The Poetry Marathon

Sitting in the living room
Listening about your day
Giving my best advice
And words of comfort
A lull in conversation
I begin to speak
Sharing about my day
But you don’t seem to hear me
I stop mid sentence
Wondering if you will notice
My silence
You don’t

It’s hard to explain
The way I feel inside when
A song hits just right

I’m really not sure
If it’s the music or words
Something just hits right

And I am obsessed

I have come to learn
Fairytales don’t mean a thing
To a broken heart

There’s beauty in the weird
Beauty in standing out
Beauty in being your own person
Do not fear it
Embrace it
Own it

One show, two shows
Three shows, four
Being a theatre girl
Is what I am, what I love

Five shows, six shows
Seven shows, more
If I’m not doing theatre
Am I really worthwhile?

Eight shows, nine shows
Ten shows…

STOP

Breathe

Find yourself again
The parts beyond the theatre
The parts you loved before
The parts you have forgotten

You are a theatre girl, yes
But you are so much more

I wish to find a love like fire
That burns right through my soul
That reaches beyond physical desire
A love with which to grow old

I wish to find a love like air
That caresses my very skin
That runs its fingers through my hair
Causing my lips to grin

I wish to find a love like water
Flowing freely, no holding back
That makes me feel sought after
That doesn’t care what I lack

I wish to find a love like earth
Rich as good soil, cleansing
That helps me see my worth
That fits me, without pretending

I wish to find an elemental love

Lying on the floor
Too exhausted to move
My tears have all escaped
The carpet just barely dry
The room is getting brighter
As seeping through the blinds
The first rays of morning
Make their way into my world
Stretching forth across the floor
Reminding me how
No matter the darkness of the night
Daylight always comes

There once was a faerie child
Of golden hair and small size
With an impish grin
And mischief in her eyes

How she loved to run through forests
And climb the tall, tall trees
And laugh as her hair danced
Amid the summer’s breeze

One day her path was crossed
By a human of kind nature
The faerie child was shy at first
For of the human she was unsure

But the human smiled kindly
At this meeting most fortuitous
She loved the child’s spirit
Even if it was a bit mischievous

The human visited the child each day
And each day at their morning meeting
The child’s face would light up
At her human’s kind greeting

The games of human children
Each day they would play
And now and then the child would
Sneak in some tricks of the fae

At midday the child would sleep
Weary from a morning of fun
The human would sing soft lullabies
Until her dreaming had begun

Days turned to weeks then months
And with each passing playtime
The human and the faerie child’s bond
Became something gained once in a lifetime

But as with all good things
Their time together came to an end
The fae child had to leave behind
Her dear human friend

With their final games and tricks
The human felt an aching
Knowing she must say goodbye
Her heart began breaking

Midday came with its final lullaby
For the dear fae child
A song of rain and sunshine
And a love tender and mild

Then came the time of parting
The human bid the child farewell
A blink of an eye and she was gone
No more than a story to tell

There once was a faerie child
Of golden hair and small size
Who held a place in a human’s heart
And mischief in her eyes

One mistake
Just one, small mistake,
Inconsequential in the grand scheme
Of life and the universe.
And yet it is enough
To awaken The Spiral.
The Spiral of thoughts
That begin with “You messed up”
And ends with “You’re too flawed
To be truly loved.”

My logical brain knows
It’s the result of faulty wiring,
Not to be trusted,
And not at all true.

But The Spiral persists,
The sound growing louder,
Louder, louder until it’s screaming
And I am paralyzed,
Unable to find the motivation,
To find the purpose of even moving.

In The Spiral every flaw is scrutinized,
Viewed under my mind’s strongest microscope.
Every moment of imperfection is weighed and measured.
Even moments of happiness and joy
Are not safe from The Spiral.

The Spiral tells me that I am not enough,
That I am too broken.
It tells me no one would ever want to carry
The burden of my brokenness.
The Spiral tells me to keep
My deepest hurts, my darkest thoughts to myself.
It tells me that my friends who care
Will change their mind if they knew.
And if they don’t, eventually they will
Realize that the burden of my being
Outweighs any good I bring to their lives
And they’ll see it’s easier
To just walk away.

The Spiral is a demon and a liar.
The Spiral does not have my best interest in mind.
The only interest The Spiral has is my destruction.
It is an enemy I have fought many times
And will likely fight many more times.
Sometimes it lies dormant, quiet in its cage.
But now and then, without warning,
It breaks free and the battle commences once more.

Some days The Spiral is overwhelming
And I wonder if it’s even worth the fight.
But to quit isn’t in my blood
So I rise up, each and every time,
And I face down the enemy of my mind.

Because losing to The Spiral
Is not an option.

Thirty pages left?
But he’s already gotten the girl.
His relationship with his brothers
Seems to be on the path of mending.
What else could possibly happen?

It’s already three in the morning.
I’ve nowhere to be today.
My eyes are burning.
I really should get some sleep.
But there’s thirty pages left
And something isn’t quite right.

Maybe a few more pages
Just enough to ease the unsettling
Feeling I have in my stomach.
Surely this author wouldn’t
Let THAT happen.
She wouldn’t break that character so completely,
Not after all he’s been through already.

A few more pages isn’t enough,
I have to keep reading.
I have to know what happens.
I have to know he’s going to be okay.
I have to know, and I have to know NOW.

No, no, no, please dear author
Tell me you didn’t.
Tell me she isn’t dead or dying.
It will destroy him,
Losing that light from his life.

Tears are forming in my eyes.
Do I really want to keep reading?
I have to. I have to know.

A release of breath.
She’s fine, everyone is fine.
They are more than fine in fact.
The story will have a happy ending after all.

It’s been so long
Since I read a book
That kept me up so late.
I am exhausted
From all the emotional bouncing around.
But oh, what a wonderful feeling
To be reading at three in the morning.