04 September, 2012

Littlie

Reading
Much like dreaming-
A reprieve from reality.
An all-new world
To explore as I wish
To unlock its secrets
With the master key:
My mind.
My mind, however...
A mystery all its own.
It plays hopscotch
During hours of darkness,
Leaping from one idea
To the next,
Slithering from one
Emotion, to the opposite.
Like a littlie
On the playground:
Swing high, swing low;
Climb up, slide down;
Ride on the merry-go-round.
Yet somehow, books,
In that uncanny
Way of theirs,
Remind me of real
Life, through their
Truth, their irony,
Their serious and
Accurate descriptions
Of love, hate,
Indecision.
Indecision!
My own worst enemy.
Back and forth,
Swing high, swing low.
Ah! To feel the warmth
Of two arms, wrapped
Around me
Only me.
If only I were myself...
I feel as though a
Large part of me
Has been ripped off,
Leaving behind this
Bleeding, unsightly hole of
Misery and despair.
Oh, how I miss it!
Having him, of all people!
At least he was someone-
My someone.
How could i!
How could I do that;
To him, to me?
I can't even bandage
This missing appendage,
This extension of myself
That's been removed.
Oh, tears of hate!
Of sorrow, and, above all,
Lack of regret...
I can't keep doing this!
Not to myself,
Or to my son.
I have to move on,
If not for myself,
Then for him.
He needs more-
Deserves better!
Get off your ass, Kayla!
Move!
Do something!
Quit this longing,
This self-oppression,
And, more than anything,
This self-loathing.
You can do better!
For me, for me!
You know the motto:
No regrets.
Please, heart,
Don't forget...
Lock it away
In that part of your
Mind where secrets
Are kept.
You know that place-
The one where you
Keep Conroe
And Damian, and
Now maybe him, too...
The one where you
Put bloody arms
And scissors,
Mom drunk,
Beth crying,
Lexi pleading,
All those cups of water;
That hiding place
Where memories rest
Begging to stay buried-
The lies you've told
And boys you shouldn't
Have kissed...