Push

There had always been boys, even when she wasn't sure if they even noticed her. But they were always there, in the background as she walked through her life. There were the boys in jail, the boys that lied about having children, the boys that started sweet but ended up making her feel smaller than she ever had in her whole life. There were the men that had used her and left her. There were the men that tried to fill the void in her life that was left, but never succeeded because she wouldn't let them close enough. There were the men that she was able to kick out of her bed after a night of amazing sex, knowing they had outlived their purposes.

There were twelve men that had shared her bed. Only six weren't one-night stands. Three had called her the "perfect girl" because she wouldn't get emotionally attached, but could hold her own against them. One had started to break through her walls before she saw the dragon that was threatening her existence.

And then there was him.

He'd been there for years, longer than any of the twelve. He'd seen her fall, had even pushed her down at times, but had helped her up when she needed to. He'd broken her heart, but mended it more times than she could count. He'd been her best friend, her confidant, her lover.

But he'd always been a runner. Chasing the future, running in fear from her complications.

She used to laugh at the way he would get so bent out of shape, simply because she was more experienced than he was. She used to tell him that, given time, he would surpass the other twelve. She used to try to tell him that the physical aspect didn't matter, the past men in her life didn't matter.

The only thing that mattered to her was him. The way he made her feel. The way his kisses would send her head spinning. The way his arms would lift her off the counter, holding her against his body. His gentle aggressiveness. Even when they hadn't talked in years, she always felt secure with him. It felt effortless, ideal, whenever they would see each other.

It would be the little things, like watching his face as he slept. Waking him up with a cup of coffee. Feeling his lips on her cheek as he came to bed in the middle of the night. His smile that he would flash at her as he made her eggs for breakfast. To her, it always felt so right, so perfect.

He had always been her best friend. More than anything else, she could always count on his advice, even when they were on separate sides of the universe.

***

She could feel the pain in his voice as it came through the phone. She'd heard it many times before, but this time she wasn't sure what to make of it.

"I still have yet to hear those words come out of your mouth!"

You need me to say them for you to know that I love you? Her fingers dug into the phone, her brain had slowed to a crawl. Where did this come from?


"I gotta go. I need sleep, and you need to think."

As those words left his mouth, they hit her solar plexus, taking all the breath from her body and leaving her feeling lightheaded.

She had started calling him by his full name, something she only did with him when she was angry or hurt. He didn't seem to notice.

"I love you."
That tone sure doesn't say that.
"I love you, too, Jay."

She hung up the phone, and sat beside her garden.

We're three hundred miles apart, he's still dealing with me being a mom,we're not even dating and he doesn't trust me. What kind of fucked up relationship is this?


In the back of her head, she could hear music playing.


"This is exactly what happened last time and it’s not what we deserve
It’s a, it’s a waste of my time lately.
And I’m running out of words.
If it’s really meant to be than you can find a way to see,
Maybe you should just shut up
Even when it gets tough
Baby ‘cause this is love.
And you know when push comes to shove
It’s gonna take the both of us
Baby, this is love"


She looked down at the now-silent phone in her hand.
"Can you handle it when things get tough, or are you just going to push me down, Jay? Because this would be so much easier if we just stuck through it."

the struggle

long steely fingers
that delve
and manipulate
confusing
a healthy mind

playing
off the weakness
found inside
a tainted
soul
that longs for
forgiveness

she looks in the mirror
and can't see
past her own mistakes
from yesterday

she sees
the whore
the liar
the jezebel
and she knows
they'll never leave

her demons
attached
at the seams
of her very soul

she wants
to beg forgiveness
to be cleansed
as pure as driven snow

but how can she?
her own flesh
demands to be fulfilled
and so
weakling that she is
she gives in
sacrificing
to keep her demons
content
knowing she's only hurting
herself

she struggles
every moment
to overthrow the monsters
wanting to externalize
the internal turmoil

she's looking for help
can't you see that?
she's begging forgiveness
knowing she's unworthy
but hoping
all the same
for that grace

she's dying
in this struggle
for her soul

Help her

Help ME

DEAR GOD,
PLEASE.

sacrificial life

faith
family
integrity

i have sacrificed
all that
i was
for what i thought
would last

a family
false as pyrite
not worth the mica
but among
those plastic beads
a tiny
grain of sand

a pearl
in the making

but for that pearl
i gave up
EVERYTHING


how
can i teach my daughter
to be like
tempered steel
when i folded
and lost?

the girl i was
three years ago
would
kick my ass

for who
i
have become

today

Pinball

He arrives.
It's Sunday morning
or early afternoon.
And she
is packed up
and shuffled

like a pinball

and for six days
I'm broken
incomplete
because my heart
is gone

it's like
Open Heart Surgery
without the anesthetic

Only it's worse.

repeat, replay

i promised
myself
this wouldn't happen again

these delusions
and dreams
have already broken my heart
twice

but he still
has this hold on my heart
and i don't think
he knows it.

or perhaps he does
and continues
to play me
for the fool that i am.

and he'd be right
about me
and what i do to myself

i give
everything
completely

i'm used
abused
and left
because he doesn't want
things to change

i'm the best friend
that will always be there
pussy in a glass case

WHY
do i do this to myself??

life

the confusion
stress
beauty
and unforgetfulness of a life
still not complete

you say you're content
and happy
but really?
how do you know that
without a
shadow of a doubt?

me?
i used to feel
guilty
because i wanted more
than what i had

now
just call me what you think
i am

selfish
ambiguous
hypocritical

because I'm done
walking on eggshells
for fear that I might
disturb the universe

evolution of a wordsmith

stories scare me
and it's quite simple
why.
too long
drawn-out
and changes that never stop


one's reached its climax
but still not finished
i've changed
with my characters
now they're too
naive
simple
boring


so i go back
revise 
add
subtract
learn
change


and the process starts
again

poetry
is simpler:
thoughts
taken from the air
and pieced together
in no particular pattern


but it still
somehow
makes sense to a 
complex personality


so i stick
to jotting down thoughts
for now at least

until
a character's growth
will no longer need revising

random Purpose

I love what she called it
Random art
like there is no purpose
only
the whimsical pleasure
of an art student

but I disagree
I say
there is a purpose
for
random
      art
      acts of service
      accidents
everything
that we don't expect

the only thing
we need to do
is find
what it means
to ME.

reminiscent

can you feel
the wind
caressing my skin?
or the sun
warming my hair?

are you here yet
in this world where
i feel as isolated
as that
lone wolf in the forest

it's hard to breathe.
but whether it's
the constriction
or
the emotion
i can't really tell.

it's been so long
since i've seen your face
but it barely feels like
it was only yesterday

some might say that
music
and
poetry
are nothing more than a medium
to the other planes of life

i'm not sure anymore.
i just know
with maybe
a bit of doubt
that you've forgiven me

and though
i'm not quite sure why
i'll try to trust
your judgement