To speak the truth

The words laid on the tip of my tongue,

but I was unable to speak.

My heart was beating faster inside my chest,

And my body started to feel weak.

My hands were sweating and shaking as never before,

The fear started to consume me.

I told myself the truth would set me free,

But wonder if I was lying.

I knew there was but one moment to speak the words,

Despite my fears I had to say them aloud.

They stumbled out uncontrolled, broken.

My face looked shocked; I actually did it.

I stared deep into his eyes looking for hope.

The silence ate away at my stomach like acid.

My deepest fears were realized, my heart exposed.

I was wishing I could erase those last few moments.

The words he spoke next didn’t matter.

I heard, but did not listen, didn’t register.

They weren’t the words I’d prayed for

And the mortification consumed me.

I nodded along to feign understanding.

I waited for that safe moment to escape, melt away.

But worse than the moment of realization,

Was losing out on the dream of what I most desired.

There’s no going back now.

In that one moment I erased my hope, my dreams

And I bulldozed my present reality.

No words can describe the intensity of that pain.

He walked away and I stood frozen, unable to move.

My eyes teared up; I sank to the floor.

I think my heart stopped beating, if but for a moment.

My world pulverized; I bled visibly, deeply, uncontrollably.

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The Night Song

I lie in the backyard, darkness all around me.

Staring up at the night sky, the constellations.

In the background the music plays, I hum along.

I am but a tiny piece of a grander puzzle.

And every day I wish I could give more, be more, do more,

but in the end, I’m simply lucky to be doing anything at all.

In this moment the beauty of the song overtakes me.

I sing aloud and the words consume my soul.

The song is close, personal, true to my life.

The night is my dearest friend.

I’m safe and happy in this world I’ve created for such a short while.

I’m a star too, shining as brightly as those in the sky.

In this moment, my dreams are real; the song is mine.

I am not someone just singing along to any old song,

it’s my anthem, my theme song and I’m singing with the passion of the writer.

My words have power, show pain, show love, show everything.

They are the window to the real me.

And as I sing them the world can see me truly, if not for the night sky sheltering me.

I hide here afraid to shine, afraid to grow.

And when the song ends the star fades away again into the sea of so many.

 

A prayer for the sick

I gaze up at the stars above,

Wishing they could see me through.

Their light could guide me to brighter days,

And melt the darkness of night away.

I’ve heard the fateful words again,

Too much, too soon, too often.

First in a friend whose paid his price,

He fought this battle, now fights it twice.

Then perhaps again in my father.

I’m not sure I can handle another.

This ugly beast, this awful disease

I wish we could erase, oh please.

Lord, I’ve spent so many days trying to understand.

I’ve raised money, I’ve walked, I’ve cried, I’ve held others’ hands.

I’ve prayed in every Church and every corner,

I’ve spent nights in tears or completely dried out.

It never seems to stop touching those I love.

Even I’ve had the words thrown out at me.

Cancer is an evil entity,

And yet it never really dies.

It haunts the worlds of those who’ve known it.

It lurks in the shadows waiting to attack.

It’s beastly in abounding ways.

I keep trying to fight back.

The world has many a great things,

wondrous oceans, jungles, forests.

There are precious children,

Innocent young minds to mold.

Lives to live, love to be had.

but this evil still finds a hold.

It’s true it can make you stronger.

I’ve seen that many times.

But it’s a never-ending battle

Even if the cancer isn’t mine.

Lord tonight I pray,

for all who suffer and for all who’ve hurt

from this dreadful disease.

Lord, take them in your heart and hands,

keep them near and make them whole.

Fill them with love, happiness, and never let go.

 

 

My one bit of wisdom

I was a mold-able child.  My  mother’s fears easily became mine.
It took time for me to see this, to correct this, and memories I can’t unwind.

I missed out on things; I walked away from things, from people solely out of fear.
Worry ruled my world; the path ahead was laid so clear.

Even in times of turmoil, ever I was the peacemaker in my family.
Ironic, since I see life as a battleground awaiting me.

Now it seems as if the daily challenges sometimes are too much to take.
Sometimes I simply wish I could find an escape.

It’s only recently that I have seen how deeply past decisions affected me.
Looking back I realize that my choices have cornered me.

I’m heading down a path unable to turn back, wishing I’d done better, lived more.
My life could be so complete, if only I’d not been afraid to live it to its fullest long before.

