I want to yell
Outburst into tears like a hell
Until my throat gets dry
Until I could no longer start to cry

I'm so tired
Utterly ruined and cried a river

I just want to feel better now
and get over it

To be loved and cared
That's all I want
I want my heart gets what it deserves to be,
and it deserves to be happy

...
walking
in the scorching
heat of mid summer
with torn shoes
in cracks bearing feet
he was feeling
acute thirstiness
~~~
struggling
to cover his
deprived stained face
with dilapidated wrapper
a profound smile
spread on his
anhydrous lips...
~~~
having
the glimpse
of the bunches
of dense shadowy  trees
on the bank
of a perennial
stream
~~~
pushing  
or just crawling
under the
shadow of trees  
he dragged
himself nearer
to the river
~~~
splashing water
drenched quest
half closed eyes  
mortal, aliv, relaxed
eternally blessed
in the lap of
mother nature
...
(c)  deovrat- 21.04.2018

I wrote about you
When we were only 10
But you acted older than that
A hastily made rhyme it was
About how you caught me
Hidden behind your shelf
In those unfair games of hide and seek
We used to play
I wrote about you
When we were 16
Trying to wade through life
In those years of youthful adolescence
When you had a growth spurt
And your beard began to grow in patches
A not so hastily made rhyme it was
About the way your lips curled
when you smiled
And why my heart raced
when you passed me by
I wrote about you
When we were 20
You were still a confused mess
But partied as if
There was no tomorrow ahead
A free verse it was
About how much I craved
To trace your contours
And kiss those furrows between your brows
As you slept and I stared
Then covered you with a blanket
I remember we were freezing that night
We are 25 now
And I still write about you
More than half of my diary entries
Are filled by thoughts of you
The way you blink your eyes
The way you shake your head
Your random compliments
That make me blush and look away
The goosebumps that I get
When your hand brushes against mine
The embers of the setting sun
That I see in your eyes
I've been watching and waiting for you
But you still don't have a clue
How can you be so oblivious
To a yearning so profound
Help me believe in magic
give me a hint or sign
Let me witness a miracle
I've been searching all my life

She wears the long black dress of desolation
It swirls with heavy motion as she walks
It’s been in her closet many years
And she really never thought she’d need to wear it

When she finally takes it out, it’s dusty on the shoulders
And she freshens it with a dampened cloth
She is surprised that it still fits her
Since she’s grown much bigger over time

Her whole world lays in shattered pieces on the carpet
She needs to gather them into a bag
To put out for the Friday trash-man pickup
But though she looks, she cannot find a broom.

She puts the bigger pieces in a basket
And collects the tiny shards on masking tape
It’s obvious it can’t be reassembled
So tomorrows hopes must stay there on the floor.

She does not choose a souvenir to keep
From the wreckage of her plans and dreams
She’s seen the circus and the rodeo
So why save pieces of the carousel.

She tidies up and shuts the door
To live in other nearby rooms
So she won’t step on memories
Or trample hopes into the rug.

Tomorrow she’ll tie a red sash on her dress
Don hat and gloves and make her way
Across the bridge to meet the road
That leads to new beginnings
And a broom.
                 ljm

She said she didn’t feel good.
They said what else is new.
She said this time it’s different.
They said we’ve heard that too.

She said I think I’m dying
They said give us a break.
She said I’m even crying
They said those tears are fake.

She said I think you’ll miss me.
They said you haven’t gone.
She said it’s getting darker.
They said don’t carry on.

She closed her eyes in silence.
They said come on let’s go.
Her form grew cold and rigid
At last they had to know.

She wasn’t just pretending.
The thing she fought was real.
Her story had no ending.
And her life book they could seal.

They said we’ve been so stupid.
Uncaring and unkind.
She tried and tried to show us
But we were just too blind.

And now she’s gone forever.
Who’s going to run this place.
They don’t know which they’ll miss more-
Her efforts or her face.
ljm

I hear the rhythmic clapping
And feel the pounding of feet on the ground
As dust swirls and dances around
While I sit facing the sun
In all her divine beauty.
Encased in the wood of the red gum tree,
I am at peace.
Burnum carves my totem outside
Surrounded by holy men,
Loved ones and ancestors.
This is my signifier and protection.
I am Miki the moon
Recently returned to my tribe
Heeding the call of the spirits.
My people mourn deeply
But know I will come again
To be at one with them,
First I must commune with the great creator
Rainbow spirit of the sky
For now is the time for dreaming.

