confession

Confession. I am in an abusive relationship...with Lonely. He waltzed into my life a while back, as if he was invited. He wasn't. I wish he'd leave already. There is no love between us, never was.

Lonely likes to hit me over the head, mainly at night when I least expect it. Blindsides me with weapons I have no defense against. Nothing subtle about this fellow. He envelopes me in a frozen sort of pain.

I never quite know what to do when he shows up. His very presense blocks me from making plans, and holding a conversation is a struggle when he is standing over me.
I've heard rumors there are others like him, harassing people. It's their thing I suppose. Move away, they follow. Tricky fellas to get rid of.

Sometimes he lets me go and I can pretend I never met him... for a brief moment....when he finds out I've been cheating on him with Happy.... well, it's not good.
One day I'll gather the courage to leave him behind forever. For now though, I'm sitting here with Lonely, while him and his cousins Sad and Pathetic tell stories and laugh at my expense.

dig out

order does not come naturally to me
i have to make myself organize
force myself to pick up and put away

piles are easier than order

yet eventually cause stress
as things are lost or forgotten

lies are easier than truth

though piles of lies eventually cause stress

"where's the truth in all this mess,
where'd i put that memory,
did it actually happen?
maybe not.
i might have dreamt it.
or imagined..."

handmedown piles of lies are harder to organize
seem impossible to sort out
make sense of

but just like the piles of stuff
the layers can be peeled back
sorted through
toss the junk
eventually the truth will turn up.

hand me down rose colored glasses

My handmedown rose colored glasses
are permently perched over my minds eye

It never occured to me to remove them
they were given with such love

Over the years they've served me well
Filtering out the ugly
Transforming pain
shielding me from reality

yet their frothy pinkness
often allows me to walk into
situations
without seeing the danger
everything and everyone
looks pretty in pink

it may be time to put these handmedown glasses on the shelf
take a clear look around
and see
where i am
how i got here
and
where i'm going.....

Memory Martini

I like my memories shaken, not stirred.

Shaken so hard over the years
poured over jagged rocks
filled to overflowing
garnished with pretties

a shaky hand spills
just a little
lost just a fraction of an ounce

you wouldn't miss that splash
if it weren't for the stain

the stain that won't wash out

won't come clean

the truth is a lie

the ugly wears handmedown rose colored glasses

transforming pain with it's frothy pink layers of pretend

Memories don't have to make sense.
Stories are used to soothe
to quiet the tears
to lull back to sleep

just gulp it all down
and let the haze overtake.