Pomes

[justsomegirl1985]

Buried Alive

Six feet under is the phrase used when burying a body. I often wonder what phrase is best suited when the body is alive but the spirit has died? When the eyes are out of focus and a constant glaze has formed over the iris. We bury our dead in the ground, where do we bury our spirits?

[justsomegirl1985]

Braille

Light feather touches shouldn’t ever be taken lightly. Finger tips sliding slowly down your chest shouldn’t be misconstrued as a false front for sexual desire. 

They are not.

They are feelings that my mouth can’t wrap my tied up twisted tongue around. Too scared of the silent answer that sits unmoved on your lips.  So instead I’ll touch, I’ll read the answers on your body, like the blind reading braille. I will search for a hidden message, that is surely written there for me in your goosebumps.

[justsomegirl1985]

Dance With Your Demons

One day, when my anxiety was so bad, I broke down on the phone with my mom. She told me some words I’ll never forget.

“Oh baby, we all have demons that try to hide inside us in places we are too scared to go but you gotta dance with them. Some days you’ll dance until your feet bleed, but don’t you ever let them win.”

Today my feet are bleeding, but my God, I’m still dancing.

[justsomegirl1985]

A story I am asking you to finish...

I glanced at the clock under his tv. The glowing yellow numbers read 8:47. It was getting late and I knew tomorrow was going to be a long day. “Well”, I said, as I started getting up from the recliner that was adjacent from his sofa where he was sitting. His face and body angled at the tv so I only saw the back of his head all night, except for when we were talking and he’d swivel his neck slightly toward my direction. “I think I’m going to head out. I need to get up early tomorrow to start loading everything into the truck and then it’s a four hour drive.” I seen his eyes shift from the tv screen down to the time and then back up again, engrossed in the show that was still on. “Ya”, was all he replied. He stayed sitting while I walked across the living room into the dining room where I had put my hat on the table and jacket on the back of the chair. It was going to be hard to not be so close to him anymore. We had gotten closer after my divorce and were in a “friends with benefits” situation for years. I had a crush on him in high school so when the opportunity presented itself to be physical with him, I dove in, head first. Who wouldn’t want a chance of making their teenage love fantasy a reality? I’m not sure if I knew from the start if I was doing it for the possibility of something more but I knew now that was what I was hoping for. He made it clear from the beginning he’d never date me. He only saw me as a friend and nothing more. He has a lot of issues, anyone who went through what he did would. When serving this country, it’s a rare occurrence to come home the same person you were when you left, even more rare when you had friends, brothers, die in your arms. He never admitted it to me but I knew the guilt of not being able to save them haunted him. Telling him there was nothing he could have done would have been a slap in his face. He now punishes himself for, what he feels, was letting his men down.

I placed my hat on and got into my jacket, pulling the gloves out of my pockets and slipping my hands inside each one. Why I thought moving in the middle of January would be a good idea was beyond me. I guess I wasn’t really thinking too much about that and more of needing a fresh start, needing to get away from here, from him. “Is it weird the one thing I’m dreading more than anything is the drive and my butt getting numb?” I said laughing at my own stupid thought. He sat there and chuckled a bit, his eyes still fixated on the screen. I walked into the living room and watched the tv with him for a few moments. Standing there pretending to be interested in the show, all the while my mind racing and my heart starting to pound in my chest.

This is it, I thought, this is the last time I’ll see him till November. He’s going to forget about me, hell, he knows I’m leaving in a few hours and he hardly talked to me all night, of course he’ll forget me. I mean, who wouldn’t? I’m not interesting, I’m not sexy, I’m a 30 year old who goes to bed at nine every night for Christ sake. Not really the type of girl who leaves men craving her presence. No, not at all. I’m more the blend into the background and fade from your mind girl. It’s just who I am, who I’ve always been.