This isn't a poem, this is written from the heart of a hurting girl...

I am that girl, the pure title, and definition of fearing commitment. The funny thing, it’s the farthest thing I ever want to be.

Deep down I see marriage, 2.5 kids, white picket fences, and all the dogs you’ll let me have. Oh yes, it’s a beautiful future there, yet my so-called “relationships” last maybe a few months, because you throw words out there like love, and moving in together, being my rock and everything I long for. Yeah, I might say those words back, I may play along with what our wedding will look like, and that gorgeous ring that adds a beautiful symbol of commitment on my scrawny little finger and its beautiful because deeply that is what my poor beaten-up heart is yearning for. But instead, those feelings of bliss I so wistfully yearn for are replaced with panic and pure distaste for wanting stick it out and stay by your side.

So, what do I do? I run. I am the star of “Runaway from Stability”. Why? If you could answer that for me and fix me, you would probably be a millionaire and sell lots of books on it. And speaking of books, my shelves are littered with self-help books that only exist to make you think that I read them, but I don’t… I collect literature that fuels my fantasy that there is nothing wrong with me.

I can dig deep down and do the years of therapy for you and blame my father that never wanted me in his life, who constantly let me down... I can blame the fact I am a serial dater due to walking away time and time again... I can blame my mother, who by the way shares the same fear I do, and you could say the apple falls right next to the **** tree. (Love you so much, mom)... You could blame the men (more like “boys”) that promised me the world and broke my heart after all I saw was them in my future.

Yeah, sure the list goes on with who I could “blame”. But the problem still exists that I can’t change, I can’t get attached, I can’t get hurt. Yeah yeah yeah…. Can’t means you won’t, but maybe that is it. Maybe I won’t budge. Maybe I absolutely won't stick it out despite all the right words I know I need to consistently hear.

And you come along, you’re sweet, you’re understanding, you’re that list my best friend told me to make of qualities we've all made throughout our lives after each heartbreak, after each "I am done dating" of qualifications a man must have before you date them.

And you know what?... I like you... So much, I could even say every ounce of me has fallen for you. But that my inner fear comes up like ***** and that's it! There is no chance holding it down…

I don’t think I can ever be the girl with hearts in her eyes that doodles your name all over my notes at work. No, I won’t be… I used to be that girl that was lovesick with an unrealistic crush on someone.

That little girl won’t come back. I miss her, but she’s not there...

Yeah, I am sure you’ve Googled all the articles that tell you how to deal with a “Commitment Phobic Girlfriend” and yeah, I’ve read them too which spiral my mind out of control how to fix myself. My friends all say the same thing, “You’ve got to be happy with yourself before you can be happy with anyone else Bri!” ---insert eye roll--- So far that’s all I got because this really doesn’t make me happy, and maybe that’s it?

Life keeps crumpling me up and spitting me out and I deem myself a pool of chaos, that I am not really wanted if people knew the truth of how broken I am inside, how much I don’t respect myself anymore because of my commitment-phobia-self-proclaimed-title…

I don’t know why I chose to write this article, maybe because I am not the only one? A cry for help? The attention YOU THINK I am wanting... Ha, no...

At least I can hope I am not the only one who struggles with this battle, and I am sure I am not... But why? Why is it that way?

(Heck, maybe a therapist wouldn’t be a bad idea at this point. YAY! Progress! ---insert another eye roll---)

I do know this, despite everything, I have learned the true meaning of love, (Crazy right?!) Because some of you I have run away from, love me, and always will... You've shown it, you've proven it even. And yet STILL, I believe in my heart I am truly unlovable.

To my friends who know the phobia, the constant relationship hopping, you all love me still, and that's hard for me to wrap my head around. You all are my rock, I love you all so very much. And thank you, thank you for not giving up on me in my train-wreck of a life because I could never do this without you.