Carsyn Smith

Carsyn Smith Jun 2013

There was a thief in my house
He crept in late in the night
He let his flame run wild
Ate my desk, my chairs
Danced on our bed when
He let his flame run wild

My heart's ablaze
Given from a late night thief
Please! Call 9-1-1!
This flame just brings grief
Bring Firemen!
This smoke pollutes air
He let that flame run wild
Now I'm just ash

Bury me deep but
My heart still burns
Fetch my love, let him see

Let him see his heart burn like mine
Yet he'll walk away, feeling fine
Late night thief, my love, killed me.

Carsyn Smith Jun 2013

A Life's River

Life is like a river,
ever changing, never stopping.
The river is supposed to take our worries,
our flaws, our mistakes,
and carry them downstream -- far away.
But what of the items that sink?
The worries that get stuck to the rocks?
The flaws that wash up on shore?
Branches fall from nearby trees and
while they sit there, they trap other things --
things that were on their way to being forgotten.
If life's a river,
what are the fish that choose to swim upstream?
Life is like a river.
Some patches are rough with white water,
some sections are smooth and soft,
others are full with piles of stones ---
testing our cunning and flexibility
Memories are painful --
but sometimes we must go back upstream
and remove the things that hold us there.
If not, our journey downstream
will become haunted by ghosts
that should be resting.

Carsyn Smith Jun 2013

Strong as Glass

A window beside a child's bed
can be so many things.
It can be a killer of dreams,
a waking light in the darkness,
Or a savior from nightmares,
a torch in the dark dungeons of a haunted castle.
That window beside a child's bed
is so much more than it seems.
It's an escape,
a portal from this world to another,
It's the bars of a cage,
a reminder of seclusion.
This thin sheet of glass next to a child's bed
is as strong as bones.
It traps things inside,
dreams, nightmares

smoke

The window is as strong as glass,
letting nightmares rule, and suffocating dreams, hope; life.
A window beside a child's bed,
it was a killer of dreams,
a savior from nightmares,
an escape,
the bars of a cage.
It was a portal that has taken the child elsewhere,
now this child will never be afraid or alone,
This child will be free,
will be loved,
will be missed;
will be mourned.

Carsyn Smith Jun 2013

Friday Night

He was so convincing
When he invited me over one
Friday night.
I never knew his intentions were
Just routine actions in the dark.
I did all I could, resisted his every move
I swung the lamp and its lampshade
Flew across the room, landing far away.
Flowers of blue and purple bruised
Up and down my body.
And now blood dots his carpet—
And my body lays in cold.
He took my soul, body, and stilled
My heart. He was a greedy man
Who still preys on women like me
And convinces them
To come over one
Friday night.

Carsyn Smith Jun 2013

A Window of Seasons

Snow was a carpet in the front lawn.
The tree loomed in the corner, proudly
decorated with tinsel and ornaments. Piles
of springs and cushions blocked the window,
blocked the cold breath of Father. But as the snow
melted, the Earth began to wake. The tree was
removed, place aside to be set ablaze, and the
leather and tweed was moved to let Mother
in. It was always open, letting the smell
of Her warmth float onto the carpet.
Little brothers liked to invite
the rainy ground inside, let
it splatter the wood and
coat the cushions.
When the sun
shone brighter,
hotter, machines
lured the sticky air
inside, and blew a fresh,
cool, breeze into an empty room.
Dust covered the furniture while the
dominant creatures retreat elsewhere. By
the time autumn comes Mother is growing
tired, Father is growing stronger. the sofas are
moved to make room for a painting or new lamp.
Father crawls in again and the sofas are moved to make
room for the tree, to barricade against Father, just like last year.
The cycle starts again, but with a new year.

Carsyn Smith Jun 2013

Where Tears Fall

It's the best place to cry.
It's the place where it all surrounds you,
Covering you, engulfing you, drowning you.
It falls over you like every pound of weight placed on your shoulders,
It falls and runs over your barren, exposed, vulnerable body,
And when it hits the floor -- its gone, washed down the drain,
But it's replaced by another, and another, and another,
Never ceasing, never pausing, never calming.
It beats at your back, your face, you chest,
Until your skin in red, sore, raw.
It's the place where you don't feel tears,
It's impossible to tell if they're yours, or the water falling on you.
It's the best place to cry,
The shower.

It's a good place to cry,
It's a mask that protects you,
Covering you, surrounding you, isolating you,
It hides every acid drop that rips away at your eyes and cheeks,
It conceals you from others, banishes their comfort,
It makes you alone, weak, vulnerable
They can't see you, they won't know these feelings, they don't care.
They can't see through their ignorance, so I've used it to protect myself.
It's a mask that leaves everyone none the wiser,
All you have to do is wipe the stray tears away.
It's a good place to cry,
Sunglasses.

It's an unexpected place to cry.
It's a scary place, because everyone can see you.
And the scary part is, they do nothing but watch.
The ignorance of the mask is taken away, replaced with clarity.
They can see tears, but they will choose not to acknowledge them.
Light reflects from it, hiding some features, but the picture is still there,
Staring them in the face.
They can see the redness, watch the tears as they gather and charge your dry cheeks.
They watch, but pretend they didn't see anything because they have chosen
not
to
deal
with
it.
It's an unexpected place to cry,
Glasses.

I'm sorry.
I shall take my pain somewhere else,
Take my suffering to the farthest depths of my heart,
in hopes it will not destroy my soul.
I will feed your ignorance,
your picture of a blemishless world,
And pretend I'm a perfect person, in your perfect world.
I will suppress each tear, choke down each sob, and straggle each tremor,
I'm exhausted, but I must keep running
Running away from your misguided decisions, your accusations, your falsifications.
They are like hot iron, branded into my skin like livestock.
So,
I'm sorry,
I will destroy myself to spare your ignorance.

Carsyn Smith May 2013

Never Enough

I can never do just in your eyes.
I'm never smart enough
I'm never pretty enough.
I'm never quick enough.
I'm never kind enough.
I'm never good enough.
I'm not dependent.
I'm too questioning.
I'm not your perfect child.
But that won't stop you.
It won't stop you from making me a mold
And forcing me inside.
It's too big of a mold
Like an oversized sweater
Or like trying to wear your fathers coat.
I'm an ant and your asking me to fill a mountain.
It's not enough to just love me as I am.
No.
I'm never enough.
I'll live and die with your great expectation
Hanging over my head
Out of reach.
All because I'm not good enough for you.