With these thoughts my eyes started to burn and I blinked back tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. I had gotten my emotions under control just as the show was cutting to a commercial. I turned to face him and smiled. He finally looked up at me, “Well”, he said looking down, he placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself up. My eyes traveled down his broad chest and flicked back up to his face before he cought me giving him a once over. “What time are you heading out again tomorrow?” “Well, if all goes well, which I’m hoping but you know how things go for me, I’m thinking five. That way I’ll be at my new place by nine. I don’t have too much to take and with my brother, sister and parents helping, I’m thinking getting everything in will take us about two hours. Then they can head home to leave me to start unpacking everything. You know my parents aren’t young spring chickens anymore, I’m sure the drive alone will wear them out. I’m sure my mom will be a mess when they leave too. Did I tell you she wants to drive up in the truck with me?“ He shook his head. “She said, and I quote, “Well, I’m driving with you, your father can follow us in the van. I want to spend as much time with you before you leave me forever.”“ I rolled my eyes as I ended the sentence. He let out a loud laugh, his blue eyes crinkling up and that boyish grin that I had come to love, spread across his face. I smiled at his reaction. “Oh you laugh,” I said “but my mom’s guilt trips are no joke. She will lay that shit on me the WHOLE time. I guarantee it. That woman is relentless.” He gave me another small chuckle. I started to walk past him towards the front door. Digging my keys out of my pocket as I walked, I continued chatting. “I’m sure she’ll be fine after a week or two. She’ll adapt, one way or another. I showed her how to use the video call feature on her phone, it’s just as good as seeing me in person. Though I have this feeling I’m going to regret showing her that.” I said the last part more to myself than to him.

He followed behind me and then stepped in front as we reached the door. He went and took off the latch and unlocked the lock. I watched as he started to turn the knob. “Josh,” I said, his name escaping from my mouth, my voice, though small and timid, sounded eerily loud in the silence that had settled between us. “Ya?” He turned his face towards me. My mind began screaming at me to tell him. Tell him you love him. Tell him you’ll stay if he’d ask you to. Tell him that he’s the reason you have to leave. That being so physically close to him yet not being with him, has been killing you for years and all he has to do is say you mean, even if it’s just a little, something more than just a friend to him, and you’ll stay. But even as those thoughts popped into my mind, praying he did want me to stay, I knew that they were all just false hopes. They were all well wishes that I dreamt of but the reality was, I was nothing more than a small blip on his radar. His life would go on just fine without me. He knew that, and I knew he knew that. The only thing I could think of to say was a statement we both knew was the most honest thing I could have said. “I’m really going to miss you, you know?” He looked at me, his face devoid of any emotion. Just a look of indifference that was normally set across his features. “I know kid. I know.” I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to. I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him. I felt his body tense for a second, then his arms wrapped around me. I don’t typically hug him because of his PTSD. I knew this type of physical contact made him uncomfortable, I really didn’t care. This was something I needed. I held on for a moment, trying to memorize how warm his body was, how hard his chest felt, the smell of his aftershave and how good it was to be held be him. I tried to imprint all of that into my mind so that on nights when I missed him I could dig deep inside and find it so that the sting of letting go would be just a little bit more bearable. I loosened my arms from around his neck and stepped back. I was impressed with myself that I hadn’t started crying yet but I started to feel the sting coming back into my eyes and that lump forming inside my throat.

“Well, I’ll talk to you later then, goodnight.” I said quickly before he would hear any signs of distress in my voice. I turned and walked out his front door. “Night.” He called after me.

I heard the door shut as I started walking down the steps. I heard the click of the lock and the jingle of the latch being placed back on.

It was a clear night and the moon was almost full, casting it’s pale light across the valley. The air was cold and my breath was visible in misty clouds as it left my lungs. I got to my car and unlocked it, I flung myself inside quickly putting my keys in the ignition and starting it, hoping to get out of there before the tears started to come, but it was too late. They flowed freely now, streaming down my face in constant succession, one after another, after another. I sat there in my car , my lights illuminating his front porch. I took a deep breath. I looked down to put my hand on my clutch and put my car in reverse. As I looked back up, I saw his front door swing open. My breath stopped in my throat.

How does it end? You tell me?

[justsomegirl1985]

Choice

Some days I’m not

sure which is more painful, loving you from far away

or loving you up close.

A.B.

[justsomegirl1985]

Good Love

I used to think love was a thunderstorm, the electricity of it made your hair stand on its end and made everything seem more intense.

It’s not

love is more like Christmas night, after the kids are sleeping and the excitement has lulled and its you and that person,

sitting in the dark

with only the glow from the Christmas tree lights and the only thing you feel is peace.

Right there.

That moment

THAT’S what love is.

I’m glad you found that.

A.B.

[justsomegirl1985]

Magic

The mind is a funny thing. When your adrenalin kicks in It will process everything more quickly Giving you the impression That time is slowng down It's like a magicians act So maybe When you look at me in that way And I swear I see love In your eyes It's just another trick That my mind is playing On me

[justsomegirl1985]

Unwanted

I hope some day When you decide you want to give us a shot I'll be in a position That we can try things out But if not. I hope that when the pain comes You are not broken by it But realize how much I loved you To have endured that pain For so long -A.B.

