PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The rise and fall of your chest
Matches our fate

Through a series of mixed signals, half-truths, and emotional oxymoronic tendencies
The writing’s still on the wall

Confirmed -

Confined,
silver medal around my neck

You tell me it’s selfish of you to expect me to stick around
Shaken by your honesty
I tell you my pain
and 'I do not know if I can do this anymore.'

My exit wounds still fresh and stinging
with no walls to support falling backwards.

You understand with reserve, but somehow warmly
So unexpectedly
making my ache exponentially worse

My bruised ego

matches my heart's scarring
away from love,
from comprehending,
from the best thing that ever happened to me

You, just a fucked up girl on this blue and green pebble

yet to me, my world

a touted, lively spirit

something tangible, valid.
Oh, do I remember those eyes in love...
always as soft as they were sharp
I remember how much you loved that I cherished those portals.

*sigh*

...No, I don't think I can survive this fully intact

an overabundant share of roots may never regenerate

'No.'

I mutter quietly to myself in that car after another farewell,
'It will never be the same.'

My brain fires a reflexive response,
'It will never be the same??!?'

'No,' I reply.

Repeating it
pounding again and again, echoing off the empty walls
louder and louder,
'noo..
NOOO!'

My chest is numb, but tightening
I cannot sense the lump in my throat until long after my breath relinquished control

The barriers splinter that once supported my many strengths
and I crumble in slow motion

Crying tears of frustration, revocation alone
I can’t even comprehend my misery, my darkness, my solitude

Time should be passing, it might be

but my mind only reverberates white noise and nonsense

Staring aimlessly into space, ears on mute

Jaw on the ground, heart in the ground.

'Get up.'

..my brain finally wills a synapse.

'People need you to get up.'

Now pleading,

'Take a deep breath or two
Recompose this....
undesirable..
crumpled heap of wreckage
and be there

pursuing hope.'

Yet it seems when I initiated

Myself Version Two

the eyes I once knew

were replaced with mirrors

for the only believable vision's in the rear view

I should have known it was impossible to dream
when you’re in another man's arms as I fall asleep

Despite the angst

it's still easier to push you away

to let you embark upon an untethered existence

without implementing any revocation of my own
so you don’t have to witness these scars

or divert your effort to tend to them anymore.

For me, or against me

the options are irrelevant
I need wide eyes and wider mind
To merely survive these wholly real and educational,

yet wretched days

I can only close my leaky eyes
rub my beleaguered temple with sullen hand
and let Groundhog's Day continue its woeful course