Sunday, November 22, 2009

For Today

I asked you if you loved me and you swore you always would.
And then you asked if I could feel the same.
Well, I can't tell you yes or no.
The truth is, I don't really know.
I've always been a loser at this game.
The game called love...
I never seem to win it.
My heart keeps going 'round that word, but never falling in it.
You know I love you.
But how can I tell you always--
When tomorrow, I may feel another way?
But I'll love you forever...
For today.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

This Bridge

This is another poem I wrote back in high school. Years later, in my first-ever therapy session, Therapist Mary asked me if I'd ever thought about suicide. I started to laugh off the question, when I remembered standing at the bridge, looking over the railing, and wondering if the fall would be high enough. I told her that yes, I guess I had thought about suicide. She leaned forward, looked me right in the face, and asked, "Are you thinking about it right now?" The question haunted me for years. In a way, it still does.

~

I’ve walked for half an hour and it brought me to this bridge
And I can’t say I’ve not stopped here before.
Because my world is harsh and threatening and the darkness seems so calm.
I know this bridge is what I’m looking for.
So I step up to the railing and I peek over the side—I can hear the darkness calling me below.
I take a breath and then step back; when headlights appear, I wait for taillights to go.
I return to the edge and open my eyes…

Maybe this bridge ain’t high enough to take away my sorrow.
And time has not gone by enough for me to see tomorrow.
Something’s waiting for me somewhere, but is it here or is it there?
Maybe this bridge is just high enough…

More headlights, then my best friend’s face, telling me not to stay out too late.
A smile, a laugh, she sped away, and I turned back to face my fate.
The darkness was calling. I didn’t hear the squeal of the tires or screams that echoed every where.
While my best friend was dying, one foot had met the air.
But wait…

Maybe this bridge ain’t high enough to take away my sorrow.
And time has not gone by enough for me to see tomorrow.
Something’s waiting for me somewhere, but is it here or is it there?
Maybe this bridge is just high enough…

I can hear the cars and chaos where my best friend is lying dead.
I feel the darkness envelop her as they cover up her head.
Do I stand here? Do I go back home?
Can I make it living on my own?
And then I hear the answer…

Girl, this bridge ain’t high enough to take away your sorrow. .
Time will soon go by enough and you will see tomorrow.
Something’s waiting for you somewhere—it’s your life—look everywhere!
But this bridge just won’t be high enough.

I walked for half an hour and it brought me to this bridge,
And I can’t say I’ve not stopped here before.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Couldn't

This isn't random poetry. It's actually an excerpt from a book that I am working on...I can't write from beginning to end because parts of the story eat at me until I stop everything and write them. This was one of those parts and I felt compelled to share it here. The story is about...well, I think it's pretty clear.
~

“I’m in love with you.”

Silence filled the room as the words she swore she’d never say hung in the air. Though her eyes were closed, she could see the shock covering his face, followed quickly by disgust and ridicule, chased by pity.

The tears came, then, and she squeezed her eyelids tighter to keep them from escaping onto her cheeks, which flamed in embarrassment.

She already knew he didn’t love her. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Which is why she could never tell him.

Sighing, she faced the woman in the mirror. Her eyes were red and wet, burning with the sting of unshed tears. Breathing deeply, she wet a paper towel and dabbed at her face, hoping to dispel some of the blotchiness betraying her emotion. She was alone in the bathroom. He hadn’t been present to witness her shame.

His face came to her again. This time, his laughing eyes held no scorn. His arms surrounded her, his breath warm on her neck. “I love you,” he whispered before covering her lips with his own.

She saw the sparkle that leapt to her eyes before she could stop it and shook her head. Had to stop thinking about him. Had to get him off her mind. She couldn’t, though. He was everywhere.

Exiting into the hallway, she walked back to her office. As she reached for the door to punch in her security code, the elevator arrived and she heard his voice behind her.

“Hey, you.”

Speaking of everywhere. She saw her sad reflection in the mirrored wall of the car before the doors glided shut and it began its descent. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Everything okay?” The look of concern on his face was too much and she looked down, hoping he hadn’t noticed the tears that sprung to sting her eyes again. Damn.

She nodded.

Peering around her, he looked into the window of their office before pulling her away from the door. He glanced into the empty hallway behind them before drawing her against him, his arms moving around her. “Now, call me crazy, but I don’t believe you.”

