Re-sharing this one for National Poetry Month..
I believe they are called “coyotes”
those smugglers that go over the border to bring people into America.
I wonder if I could hire one?
someone to sneak across my borders.
searching for pieces of me left behind–
broken bits and jagged edge slivers—
hidden for years under miles of dust, debris, and baggage.
bringing them back to me to recreate myself
into some collage, some abstract mosaic of broken glass…
rearranging them into some Pollock-like masterpiece
that when you turn it in just such a way…
it bares resemblance to a human being.
I still catch a glimpse of her sometimes….
behind the steel blue cage.
The girl I once was
staring back at the woman she never thought she’d become.
A woman who lost her hopes and dreams
in a black, murky sea.
Carrying too much baggage in her heart
and in her skin.
Weighed down as she tried to swim to shore,
tried to escape the grasping tides.
That girl looks sad and lost,
wanting to see the world again-
wanting to see herself again.
Instead, the stranger stares back and once again
she loses hope of ever escaping.
April 1, 2016
borderline, bpd, darkness, depression, growing old, growing up, life, life lessons, love, mental health, poem, poet, poetry, self-help
My complete lack of self-esteem.
My insecurity in relationships and in myself.
My inability to trust.
My black and white thinking.
My sadness inside my happiness.
The pit in my soul that is never filled.
My hatred of mirrors.
My second guessing of everything and everyone—-
I didn’t choose these things.
They made me. They envelope me.
They consume me.
I camouflage them in smiles and nice things,
hoping no one will notice the bumps and bruises.
But where do they end and I begin?
March 23, 2016
adult, borderline, bpd, darkness, depression, life, life lessons, love, mental health, poem, poet, poetry, self-help
There are no grays for me—
no in-between moments.
I live in a world of extremes
full of black and white, good and bad, all or nothing.
My heart is either too full or completely empty,
my mind—devoid or in abundance.
No one understands, no one can fathom
the energy it takes each day to stay afloat.
To not lose myself in the depravity and hopelessness,
yet get caught in such overwhelming beauty that it hurts.
I’m up and down, in and out–
enemies with my own mind and soul.
Longing for gray.
He lies in wait for me every day
looking for that perfect chance to attack.
Ready to strike at the
first sign of weakness.
I try to fight.
I see him coming from the corner of my eye-
his yellow eyes
with nothing behind them
void of love, of feeling, of happiness.
I try to run, I try to fight-
flailing my arms, screaming at the top of my lungs,
hoping someone will hear
someone will help.
But, he’s my enemy-
mine and mine alone.
With one full swoop of his claws,
grip tightening around my throat,
fear in every cell of my body,
he has me.
I am his.
I am defeated.
My world goes dark.
He walked me to the edge of the world –
he said he wanted to show me the light.
But all I saw was black…
An all-encompassing void.
“Just wait,” he said…
“It’s coming. Be patient.”
Shuffling my feet, I sighed….
all I do is wait for the light.
“I promise. I’m going to show you the light.”
And just like that a glorious streak went across the dark–
illuminating all in its path.
Shimmering iridescence that blinded my eyes.
“See, I told you, ” he whispered.
“It’s all there. You just have to open your eyes and look.”
My house is quiet.
Their rooms are empty.
There is no laundry in the hampers.
There are no messes to clean up.
There are no diapers to change.
No faces to wipe.
There are no lunches to be made.
No 3 p.m. drives to school for pickup.
There was no rushing around this morning.
It’s silent. A deafening sort of silence. Almost mournful.
My head is loud.
The voices frantic and scared.
I try not to listen. I try to tune them out.
But they become deafening.
The silence is an unwelcome friend.
January 13, 2016
adult, boys, children, family, growing up, life, life lessons, motherhood, poem, poetry