T is for Tears, #AtoZChallenge

Tears stain faces,

Clinging like evening shadows.

Lips tremble, kissed by cold,

Moisture stolen, chapped, blistered.

 

Saline soaked cheeks

Drenched in humiliation.

A blush of remorse,

Red haze to tinge a guilty conscience.

 

Strangers crowd into a stuffy room

Clothed in dark, robes of night,

To pay respects to a deadly visitor.

The breath of death on a cool breeze.

 

Their faces stand clear,

Set in stone, gray and grave.

Eyes blank, but knowing.

What do they know?

 

Madness. It must be.

But no one shivers,

Shaking with loss.

No one mutters regret.

 

Panic. Disorder.

Non-existent for the moment.

Such an odd display,

People just nodding their heads,

 

Ignorant to disaster,

Or maybe it was planned.

Tears stain faces.

What wipes the slate clean?

 

 

S is for Sacrifice, #AtoZChallenge

Slowly, dragging out this one stance,

the apologetic nod of approval

convinces wavering confidence

to continue in the inhalation

of time and tranquility welded as one.

Matched like playing cards

dropped in sun’s dripping rays,

melting upon upturned faces,

fading out to the corner of the mind.

Blank and dull, cobwebs collect to a colony

while a drowsy smile slides out of tune.

A wreath of regret drifts lazily in the evening

sending smokey shivers down the spine.

Sweet toxin sipped from a gold chalice

dribbles down a craving throat,

hungering for this appetite of desire.

Memories turn blurry, smudging focus obsolete.

Eyelids droop to battered lashes,

crying out for some liquid relief.

 

 

N is for Nuisance, #AtoZChallenge

I am the fly buzzing in your ear,

flitting this way and that,

just out of reach of your

frantically waving hands.

 

I am the parched, cracked sponge,

caked with gummy grime

and specks of ancient food.

 

I am the lip in the sidewalk

that thrusts from the earth,

uneven and begging

for your foot to make contact.

 

I am the nail in your tire,

letting your air escape

in a slow hissssss

until your tire sinks,

drooping against the pavement

as I proudly perch in my new home.

 

I am the haunting whisper in your head

that calmly reminds you,

“You aren’t good enough.

You can’t do this.

You are flawed beyond repair.”

 

I am nagging dread.

I am lingering doubt.

I am creeping fear.

I am persistent anxiety.

 

I am constant, unrelenting,

but you have a choice.

 

What will you do with me?

L is for L’appel Du Vide, #AtoZChallenge

I don’t remember where I learned this phrase from, but I found it fascinating that such a phrase exists. The definition from Wikipedia is this: “L’appel du vide, literally “the call of the void”, is a French phrase used to refer to intrusive thoughts, or the urge to engage in destructive behaviors during everyday life. Examples include thinking about swerving in to the opposite lane while driving, or feeling the urge to jump off a cliff edge while standing on it.”

I tried to make a poem to capture this phrase’s meaning, but I found it really difficult! Here’s my attempt:

 

L’appel Du Vide

This is it.

This, this is the moment.

The moment you look down.

You look down and see,

See an escape beckoning

From high above.

 

On the perch of a cliff

The world seems quiet.

So quiet thoughts

Sneak in on silent haunches,

Padding by common sense.

 

Look down, down,

Down into the abyss.

Imagine the fall,

Tumbling over and over,

Wind rushing by,

And this strange silence

That pervades your senses-

This moment of clarity.

I is for I’ve Done This Before, #AtoZChallenge

I’ve done this before-

Watched a cold sunrise

In the darkest blue

That matched your eyes.

 

The grey dawn rose

With mist seeping through.

Stood tall with skin drenched in thought,

Stood small when I thought of you.

 

I’ve seen this before-

Decay in evening sky,

Sunlight dying with a soft glow,

The moon was your reply.

 

Night came creeping in

To replace a faded day.

It seemed light was useless,

But that was always your way.

 

I’ve felt this before-

Pressure breathing hot.

At first I thought I recognized,

But now I realize I forgot.

 

A stranger’s face blurred my sight,

Lifted my hands to match the stars.

You shined so bright I couldn’t see your heart.

No, I couldn’t find the light without some dark.

 

I’ve been here before-

In an unfamiliar place.

I thought I’d be with you,

But you’ve grown that stranger’s face.

 

I won’t cry anymore,

And I’ll take back my blame,

Because we’ve both changed so much

Still expecting to be the same.

 

I’ve done this before-

Watched a cold sunrise

In the darkest blue

That matched your eyes.

G is for Grown-up, #AtoZChallenge

All I wanted was to paint my pain

With forced brush strokes across

A gleaming canvas.