His lips brushed her temple and she sighed against his chest, lifting her arms around his neck and relaxing into him. Now would be the perfect time to tell him. I love you. It felt so natural, she bit her lower lip to keep the words from breaking free. I love you. She couldn’t tell him. Wouldn’t.

She blinked away the hated tears. Her smile was genuine. “Thank you for the hug.” She tried to step back, but he followed, not relinquishing his hold on her.

“I’m not done yet.” His lips trailed down her cheek to her neck while she protested half-heartedly. He shushed her, risking a glance over his shoulder at the still-empty hallway. When he turned his face to hers again, her lips were waiting.

She smiled into their kiss, marveling once more at the heat they seemed to create from nothing. A tremble shook her all the way to her toes and she tightened her hold on him. He took a step forward, crushing her between his hard body and the wall.

She gasped and he took advantage of her open mouth and brushed his tongue against hers.

Down the hall, around the corner, a door closed and they jumped apart. He released her abruptly and moved aside, pulling his cell phone from his pocket and putting it to his ear, mumbling fake responses to nonexistent questions.

Blinking the stars from her eyes, she turned and tried to open the door to the office. She got the code right on the third try and stepped inside. “I love you,” she said to the closed door, leaning her forehead against the cool wood. She wanted to tell him. She’d said it a hundred times. Every door, window, and wall between them knew her secret. She’d scribbled the words on countless pieces of paper, only to shove them in the shredder seconds later. She whispered it to his car in the parking lot. But she never told him. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Strangers...

There's an old man sitting on an old park bench,
Watching the birds who are watching him.
And I wouldn't think anything's different 'bout him,
But he's been there for two days, and a week before them.
(What's he doing?)
People walk by and they try not to see
What a horrible life that could come to be...for them.

And I'm sure this old man has a story somewhere.
And I'm sure he would share it if somebody would care.

It wasn't his fault...
The kids grew up and his wife passed on and the money's gone,
So they threw him out on the street...
What a solution.
It wasn't his fault.

There's a little girl sitting on a street corner.
She's crying and in pain.
As the pangs of hunger rape her,
Her feelings, they just drain.
And people pass by on the street,
But her eye--their eyes never meet!
They try to pretend they don't see her, she's there!

And I'm sure this little girl has a story somewhere.
And I'm sure she would share it if somebody would care.

It wasn't her fault...
Her parents were too young and maybe they tried but they just couldn't cope,
So they threw her out on the street...
What a solution.

It wasn't her fault.

Well, one day the old man decided to walk
Across the street and down the block.
And he found the little girl on the corner there,
He couldn't just pass her by so he stopped and he stared...
"Can I help you?"

And I'm sure this little girl can find a smile somewhere.
And I'm sure this old man could complete the perfect pair.

It wasn't his fault...the money's gone.
It wasn't her fault...they were too young.

What a solution.

There's a little old man and a real little girl,
Sitting on a park bench watching the world...

It wasn't his fault.

It wasn't her fault.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Dear Mommy...

I am a worrier. I find myself in a constant state of anxiety, needlessly planning the funerals of my loved ones when they don't return a call I was expecting or are a few minutes late. I am easily brought to tears just thinking about losing a family member. I wrote this in my head on my way to work one morning, from the prospective of a young girl who misses her mother. I am grateful for every moment I have spent with my mom and pray every day for many, many more!



Dear Mommy,
I'm starting school today!
I wish you weren't so far away.
What if nobody likes me there?
What if the teacher doesn't care?
Daddy misses you, Mommy, and so do I.
I get scared sometimes when I hear him cry.
But when we're together, he tries not to fuss...
Mommy, why can't you come back to us?

Dear Mom,
I became a woman today!
I wish you were here to help me that way.
I can't tell Dad, he wouldn't know what to do.
I really need to talk to you!
I like this boy in my third hour class,
And today he smiled when he saw me pass.
I'm so happy, Mom, and I think I'm in love!
Can you see me smiling from your cloud up above?

Dear Mom,
I'm graduating today.
I wish you were here and not far away.
I'm afraid of going out into the world.
Mommy, please help me, I'm just a small girl!

Dear Mother,
I got married today!
Daddy looked so handsome when he gave me away.
Our friends were all there, and I wore your white dress.
The cook dropped the cake, though, and oh! What a mess!
There was laughter and fun, Mom, and you should have been there...
But in some ways you were. I felt your smiling stare.