If I could impart one bit of wisdom on a young lonely soul,
Maybe help someone else feel just a little bit whole

I’d tell them to remember to never ever be afraid,
In my experience, one’s biggest fear, is the choices we wish we had made.

Growing Old

Behind this strong exterior lies a lonely little child.
I work harder and harder everyday it seems, in my job, in life in general.
And ultimately for what reward, what outcome?
I picture myself growing older.
I see myself with wrinkles, greying hair.
I can feel the aching in my bones already.
I hear the creaking of time as I walk.
I look in the mirror and I can see the future me so clearly.
But she’s looking back at me, sad and disappointed.
She’s desperately trying to tell me how to fill the holes in my heart,
the holes that really matter.
She speaks to me and her mouth moves, but no words can be heard.
I do not have the wisdom yet, the years yet, for the knowledge to be real.
But I know I can’t turn back time.  I know I can’t relive things later.
I desperately want the secrets, the answers, the magical cure.
For next to dying alone, my biggest fear is living alone
or that perhaps I die having hardly lived.

 

“So Ya Had A Bad Day. . . “

Ever feel like you are on the Titanic, reaching desperately for the life boat as it floats away? I think I put too much of myself into work because it is my legacy since I have no husband, no children.  I’m forced to remember how much more important those things are to me.  I try to push that part of me down, aside, whatever.  I focus on work.  I work my butt off.  I put my everything into every aspect of what I do.  It’s who I am and it’s a pale piece of what I wanted to be.  I’m my loneliest when I’m reminded that work is but a job and doesn’t bring me happiness.  I’m my loneliest when work turns on me whether by beating me down with countless thankless hours, additional work as my only reward, or as in today the knowledge that when the ship shinks I will be the captain who never had an anchor, never had the wheel, and never had any fuel.

And as the theme lurks in the back of my mind, all about how one’s heart will go on, it’s abundantly clear to me my heart was broken long ago and the damage never repaired.  I invested myself in my work but was assigned something that could never succeed.  I knew it from day one.  I said it from day one.  I proved it repeatedly.  I used all the right tools to show them the failings, to show them where the path went astray.  In the end the tools don’t matter.  The path doesn’t matter.  All that matters is the end result.  Sad isn’t it?

We teach children that the journey is supposed to matter.  Heck, it should be more important than the end result.  After all, the end does not always justify the means.  All that jazz.  But as adults I’m not convinced everyone believes these teachings.  The world we live in is a bitter angry place and it is every man for himself.

I’m a strong person and when I’m not I act the part.  That actually is probably my biggest weakness here.  People think I’ll be ok.  People think I can take it.  People beat me down mentally, emotionally, publically, because I’m the one person that it won’t touch.  I’m not phased by these things.  I’m strong after all.  It’s ironic that the world falls for such tricks.  That a simple look or a staunch mindset meant to protect us from all the things that broke and beat us before wind up being the things that break us now.

I’m truly at a loss tonight.  I’m saddened by the words ringing in my head from today.  I’m saddened by the evils of this cold dark world.  But I’m most saddened by the reminder that when my time comes, all I’ll have to show for it is a job not always appreciated, not well remembered, and all in all just a job.

And even when I got my rewards or certificates, or some kind of mention of appreciation, I would come home and want desperately to show it to someone.  Tonight I wanted the comfort of knowing that when it all implodes I won’t be alone.  I wanted the comfort of knowing that all my hard work means something, but the truth is it is nothing.  It means nothing.

When I’m old and gray and looking back on life, I’ll be wishing I traveled more.  I want to go to Spain, Italy, speak Spanish again.  I want to be amazed by something not man-made.  I want to be loved.  I want to feel love.  I want to give back said love.  And not because someone tricked me or because it’s supposed to be or because …..I don’t know.

I’ve pretty much failed miserably at the online attempt of recent times.  I gave up after a few short weeks.  It’s just not me.  It feels so forced.  Love shouldn’t be so hard, at least not in the beginning.  Maybe I only know what the movies say, but I want to have that connection with someone.  I don’t care if they aren’t perfect.  I don’t care if they are overweight, heck I’d feel a little less pressure myself maybe.  I don’t care if they have flaws.  Flaws can be beautiful.

When I love someone I give 150% of myself and that is my flaw.  I set myself up to be the one who loves more.  You never want to be the one who loves more.  See they are the one that is left behind.  I never smothered, heck I like my alone time.  I like to think I give plenty of space in a relationship.  Maybe I give too much, so it’s easy to walk away.  I’ve wondered sometimes if I just maybe did some horrible wrong in another life and this God awful loneliness that never quite goes away is my punishment.  Is it so wrong at the end of a horrible day, to just want someone by your side?

