“What Is It You #Fear?” – A #Halloween #Poem

scary

Sleepy Hollow

“What is it you fear?”
He asked, “My dear sir…”
As he coiled his finger to the sky.

“Is it the Devil, or Me?”
He asked, with a nod,
as if affirming an “Aye.”

“Is it darkness? Death?”
He asked leaning in
As his eyes grew brighter and wide.

“Is it the manner of death?
He asked with a smirk.
“For to know, you’d need only confide.”

“I fear nothing!”
I cried, as I pushed him away.
“Not, you, not death nor the manner!”

“But here you have come,”
He stated appalled,
at my angry assertion and banter.

“I’m here for your blood,”
I stated quite plain.
“Yes, yours–for you’re nothing to fear.”

“You think you are brave,
But you’re simple—a fool whose feet should

have tread far from here.”

“You mistake me kind sir,”
He said with a hiss.
“Your head shall be mine, wait and see!”

“You’ve lost yours it’s plain,”
I said backing away.
“Your new one will not look like me!”

Away I did turn,
to draw on the beast
and slice him like servings of pie.

“I too shall draw sword,”
He cried as he wielded
And took his best swing, as did I.

“A fight to that death,
you so gleefully speak of!”
My voice cracked as I stumbled and fell.

“Though down on one knee,
I’ve no pity for thee,
And I’ll find you again once in Hell!”

“I’ll cover the hollow with blood!”
He did shout.
“I’ll carve you until you are dead!”

“I once trembled at you,
but now bid you adieu.”
I said as the beast took my head.

pumpkin

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Lately Nothing Fits

Lately nothing fits

Everything expands and contracts around me

Like a balloon going from hot to cold

Cold to hot

Full to empty

 

Where is the light?

I know it’s hidden there behind the clouds of doubt

Growing roots beneath the surface

the seeds of doubt and the seeds of confidence germinate

side by side

Their roots intermingle and sprout,

both reaching for the light.

 

Whose leaves will roll out  and catch the golden rays?

Whose buds will bloom?

Which will attract the buzzing bees?

To which will the bee fly and pollinate?

Which will shrivel and die and which will drink that light?

 

Lately nothing fits.

Everything is too tight or too loose.

The chair too small.

The bed too hard.

The porridge too hot.

 

The world…too big.

 

You Never Know What You’ll Find When You’re Cleaning Out Your Closets

Holiday Cleaning…BLECH!

However, sometimes you can stumble upon some things you haven’t seen in a very, VERY long time. Those cupboards and shoe boxes can take you back in time. The only problem is, you most likely won’t end up in Narnia.

As first loves go, mine was a real shit storm of awfulness. I was naive, wide eyed and very inexperienced as a young woman. I thought I had it all together but…HA! Of course at the time, I had no idea how awful it really was. Mine may have been the textbook example of the sweet young girl swept off her feet by the bad…and I mean really, really bad boy.

Without going into the gory details of what was a horrible chapter of my life, I wrote…a LOT of poetry. Some of it was so awful that after discovering it today, I disposed of it immediately after reading them.

Two of them however were especially interesting. One kind of set the stage. The other, symbolized closing the curtain…and burning down the theater.

In reality, it took a great deal of emotional and physical damage to actually close that curtain for good but as we always say, all of our experiences, both good and bad, are what formed the people we are today. I suppose it’s okay for me to wish I’d have opened a different tub of clay though isn’t it? I mean, I still don’t know what the lesson was in living inside of that nightmare for almost two years. I have to believe there was a reason though and that somewhere deep down, those scars are doing me a world of good.

So, with that being said, welcome to my lovelorn, damaged, scarred and tortured 19 year old brain. I refuse to believe my heart had anything at all to do with this horrific experience. Yes, it really was that bad.

Remember…I’m not saying these poems are good. I’m saying they came from somewhere genuine and very deep that I am so grateful I didn’t have to live through twice.

Those Three Wordshearts

Do you say it with a dry eye or do you say it with a tear?

Do you say the words with a hesitant voice and shaky lips or do you kiss the words into reality and then whisper?

Can you blink and turn your eyes to the moon and feel what your heart cries out to speak?

Might you try laughing freely, giggling the phrase and have it dance off your tongue–each word a fancy new step you’ve been dying to try and you’ve finally found the right tune to do it to?

Should you say it to yourself and hope that he hears it through your hands as they touch him or while your heart beats against his when he holds you tight?

Are the possibilities endless and the horizons of your dreams unreachable or is it really easy and effortless to speak the words you long to experience?

You cannot hear these words for they are more than the ear can compel or the brain can comprehend, the flesh can feel or the heart can contain.

They reach into your soul and grasp the life that flows through your veins.

They travel throughout your body, never leaving for all eternity, if it is real.

The creator himself may claim the occasion when these words are spoken but once they enter your soul, if it is true, honest and everlasting, no matter how they get inside, they will always mean…

I love you.

Now…down comes the curtain. Be afraid…be very afraid.

 

STOP!

Like slivers of ice invading my bloodcrime

Each one sharper than the one before as they weave their way through my body and into my heart

They keep on moving through me

They strike every nerve, tendon, muscle and bone

My flesh feels like a lump if crawling insects, chewing on me until I ache all over

My guts are mush, melting and yet frozen in a sea of endless pain and torture

 They keep making me cry and hurting me and they

never

STOP!

Phew…I wish I could go back in time and give that poor girl a big hug and tell her how amazing she turned out! 😉

Don’t Forget You’re #Human

Meltdown

I do sometimes…you know.

I forget I’m a person.

I forget I have needs.

I forget to take care of myself.

I forget to work on my own problems,

because I’m too busy thinking about someone else’s,

and worrying that they are alright.

If and when–or even if I actually did meltdown,

no one would ever see it.

I’m just not that person who needs an audience.

No need to unpack,

I don’t have any baggage anymore.

Cry alone.

Meltdown alone.

Refocus alone.

Continue on…alone but never, ever lonely.