I am not a willow
It seems our agreement shifted. And if I wanted to I would. If I believed anything other than the past would repeat itself, I’d behave differently. If I had it in me, I’d be right back on board. But,
I don’t have it in me. I don’t believe anything other than the past will repeat itself. In my deepest depths, recesses of my heart and mind, all my hidden coves, I know that nothing will change. I know that I will go through this over and over until I’m completely destroyed. Angry. Hateful. Resentful. Incapable.
And that’s not who I want to be. Not who I am. Not a person I’m willing to become.
I believe in goodness, in love. I believe in awareness, in knowing when you’re done, in trusting to know when we’ve reached an impasse.
It’s not that your aren’t worth it. You are my greatest love. You are everything I hoped and ever wanted. You are a kaleidoscope.
But I have scar tissue built up around my ability to go back. It’s marbled, knobby, held fast. I can see no, feel no, believe no other way.
The distance stretched too far this time. My heart is hardened. My hope proved insufficient. Asking for work, effort, belief, is out of the question. I’m tired. And I can’t.
i think i’m the worst sort of person. when is it okay to hurt someone else? when is it okay to say i can’t do this? only the worst sort would consider it. a person who thinks they deserve more than what they’ve got. that it could be better somewhere else. that constant waiting for the other shoe to drop will leave. the ebb and flow no longer dictated by desire or addiction. just ebb. ebb and ebb and ebb. til it’s gone.
but it’s never gone. even if you flush it out. chase it away. cut it from your heart. it’s still there. always hidden in the unsuspected. no matter the precautions taken. no matter the questions. no matter the reservations. always there. always ready to show me i’m wrong.
i am the worst sort of person
for wanting more than what i’ve got.
For your unfettered consideration
and undoubtedly refined thought,
tell me how you interpret
all of these changes
that have come unexpected,
unannounced, and unwanted
into the lives of everyone
who manages to pay attention
and notice what wrongs have
been done, ignored, and
tragically encouraged with
the enthusiasm of
a two year-old child
and the recklessness of one
who knows nothing of struggle,
heartache, and loss.
Mighty 5 … in fifty minutes Workshop Margaret Pettis Poem 3: Goal to write on sentence (about 20 lines) that is one perfect sentence. Showing that I can control language syntactically, grammatically, logically. with 5 words per line.
Linda Pastan The New Dog that is one sentence that is grammatically perfect. See below.
The New Dog
Into the gravity of my life, the serious ceremonies of polish and paper and pen, has come this manic animal whose innocent disruptions make nonsense of my old simplicities-- as if I needed him to prove again that after all the careful planning, anything can happen.
A driving force for unrelenting
Say it enough and it’s meaningless
Say it enough and it ceases to be
Notions for when it’s too late to change
When the results are in
And everyone you love is gone
When there’s nothing to be done
Sharing my short story the best way I know how with an amazon giveaway. If you’re interested, follow the link below!
I haven’t been writing. I’ve actively avoided it.
Writing, focusing, fretting about little things in my life when all of this horrible shit is happening seems to me to be a waste
I tell myself, “write. write. write.”
“It keeps you sane.”
But it isn’t important when so much hate has been released from so many.
“The hate was always there.”
Was it? All of these people were faking all this time? They were kept under control and now that we have a leader that condones bad behavior, they’ve let loose their feelings? I don’t believe it. It can’t be true. People are better than that. I can’t write about personal struggles when there are people being persecuted because of their beliefs.
“That’s been happening since the dawn of time. Never stopped you before.”
It’s stopping me now.
I feel paralyzed. Helpless. Terrified. What can I do?
“Don’t be distracted. Make the choices you’ve always made. Continue to send out love and connection and compassion. Be who you are. And write.”