To let it sparkle like

The sinister Cheshire Cat grin,

With teeth short and blunt.

Nothing like my own

Sharp canines

That rip and tear,

Salacious shreds fluttering from

My gaping maw.

I would use thick oil paints,

Stacking them layer by layer

So you’d have to dig away

To get to the vulnerable truth.

All I wanted was for someone

To see my artistry and understand.

Past the pretentious philandering,

Past the obnoxious pleas

Of obvious words that read too loud,

Too blatant, too bold.

Subtlety was never my specialty.

It’s passivity or aggression.

I hid for so long,

A lost child – never made it

Out of the blanket fort.

I opted for false comfort

In the company of feathers and cotton,

Soft fabrics that could cradle my head

And soak up hot tears

That leaked endlessly from

Sunken eyes.

Now I’m all grown up,

Or, I have grown

My anxieties and frustrations.

They are adult sized

In this kid fortress of my brain.

Now it’s time to let them out,

The pent up problems

Of a first world child

Who misunderstood the world.

Because being taught morality

Is not the same as living it.

One Year

It has been a year since I created this blog. I got the notification this morning, and it’s caused me to be a bit reflective today. A year ago I felt desperate. Trapped in a life that felt no longer like my own. Stuck down a path that I felt like I had willingly chosen, but not truly considered the consequences of my choices. I created this blog as a way to escape. Writing has always done this for me, allowed me my piece of escapism. It helps me sort through my emotions and come to reason with my over-analytic thoughts. Even though I have not been able to post consistently since my move to California, I still think starting this blog is one of the best life choices I have made. It started me down a road of my own choosing, and steered me in a healthier direction, towards life.

One year ago today, I felt like I HAD to share my writing about the struggles of having a parent with Alzheimer’s. I think about why this was, and I think it’s because I’m not able to communicate in conversation the way I am in words. What I really needed was a way to find my voice, and to feel like I was finally being heard and understood. I found that here through the WordPress community. I found people who read my words and connected with me, and shared their own stories that I could relate to. I read stories that brought tears to my eyes and was told I had done the same. I opened up this channel of human connection and interaction that I know I was lacking in my life away from the keyboard, and honestly, I think that has changed my whole life.

I got the courage to apply for my MFA in Creative Writing. This is something I have always dreamed of doing, but never thought I really could. The kind of dream where a child says, “I’m going to be a movie star when I grow up!” and you say, “Sure, kid, whatever you say.” That’s the kind of dream this was for me. Mostly, I was terrified that by applying I would find out what I always dreaded….I wouldn’t be good enough for a writing program. I got an email saying my documents were ready to be viewed and I literally started shaking. I read the first three words “We are delighted” and my eyes began to tear. I got accepted! I actually applied for two different programs, music and writing, and got accepted to both. This is honestly something I had not thought was possible. Something this, seemingly insignificant, blog helped me facilitate.

I have three jobs that I LOVE here in California, and my life is probably the busiest it has ever been. I cannot promise to post or read with any sort of consistency, but I will not give up this blog, and I will not forget the positive change it has brought about in my life. I would like the people I have interacted with to know that I still think of them and their blogs often. Something I read in a post or comment will still make me smile or be a topic of conversation. I cherish the bloggers I have crossed paths with time and time again, as they have been my teachers in this new domain. Thank you WordPress community, it has been an incredible year.

Reflection

With every shuttering blink

my eyes adjust to approaching darkness.

It creeps in unannounced,

a strange visitor intruding.

A Weekend in Norfolk

I grew up in the very small town of Norfolk, CT. It seems fitting that the week before I leave this place I’ve considered home for 24 years, the town puts on a celebration of its rich history. The weekend was packed with activities, music, and exhibits showcasing the way this small town has developed over the years. And by that I refer to what I always tell newcomers, “Norfolk is a town untouched by time.”

Night

There is something exciting about the night. Light abandons life to hide with shadows that once danced fearlessly about on winged toes, softly grazing the quiet grass. Mystery absorbs the scene, stealing away fact stored deep inside the brain. This is the time thought provokes your heart and you dream of things unattainable in the common daylight. The sun retires to another region, no longer protecting your sense of security. All at once it’s a dog-eat-dog world, and everyone is thrust wildly into battle, a lone soldier. Crazy ideas spit at your mind tempting fear to seize control. The result of this: a body locked in terror, frozen without the hope of resilient youth springing into action. The taste of wild melts into cautious mouths, releasing a flow of once careful words. Nothing matters as it did before. In this black cloak of eternity freedom reigns.