If I’m being brutally honest with myself, I disappoint myself.  I need to return to the one thing that heals my soul – my writing.  I’ve been away for a while.  And if my legacy can’t be a great love, or children, or family, or the mark of a wonderful career, or any of those things, maybe just maybe it can be the message I send with my words.  I want to write a book.  I need to work on my poetry collection.  And so I resolve to make it my mission to return to my only true salvation, my writing, my poetry.  I will write the number of poems I need.  Hopefully, some of my followers might even wish to buy my book one day.  But even if the book never sees print and even if the poems reside only here or on paper in a pile somewhere, at least when my time comes, I will leave something behind worth seeing.  I will leave something behind with great meaning.  I will leave a part of me no one quite got to know.  I will leave the most intimate part of my soul.  And I will be proud to have let that piece shine when nothing else could.

 

 

The Christmas Lights

The lights on the tree blink faster and furious.

They are the only lights in the house.

I lay on the couch with the blanket over me, warm.

I stare at the tree in complete and utter silence.

Blink, blink, blink, fade, blink, chase, blink, fade.

I try to turn off my mind, escape my own thoughts.

The lights, the tree, are peaceful.

I slowly look over all the ornaments that tell the story of my past.

The handmade ones of my grandmother,

The crocheted ones from Church,

The angel that has always been my favorite –

Blue, my favorite color, and watching over me.

With a magic wand in her hand as if she could make all right.

There’s a santa for those that want to believe.

There are bears and snowmen for the child in all of us.

There’s whimsy and fun adorning the tree.

There’s silver shining garland lighting up my night.

I remember when you put a tree together one branch at a time.

I remember buying my very first Christmas tree.

I hung ornaments even from my ceiling.

Christmas has always been my favorite time of year,

but as I grew older it’s been a challenge to remember why.

I watch the children open their gifts with glee,

but the day ends as quickly as it came.

Everything you look forward to for months at a time,

suddenly vanished in a heartbeat.

I look over at my father, who has suffered so these last few years.

I see the pain through the half-hearted smile.

I stare up at the angel sitting gently on the top.

I close my eyes and wish again the same wish every time.

Surrounded by loved ones, but none of them really mine.

The world has blest me with so much, yet left me with such holes.

And the toughest of times seem to have come during my most prized holiday.

Breakups and loss, moves and separations.

Family strife and heartache that never quite heals.

Angry words I can’t forget.

Unfeeling letters of deep hatred.

And a death of a dear friend.

These have become some of my holiday memories.

I struggle to push them down and remember the good.

I love the lights, I love the tree.

I love the holiday, the meaning, the smiles on children’s faces.

I love the hope, the anticipation.

But I’ve lost the ability to believe that any of that good could be for me.

I’ve lost the belief that somewhere in it all there’s room to give a gift to me.

I’m so thankful for the people around me, their lives, literally.

I don’t feel I have a right to ask for more.

I hear others say they are depressed at the holiday.

And I get angry because they have it all.

And all I want is to not feel for a while, to let the tree take my pain.

Let the tree light my heart, be my smile, be my everything.

And some nights it works.  The tree can make me whole.

It may be just an oversized decoration,

but it is the one thing from the holiday that isn’t broken.

It is the one memory that isn’t darkened.

It is the one piece that can always bring a smile.

I don’t know why, but the tree is my salvation.

She holds good memories, not bad.

She holds a peace I can’t find much in this world.

She lights a part of me, that desperately needs to see.

And for a short while, the tree completes me.

But my holiday is far from the Christmas’ I once dreamed up.

The hot cocoa and the warm holiday movies,

the holiday carols playing on the stereo.

With not a care in my heart, not a pain in anyone’s eyes.

I long for the innocence that the holiday used to provide.

I long to be the little girl on Christmas morning,

whose only care was what was waiting.

The little girl who sat on Santa’s lap and made a wish

and who knew one day it would come true.

But that little girl is not so little anymore

and the wish never did come true.

But on Christmas Eve in a Church of hundreds,

I sing the songs with faith and love true.

I believe in hope, faith, and all that is good.

I turn off the tree to go to bed and the lights still blink in my closed eyes.

I go to sleep one last night, with the lights shining my heart.

They give me hope I can’t explain.

I just wish it could last.