Dear Mom,
I received some important news today.
The doctor says there's a baby on the way.
I'm excited, Mom, but frightened, too.
I'm not sure I can do this without you.

Dear Mommy,
My new daughter died today.
I can't understand why God took her away.
"She'll be okay," the doctors all said,
But she never woke up when we put her to bed.
I know that she's gone and I can't bring her back,
And I'm trying to keep my life on its track.
I'd like to break down, and I've got reason to.
I just lost my child, and I never knew you!
I never got to hold your hand as she never will hold mine.
Mom, please say that you're taking care of her. Give me some kind of sign!

Dear Mother,
My only son took his bride today.
They looked so happy, driving away.
They're honeymooning in Europe somewhere;
Please try to watch out for them over there.

Dear Mommy,
They told me I'm dying today.
Now, with my first grandchild on his way.
The doctor said I'd be fine, but I guess he was wrong;
Two others have said that I haven't got long.
Oh Mommy, please help me, I'm so very scared!
I can't die yet, I'm not prepared!
There are so many things that I still need to do...
Business left that I never got to.
I just learned right now that time goes by so fast...
I didn't realize how many years have gone past.
Have I wasted my life? Or did I do okay?
Mommy, I wish you weren't so far away.

Hello there, Mom.
I know it's been quite a while.
You look wonderful, though; it's good to see you smile.
You won't believe me, Mom; I've been through so much.
But I tried very hard to keep you in touch.
Since we last spoke, I've been doing much better.
By the way, Mom, I wrote you this letter...

Dear Mommy...

Friday, July 3, 2009

I Will Try

I've been doing some housecleaning today and came across a random stack of papers on a bookshelf. Within the stack, I found sheet music, the script from a play I was in my junior year of high school...and pages and pages of poetry--including one written on a napkin! (It's so me!) I was saving them all onto my computer and thought to share one here. Most of my old work is a little rough and needs some cleaning up...this one is completely raw, though, written about an old boyfriend...though I couldn't say which one. ;-)

I’m not demanding that you stay with me…
And I’m not telling you how your life should be.
I’m just promising if you should ever need me—
Just close your eyes, there I’ll be.
I’m not swearing you my undying love.
I’ve done that countless times in the stars above…
Now, I’m not saying that if you leave me, I’ll die.
But I won’t promise you that I won’t cry.
And maybe I won’t love you when forever’s gone by…
But I swear to you, I will try.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Don't Look Down

One day, I won't listen. Until then, I'll write.

~


Hold your breath.
Pretty soon, he’ll walk away.
Then he’ll head on home and
You’ll have made it through another day.

Don’t say the words.
He might not feel the same.
And even if he says he does,
Would it change a thing?

Don’t look down.
Heard it a million times.
It’s supposed to keep you feeling safe
When you’re way up high.

Don’t look down.
Too late to say don’t fall.
Is it best to know at least he cares
Than not know at all?

Don’t look down.
You don’t know what waits there, girl.
It might be the happy ending
You’ve been searching for.

But then, maybe not.
It could be the end.
You might change everything,
You could lose a friend.

So, hold your breath.
Don’t let him see you frown.
Fake a smile, try not to cry…
And don’t look down.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

At One a.m.

I've been suffering from insomnia for almost a year now. I'm certain I know what's causing it, but it's not something I can share...with anyone, really. Instead, I accept the 3, 4, 5 hours of sleep afforded to me with the aid of sleeping pills prescribed by my doctor. Except for getting through the next day, insomnia is not so bad. I do laundry, clean my kitchen, and I write. I keep a notebook by my bed to capture my dreams while they are still fresh in my head. And often, inspiration strikes and I wind up with sad and beautiful words such as these...and nothing to do with them but to send them anonymously into cyberspace...and hope that, perhaps, the right eyes will read them and understand.
~
At one a.m. I lie here, dreamless; the drugs that weigh me to my bed do naught to heavy my eyelids or quiet the thoughts circling my mind.

At one a.m. I think of you, to wonder if I crossed your mind as you drifted off to sleep. If you would leave your dreams to visit mine, as you have so often done before.

At one a.m. I can speak the words I swore I’d never say aloud. They echo in my mind each moment I stare into your soulful eyes and at times, it’s all I can do not to blurt them out.

At one a.m. I whisper them softly and your reply, however imagined, warms my heart to the point of bursting. My knees weaken as you reach for me, my lips burning for yours.

