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
Hair tangled in rumpled sheets.
Touch fuels the fire.
Find your way again inside
to push against my softness.
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.
Fumbling as I pour a drink
it spills down the side of the glass
and on my fingers
cursing in my head
I raise my hand to my lips
my tongue reacts to the strong taste
I notice you
and I linger
licking my finger
the cold drink in your hand
begins to sweat
I raise my glass towards you
your eyes follow the slow roll
between my breasts
at your smile,
one moment falls
and there I am
breathing your breath
my moist lips cover
sweet taste of your mouth
so loud there are no words
your eyes invite me
our quiet dark corner
full of sensual scents and sounds
feeling inside me,
my body guiding you
gliding with you
our flavors mix
and you drink of me
you moan against my skin
my thighs tighten
your body follows
our breath heavy
with sighs of release
you lean in towards my ear
and whisper, “Can I get you a drink?”
This particular poem is one of my personal favorites. It was one of four I had selected by a former webzine called Mind Caviar which has since ceased its creative processes but the archives are still available. I wrote under a different name at that time due to a horrific choice of marrying at the age of 20!! But that is a topic for another type of post. 🙂
Once we left that corner
our hearts fell.
Following years of broken dreams,
hurtful cries of irrationality,
betrayals that were understood only by the accused.
Later encounters that would never actually materialize.
Those wisps of hope falling.
My memories of all we did and what we never said,
puzzle pieces that will never connect again.