I am many things … but wish I were more

I am courageous.
In my mind, I am a super hero. When I become fearful, I fall to earth.
A human. Being. But am I?
I am flawed.
In my body. In my way of thinking. I wear my flaws like designer jewels.
In my mind, I waltz with confidence.
But in my body, I drag and limp to the invisible finish line.
I am tired.
Of thinking of cool, innovative ideas.
Of competing. With others. With myself.
So I shuffle with the masses and berate myself, which does not add fuel to the super human being lost inside. Will she ever find her way out?
I am rebellious.
But chose the most obvious path. Rebel without a worthy cause?
Is that even a rebel?
Is this a metaphor?
Why can’t I just cheer choosing and taking action instead of face plant in my phone, not facing reality. Planting more seeds of worry.
I am unoriginal.
As evidenced by this boring choice of starting with I am.
So much for subtlety.
I am. Why oh why can’t that be enough?

Table for Two (last poem)

I sat waiting
And waiting
And deep down I had already known
His true inner self he had really shown

I had chosen the backdrop and it was stunning.
Desperate for romance, I looked at the sparkling Ocean
And recalled the last time I had been there
Had been under better circumstances
I was lying to my friends, “He’s awesome”
and to myself, “We can make this work.”

Our lives were too different.
He was confused and I was working through my own stuff.
Together, it was horrid.
A bad reality show that didn’t deserve to be on the air.

Trying too hard to put him into my life
I want fun and supportive, not more strife.
I can make myself feel badly without anyone’s help.
I sighed. Ordered another drink.

How did it take me this long to see?
Bam! That’s when I realized, I’m better off with a Table for Me.

missing and missed

i know you may not want to think it true
but we know not what someone’s going through

did he not know how much we all did care?
our helplessness fuels our grief ~ such despair

i fight tears each day at the weirdest times
watching hockey or hearing church bell chimes

may he find the calm he did not have here
rest in peace my beloved; we hold you near

!Que habría escrito en español.”(O that I had written in Spanish.)

So, play the water of the tranquil moon ~ Pablo Neruda (#8 the golden shovel)

I wasn’t sure what I had done so
trying to be more supportive, I attended your play
How I debated before taking action. The hardest part of the
Exercise was knowing I wanted your approval … like a human needs water

i remember our time together and think of
all the great (and not so great) memories and the
fact that I was so self-absorbed I didn’t appreciate it then. Tranquil
now I resolve to set aside my bad habits and howl at the Moon

Lie down with dogs

My teensy heart was begging for attention, for a way out of this pain.
What could I say to change your mind?
Why was this happening to me?
Stepping out of victimhood was not easy. I lacked experience in how to handle this.
My brain was sadly small.

i love you so much
yet you brutalize me.

I bury myself in your hair
And still you don’t return my affection.
You don’t even acknowledge I am there.
I feel even smaller. And powerless.

To prolong our joy and leave a legacy, I lay eggs and
find human hands carrying me off to go on a scary voyage
down a torrent of water
to my torturous death.

“I miss you, Fido!“ I scream. “I will always love you.”
You don’t answer. Did you hear my cries?

So, I make a choice and dive into the waterfall seeking solace.
Oddly, drowning one’s pain seemed to awaken the fire within.

Timing keeps me honest (poem #6)

What a shock. I was feeling pretty cute
Until I tried on last year’s bathing suit
So painful. Where can I go hide?
“I’m feeling sick,” I said. (I lied.)

ballet barre

seeking perfection
making sacrifices (avoiding food and boys)
but i was a soloist … we toured
We made it look easy
Hiding our bloody feet and calloused souls

the dance studio was my home
Prepping to enjoy my time on stage

years later,
only a twinge of self-criticism when attending the ballet
yet i still get complimented on my legs

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