[justsomegirl1985]

ANXIETY

I am nothing more than a meal for my anxiety. It eats at me day in and day out. Sometimes in bites so big, it almost chokes. Sometimes it will cut off dainty pieces and chew on it 20 times before swallowing, taking the time to wipe its mouth on a napkin embroidered with all the words of my self doubt after each bite. You would think after so many years of feasting on my flesh it would be full, but I have never known something to have such an insatiable appetite.

[justsomegirl1985]

What I've leaned from heartbreak

What I’ve learned from heartbreak is that it does not get easier. That each time it is like a black hole in your chest pulling in all the light that used to shine from your eyes so that when you take a moment to look at your reflection in the mirror, emptiness is all that ever stares back at you. I have learned that after every heartbreak more pieces of you will chip away. You will carry these pieces with you in your pockets like loose change and will unconsciously touch them from time to time as a subtle reminder of the risks you have taken. I have learned that even the kindest rejections hurt equally as much as the harsh ones. You will question your worth Every.Single.Time. I have learned to gracefully implode into myself so that when my self confidence is shattered it does so as silently as the first snow flake that kisses the grass in winter. I have learned that no matter how much you want something you cannot always have it. I have learned that I am terrible at building walls, they crumble as soon as they are touched. I have learned that the pain of being lonely is much more bearable than the pain of heartbreak. I have learned that heartbreak and sleep are best friends. That sleep is the only place heartbreak cannot touch you, though some nights that’s not even a guarantee. I have learned that your first tear from heartbreak taste just as salty as every tear that follows. I have learned that there is always writing on the wall, you just choose not to read it. I have learned that the words “move on” sound like nails on a chalk board and taste like acid when they slide across my own tounge. I have learned that love is a game of Russian roulette except that all the chambers are loaded so you know the end as soon as you hear the cock of the gun. I have learned that time does not heal all wounds, time is the scab that grows over the parts of you that were damaged and letting go is the scar that is left behind. I have learned that the moment to walk away will always be too late. I have learned that if you keep busy enough you won’t think about the pain but there is always a moment of pause in the day and in those moments you’ll feel it again. I have learned that everything will become a reminder of him in some way. I have learned you will wake up every morning and fall asleep every night to the image of him imprinted in your mind. I have learned the best way to let go is to cut him off, and it may be hard or sound cruel but I have also learned that the heart is fragile and it’s ok to do what’s best for you. Besides, no one knows how terrible the sound of your heartbreaking is better than you do.

A.B.

[justsomegirl1985]

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[justsomegirl1985]

Ocean Eyes

His eyes are the color of the Mediterranean at one in the afternoon. So clear you swear you can see to the bottom of his ship wreaked ocean floors.

It’s such a conflicting feeling to find such beauty in his broken.

Never have I ever yearned so badly to feel the sand beneath my feet and taste the salt of the oceans spray upon my wind chapped lips like I do when I stare into his eyes.

-A.B.

[justsomegirl1985]

Who would have thought it is in a room full of silence when thoughts become unbearably loud.

[justsomegirl1985]

I can no longer string my words together in such a manner that I can convey to the world exactly what I am feeling, and I fear, it is driving me mad.

[justsomegirl1985]

Crazy

Try not to listen to the voices that have crawled inside your head. They are never really telling you all the things that you have said. Don’t let them try to trick you into what they say is true. Stop and just remember, only you know you. Yes the words that they are saying are in the sound of your own voice. But that doesn’t mean you have to listen, you always have a choice! I know they don’t stop talking and they often start to shout. That sometimes they’re overwhelming and you just scream, “GET OUT! GET OUT!” There will be days where they’ll destroy you, you will break down and cry. You’ll find yourself upon your floor calling out to God, “Oh why?” I wish that I could tell you that one day they’ll settle down. That you’ll be doing something and they’ll no longer be around. I wish I knew the answer to stop these voices in MY head. Yet I fear there may not be one, at least that’s what they’ve said. So if ever you find a solution to make them finally be still. Please don’t forget to tell me, for I doubt I ever will.

-A.B.

[justsomegirl1985]

I often wonder if he can taste the salt on my lips when he kisses me from the tears I cried the night before. -

[justsomegirl1985]

I am just a nameless face in the crow of people you have forgotten about. A timeless testament to how good you are at letting go.