Poem #169

So much pressure tearing up
your mind now. What should you
do and what’s the next right step
to take? Honey you lost the upper hand.

I’m dealing the cards and your hands
are shaking. I called your bluff when you
went all in with your lies and you lost
not only me but your pride.

You have no aces up your sleeve and
you’re the one playing a losing game now.
I’m not a beginner, I’m not learning – I
became the teacher the harder way.

This isn’t a poker face you see, this is me.
You made this. My coldness is your work
of art and I really hope you’re proud for
making me this numb.

I lost every game with you but I’ll win
this one and then we are done. Show your
cards now, I’m not scared. I’m playing with
a straight flush.

Poem #168

I’ve kept all of this bottled up inside
for so long that it just can’t all come
out of my mouth or through writing.
It started crawling out of me through
the hole you left in my chest and it burns
even more than your betrayal did.

Poem #167

The world was falling apart and she kept a smile
until at night she heard the howl of the wolves
calling for her, making her blood to boil,
making her step outside.

As her body carefully hit the grass the rain started
pouring down on her and she felt like the earth
was giving her comfort and a place to rest.
A light appeared in her sky, the meteors started piercing the night

She was just lying under the meteor shower while
the roses were crying raindrops and she whispered
to herself: “How long can I live a lie?” She was lying
on the ground when the meteors started coming down.

Everything caught fire as she ripped pieces of paper
throwing them to the side. Every verse and every line
seemed to get her to a breaking point instead of
getting her up from the ground.

The wolves howled louder and stronger than before
just to let her know that if she runs away on all fours,
she won’t be alone. She knew she would never be tamed
because the wild instincts only grew stronger in her veins.

The fire was destroying the nature but the moon was in the
sky safe and sound ruling over the newborn wolf of the night,
giving her his name and making her one of a kind. The fire was
getting stronger but it was never as strong as the one in her eyes.

Her mouth opened and she howled.

Poem #166

I refer to this place I’m in right know
as to a dead spot. I’ve been on this dead spot
for years,  no movement forward or backwards.
the same shit, every day, for years.

I bang my head into a wall thinking it will bring
me clarity because no right answer in my life
came from happiness. It always came from pain.
Nothing happened. I just have a red mark on my
forehead now. Guess the pain isn’t working anymore.

But that one great thing is coming. I know it is. I’ve been
waiting for it for years. High school graduation, university,
boyfriends, new job, new meditation… I thought all of these
things were that one big thing, but I was wrong. And I was wrong
one too many times and now the doors are shut and the windows
are so small I can’t crawl out and I’m stuck here on this dead spot
and I’m trying and I’m pretending I know where I’m going and the
key word here is “I” because it’s just me here, I’m alone here.

I did this to myself. I got me here and I don’t know how to get out.
I don’t know how to ask for help. I can’t find that one big thing,
that great change. Maybe I am the thing that needs to change.
Who am I?

Poem #165

If these walls could talk, they would have so much to say.

They would tell a story which we wouldn’t believe because
things like that don’t happen in our neighborhood, this
is a good neighborhood. A story we wouldn’t believe to
be true because things like that only happen on TV, only
to people we don’t know, the people we know don’t
live these stories.

If these walls could talk, they wouldn’t talk. They would scream.

The walls would scream but you didn’t and you still aren’t.
Don’t let anyone hear what’s happening, don’t seek for help
because no one will believe you and it could only get worse if the
cops take him away because he will return and then seconds
will be a matter of life and death. If you seek help he will place
his hands around your neck and your daughter’s neck and her
daughter’s neck and he will suffocate a generation of women but
he will suffocate it even if you scream so why are you still
holding your breath?

If these walls could talk, they wouldn’t talk. They would cry.

Well that’s the thing you have in common with the walls hiding your
misery. You cry. You cry over your daughters fragile life as you put
her to sleep, you cry hugging your son hoping he will never have the
courage to stand up to him and end up killed, you cry under the shower
so no one would hear. You cry when you fall down the stairs and you
laugh while you tell your friends that you fell down the stairs because
things like that happen behind crying walls. No one will notice your shame.

If these walls could talk, they wouldn’t talk. They would bleed.

And you too bleed every time you realize you’re living oppressed by
that filthy beast. Why are you holding your tears and hiding your
wounds? Show them to the world because if you don’t that sad
destiny will be your daughter’s destiny because she will mistake
violence for love. If you don’t teach her she has the right to live
and breathe and fight she might never learn it herself
and she just might end up hiding her bruises as well.

Who will talk first – the walls or the women?

Poem #164

What we had was so carefree like a Sunday
morning, so natural as the summer breeze,
so sudden as the smell of sea salt in the air
The only problem was that I wasn’t me.

You took away my breath and worries in
a single heartbeat and I let go of everything
because it was easy, for once something was easy.

We were opposites that weren’t supposed to attract.
Too much dark of a different kind can’t create light.
When I was with you people could finally see
what I didn’t want and who I never could be.

It doesn’t hurt anymore that you didn’t really love me
because the person I was with you wasn’t me, wasn’t even real.