The Poetry Marathon

#6: Work…your life away

September 1: Pay rent.
September 2: Work.
September 3: Work.
September 4: Work.
September 5: Work.
September 6: Work.
September 7: Work.
September 8: Work.
September 9: Work.
September 10: Work.
September 11: Work.
September 12: Work.
September 13: Work.
September 14: Work.
September 15: Work.
September 16: Work.
September 17: Work.
September 18: Work.
September 19: Work.
September 20: Work.
September 21: Work.
September 22: Work.
September 23: Work.
September 24: Work.
September 25: Work.
September 26: Work.
September 27: Work.
September 28: Work.
September 29: Work.
September 30: Work.
October 1: Pay rent.

Repeat until you can’t anymore.

#5: Who Am I?

Who am I?
How could I not know?

But when someone asks me this: I just stare at them blankly.
I freeze; I have no idea what to say.

Who am I?

I list my name, occupation, education, skills.
I list the things that people say about me.

Who am I?

What does that mean?                                       What do you want me to say?

Who am I?

Fuckkkkkkkkk;
I hate that question!

#4: Perhaps I shouldn’t say

i’d hate to think you think of me negatively. perhaps it would just be better if i didn’t say. but the ramblings inside my brain just won’t go away. i’m frustrated by how you’re treating me. this doesn’t mean i want you to leave. in fact, that would be the worst thing you could do. you see, i’m afraid of being alone. alone. no, i don’t want to be alone. so even though i don’t like how you’re treating me, I won’t say a thing. healthy boundaries? what are those? i’d rather just let you treat me the way you do and i’ll continue feeling this way because it’s better than being alone.

#3: Motherhood is just another day

Ah!

A shriek from the other room. What the hell was that?

I run in, soapy spatula still in hand from doing the dishes. I scan the room quickly for where my kids are this minute.

Oh, of course. My child is testing the limits of physics!

What are you doing? Are you okay?

They giggle and laugh. Likely thinking I’m insane.

Why is mom so worried? Doesn’t she know we just like to play?

Oh, the innocence of children. All fun and games. Their injuries only hurting for a second until they’re back up and onto the next thing.

I shake my head and go back to the dishes. Listening to them laughing while I carry on with getting through the next few minutes.

#2: As Time Moves…

It’s a strange thing when you feel your life passing by. The days get shorter and the nights drift. Suddenly, you’re another year older.

But this strange thing happens. Nostalgia. The things you once enjoyed become the same your kids make fads about.

Hipster jeans and slayer dreams. These kids are so funny. They tease us for being old but mirror us just the same.

Yes, time is a strange thing. The way it weaves to and from. Will we ever know where it is in a rush to go?

Time ticks by too fast sometimes. Nevertheless, thank you for the memories.

#1: I’m Late

I’m late! I’m late!
Shit, I forgot it was today.
The fear running through my body

Makes my fingers tap, tap away.
As fast as they can tap.
We have to close a big gap!

“Indecisive”

I can’t decide what to write.

There’s too many options.

There’s not enough time.

There’s so many thoughts and feelings.

Do I have to pick just one?

This is the last one of this marathon. . .

It went by so quickly.

Although, I’m excited for my bed.

Now, I’m off-track.

I was trying to make a decision.

But those are never easy.

“Breathless”

I’m breathless.

You stole my breathe when you cried out for the first time.

I’m breathless.

By the discovery of so many unmarked graves!

Some were a similar age and size to you right now.

Some were never held by their mums.

My heart aches.

So much suffering and pain.

I’m speechless.

By the complete lack of an apology or attempt to heal.

By the world’s uncanny ability to ignore.

By the immature approach to meeting differences.

I’m ashamed by my pale-skinnedness.

I’m angry with the injustice.

Mindless pain and sufferings.

All because of what?

Fear? Hatred? A fucking “book”!

I hope you shred the pages that preach that incite such hatred.

And burn the parts that support standing by and doing nothing.

I hope you’re brought to your knees and grovel for forgiveness, only to never have it come.

I hope you have to face what you did.

What you’re STILL allowing to happen!

They were CHILDREN!

YOU were the adults.

You should have known better.

They deserved better.

WE must do better!

“Flowers in Bloom”

He bought her flowers.

He watched them bloom.

He watched as she attended them.

He watched as the seasons came and went,

and how the flowers changed.

He watched time turn her hair white.

He watched as he mind began to drift.

He watched as she slowly lost all her petals,

and eventually withered away.

Just like the flowers she’d used to tend.

He bought her flowers.

He took them to her new resting place.

Always signed.

Her sweet admirer.

“Cruel Trick”

The most brilliant misconception out there is the idea that you need ANYTHING other than to be your truest self.

To live your life as anything other than authentically you.