A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

* Don't worry folks. I am not perennially tortured. But I do have a tendency to see the serious sides of things in my writings. In real life, I am kind of a goofball dork! LOL

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

I teeter totter like a child
as he learns first steps
deliberate, off kilter
Humpty Dumpty toppled
from Jericho’s Wall
shell broken into shards
glued back together

There are fissures in my exterior
slight imperfections
sometimes masked
other times flagrant
like a sunburn on alabaster skin

My mood reflects battles
of complexities
remnants spilled onto
starched white shirts,
or effervescence sprayed
on to blank canvas
watercolors that paint mosaics
run together like melted crayons
that color outside the lines

I am a jigsaw
with stolen pieces
a Scrabble game with vowels
indecipherable
synapses that connect
invisible dots
only I decipher

My mind shuts down
like a locomotive without steam
sensitive, tortured;
I sleep with vampires
feed off negative ions
that combust
temporarily my life force
until the reset button
is pressed and I am reborn

But I am kind, perceptive
unable to accept compliments
even when warranted -
my face flushes pink
like a broiled shrimp;
I am brilliant
even if I cannot recite
Einstein’s Theory of Relativity

I am ever-changing
like Autumn leaves
that burn red, plum,
a work in progress
emotions displayed
on stained glass windows
in crystal prisms
splayed against white walls
finding the shadows

Purging

* This was an exercise where it was required to use the following phrase as my opening line which I doctored a bit: "My emotions pulled and tore strips from my heart, I placed them down on the hot summer sidewalk of my life and left them to burn."

Purging

My emotions pulled
tore strips from maligned heart;
I placed them on hot summer sidewalks
of life, left them to burn.

I am an onion peeked
a naked soldier on boiled battlefields
where searing scars form
over coagulated flesh.

I withdraw, taste bitter melon
spit shards of steel from pouty lips
my way of coping with
broken promises,
foolish journeys across rivers
overflowing with crocodiles
that hope I lose my balance
the rocks slippery, menacing.

Anxiety compounds complex sentiments –
hurt,  shame, anger, bewilderment -
form funnel clouds, devastate
internal organs which shut down;
they await for my spiritual demise,
prey on hopelessness embedded
in unprotected nucleus vulnerable,
quickly chewed up, spit out.

I am an embryo fighting for sustenance
those first six weeks perilous
a challenge to survive
develop a stealthy life force.

For now, my heart is beating
sizzling in blistering heat
two eggs sunny-side up
a meal for pigeons.

Awakenings

Awakened

by the bellow of a drunk
as he relentlessly pleads,

Sheila. Come home
Please Sheila.

I can feel you
in shadowed walls
in empty basins,
and naked sheets
where your head used to dwell.

Your scent hovers
trapped in flannel shirts
old cologne bottles;
I see you in double vision
but when I blink, you’re gone.

I spot you in mirrors
where yesterday you shared
coveted smiles,
spoke witty non sequiturs
blanched in ivory light,
but the truth tells me
you were never there.

Some things you never get used to

I am afraid slumber provides
restless dreams
where I am haunted
by intangible caresses
kisses from hummingbird wings
gentle mist after
silver Spring showers

I remind myself
that now I can repair
my shattered heart
splintered by wooden crates
broken alarm clocks

But it’s you, always
and although I trick myself
into the belief that ultimately
I am better off
the heart shakes its head
embarrassed by my self-pity

Until then, I wait
like a cat on the prowl
when I can rest
dreamless
without injury

A Lifetime Ago

You used to be so cute (used to be)
he declared with too much enthusiasm
a real looker, a total babe! -
as if chopped liver appeared more savory
than me in this moment:
a reminder of what was,
of skinnier jeans, chiseled torso
healthy tan, and a smile
any orthodontist would admire

The years take their toll
as my once narrow frame
buckles under sore knees,
my eyesight falters under duress
the computer screen’s twelve font display
dwindles in real time
barely able to peer letters
when I squint

Glory days of yesteryear
pass like a freight train
bolting at one hundred miles per hour,
visions of my tight 501s
flannel shirt, steel toe boots
rugged, intimidating;
underneath was the child
who escaped the conservative shackles
of Midwestern strife
a great place to grow up
a better one to leave

I played the reindeer games
dated pretty girls with red bows
pink lipstick, afraid
they would kiss me under the elm
in front of my house,
scared that I wouldn’t smack lips
and show the boys I fit in

I pecked my first man
at the age of seventeen;
he was all of twenty-three
blond bangs that covered
his baby-greens,
a smooth talker who liked to drink
smoke too many cigarettes
until I became weary
and passed him by
his heart a molten mess

The world was my playground
but insecurities, naiveté
plagued me so that I did not comprehend
that I was coveted;
all I wanted were stealthy arms
to hold me tight, whisper
intimate secrets under linens
our knees locked in a lover’s embrace

You really were beautiful (were)
he says deliberately
as if what I have to offer
now that experience has taught
is not enough to reflect
on yesterday’s promise
that I can brave the world alone
.
I am worthy, I self-soothe
frayed nerves that challenge
my resolve, self-esteem,
that I am not being admonished
so much as being sought
in the orbs of a pouty queen
with the sensitivity of a nagging gnat.
Survivor when brothers perished,
educator to ignorant ears
overachiever in self-growth, awareness –
I am all these things and yet…

I do not question what I won;
I just wish I had more time to love,
to appreciate the journey,
had the ability to turn clocks back
begin again, strive
to know then what I know now

You really were something
and I have to smile
because I have invested in my core.
Besides, to still be wistful
is to feel at all –
I don’t pretend to be anyone
other than who I am
and it took a lifetime perhaps
but it was worth the wait after all.