They call them laugh lines.
Down around the eyes telling stories
that turn out not so funny.
The truth behind them is simply
keeping up appearances.
Years of looking happy so no one
really knows the truth.
Smiling for work, for your boss.
At neighbors and parents of school events.
Smiling at the children, the husband
and family members.
Yet no one notices the pain in the eyes.
Fear masked day in and day out.
So much that even when you look at your own
reflection you don’t recognize the creature
His voice grew cold as he pushed her aside,
Shouting he never really loved her.
Crumpling as he spoke,
she waited for the floor to swallow her.
She knew it was the woman from the park that day.
Fate steered her to crossing paths with him
In his lovers’ arms, sunshine framed their tryst.
There was a complete lack of sound as her life exploded.
She could not look away from the devastatingly
beautiful way he held her face,
kissing her youthful mouth.
Perhaps whispering into her ear what were once lies
previously reserved for his wife.
It would be so much easier if she could hate him.
But any emotion she felt for him left years ago.
These days promises of forever were misleading.
I love you was simply a means to a cynics end.
Quietly she murmured for him to go.
Far from being that fairy tale story ending –
He explained he loved her more,
Discarding me once it became too difficult.
That’s the trouble with falling in love
with a man who belongs to someone already.
Tends to get very messy when the owner
demands you remove yourself immediately.
A heart that never belonged with yours.
A home that was only a creation in your mind.
Future plans and curtains hung on imaginary windows.
At first the self loathing is all you have,
until the reality sets in that he held fault as well.
He told me how special I am, so beautiful,
smart, funny, and all of those bouncy charms
winning me over until my senses clouded.
It could be mine.
It might even be love.
Once it’s not,
once the pain sears at you
with that final call of goodbye.
Weeks of silence stretches into months.
and suddenly those simple reminders become epic.
Turn off the song you shared
during one long summer night.
Change that perfume you once
spritzed in a note to him.
Letters, cards, and trinkets scatter
when thrown in frustration.
He’s fine, she’s fine, they’re fine.
Like it never even happened.
Perhaps I didn’t exist to him.
This perfect creature he never really knew,
really live and love beside as
his spun stories led one to believe.
Sipping my coffee
staring out into the streets of busy days.
Learning to breath again.
It’s so hard to harness a bubble.
An iridescent upside down picture
floating off to an adventure
perhaps just down the street.
Tiny hands grasping at the fragile
texture only to feel the simple,
What wonder the easy pleasure brings.
Little feet wandering through
the dirt, chasing each tiny orb.
Laughter bouncing off the walls
just as we imagine these bubbles
Orbit out in to space
encasing our dreams and wishes.
Buoyant on an afternoon blue sky.
Float away. Float away.
I felt this tennis court at a school just down the block from me captured this bleak and dreary day in my desert neighborhood. Taken very quickly by my Motorola Blur, adjusted slightly by the Instagram thingy that I have not entirely figured out just yet. 🙂
Dreary Desert Day
When you see a beautiful picture,
the subject cannot be questioned.
In its simpilest form, art.
When you look upon a sunset,
serene across the horizon
the final destination is clear.
People are not as easily read.
Easily covered exteriors,
Deceptions played on the willing.
To weak to accept the truth and yearning for any sort of love.
Cast down from each plastic figure.
Once uncovered the charade will surely be over.
Exclaiming, “I see you NOW!”
But the blind choose to remain blind.
So you see exactly what they show you, effects and all.