At one a.m. I have you to myself. There are no interruptions…no surprise visitors…no guilt, no fear. Only you….No. Only me. I am alone.

At one a.m. I am struck to tears by the realization. Without you, I sigh and understand that slumber will elude me still. Left wanting that I should not want. Needing what I mustn’t need. Loving whom I cannot have.

At one a.m. I can want. I can need. I can love. If only then. If only me. If only.

At one a.m.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Is it Me?

Some words don't need explanation. Still waiting for an answer on this one.
~

You play a song about the wrong choice.
I hear the passion that's in your voice,
As you sing about the girl you love but you can't have.

Sitting in the front row,
I'm praying my tears don't show,
As I listen to the words I've longed to hear so bad.

Is there a chance? Is it real?
Are you trying to tell me how you feel?
Am I the girl you dream about?
The one you love, but live without?
A dancing song, it's soft and slow,
But tell me, I just have to know;
The words you wrote, they're sad and sweet
Am I the girl?

Just tell me, please...
Is it me?

You might try to hide your left hand,
But I know you wear a wedding band,
And even though I know it's wrong, I still love you.

I thought I'd have to hide forever.
I guess I really never
Thought there was a chance you'd feel the same way, too.

(Girl, now you know I do.)

Is there a chance? Is it real?
Are you trying to tell me how you feel?
Am I the girl you dream about?
The one you love, but live without?
A dancing song, it's soft and slow,
But tell me, I just have to know;
The words you wrote, they're sad and sweet
Am I the girl?

Just tell me, please...
Is it me?

My heart stops as the song ends and your eyes find me...
But then I realize she's sitting right behind me...


Is there a chance? Is it real? (Please take a chance. This is real.)
Are you trying to tell me how you feel? (I've been dying to tell you how I feel.)
Am I the girl you dream about? (You're the girl I dream about,)
The one you love, but live without? (The one I love, but live without.)
A dancing song, it's nice and slow,
But tell me, I just have to know;
The words you wrote, they're sad and sweet;
Am I the girl?

Just tell me, please...

Is it me?
Is it me?
Is it me?

Monday, June 8, 2009

He Brought my Mama Flowers...

Growing up, I never had the best relationship with my stepfather. I always felt that my mom was looking the other way...now that I'm older (and wiser) I understand the position she was in. It doesn't make it hurt any less, though.


He came between me and my mama, but so quietly that she never knew.
She smiled and called us a family,and when he smiled, I smiled too.

She never saw the tears in my eyes,
or the pain in my heart; and she saw through his lies.

She'd never have guessed that I cried for so many hours...
Because he brought my mama flowers.

He brought me lessons that should not be learned.
Stories that should not be heard.


He taught me violence, brought me tears.
He bought her silence, brought me fears.


And he brought me many painful, lonely hours.

But he brought my mama flowers.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Thoughts of You...

This one speaks for itself. There's a line from Moulin Rouge that runs through my mind with I think of this poem--which is often. "Hurt him to save him." Sometimes, it's the only way?



Tell thoughts of you to go away.
Please make my pain take flight.
Remove from me this burden,
Return my world to bright.
Tell unshed tears to stay themselves,
Please help my heart to mend.
Tell me you don't love me.
Tell me it's the end.
Hold me in your shaking arms,
Feel mine tremble, too.
Take the stars out of my eyes
And kill my love for you.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Tears that Fall...

This is the epitome of random poetry. I often have flashes of inspiration and grab a notebook, a napkin, any random piece of paper and just start writing. I frequently find scraps in my purse with a line or two scribbled on it. I wrote this one about three years ago...I was writing in a notebook and wrote this on the back of one of the pages. The words just poured out, and when I thought I was done, I turned them around and changed the meaning of the poem completely. It's one of my favorites.

Tears that fall that hath no reason
Change did come before the season
Love I thought I knew I wanted
Dreams I had that now are haunted
Wishes thought to be unspoken
Self made promises were broken
Life imagined now lies shattered
Life that happened never mattered
Only silent words are true
Though no lie was told to you
So for granted was a chance
That I should never know romance
But for granted my romance
That I did try to take that chance
Lies never shall ring true
Therefore silent words must do
Life that happened now lies shattered
Life imagined never mattered
Promises that once were spoken
Now in pieces they lie broken
Love that shall forever haunt
Dreams of such will never want
Change did come but for no reason
And now tearful is the season