Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Careena Jul 27
I saw your eyes for one more time
In the place I'd always dreaded
An opened link, a closed casket
Left me weak and hazy-headed

I tried to meet her eyes abrupt
When I paid respect to your life
She knew my name, without looking up
Your soon-to-be, future wife

It took everything I had
Past almost every threshold
Feeling so much more than sad
Burying someone special
I'm so sorry. It was never supposed to be like this.
Careena Nov 2020
Dented Diet Coke can heart
Trained to be concave
Too shiny and begging
To be torn apart

To feel the sliding
Of aluminum against aluminum
Too smooth and intoxicating
To stop

Willing to
Let you
Do it, too

Don't cut your finger
Careena Sep 2020
How quaint to be let in
If only, for a moment
To view your perspective
From my perspective
To sit by your side
And watch you live your life
If only, for a moment

How brief were those encounters
Surprising and scarce.
I met myself there,
Barefoot and just beginning.
Experiencing and cultivating
The grass roots of my soul.
written while listening to Shrike by Hozier
Careena Apr 2020
When I do not feel heard
Sometimes I close my eyes
And let my mind take me
In the damp and cold night

I slip out my back porch
Close the door quietly behind
Tiptoing through my yard
So I won't wake you
Before you should know

I walk down the steep hill
Past my house
Farther away, deeper still
Treading on drenched asphalt
Without my phone

Maybe you should have realized me
When I was home?
Careena Mar 2020
What an intoxicating fallacy
Is perceived immortality.
The belief of ones vitality
Will be one's true, final fatality.
Careena Feb 2020
The thought
Of being passed up
By you
One more time
Hurts more
Than I can
Possibly bear

I've been told
I need to
Get used to it
My role
Is to
Be used to it,
Be understanding,
Patient and caring.

But what happens
If I need it?
I need to
Be used to
Not having you
When I need you most.

Here's a secret
I'd never tell you:
I'll never
Be used to it
Careena Jan 2020
The first time tripped
My heart up on the carpet
Crumpled beneath the front door to the sin
It wouldn't close because it was caught in
Between what I had believed
My whole life to be what
I wanted vs. what he wanted
To wait, which meant being waited on
Or to give in and be given
I said "okay" but wasn't sure
Uncomfortable expression, no longer pure
I cried at dinner in candlelight,
Bled for days,
Disenchanted, disengaged.
I confided the experience in a friend,
Surprised I ever did it again.

He had good qualities, but partially,
He was a jar with the lid on crooked
I was an indecisive and shaken up woman.
Never let myself approach the point of totally trusting
I controlled, but as did he, he tried his hardest
Made me think I would be bored elsewhere or that
Another man would never measure up
Next to the nature or intrigue of
What he did to me, I didn't refuse
But found myself hating him secretly.
I wanted it, but in a different way
Lusting wears off as rose colored lenses fracture
Never allowing myself to call him my master
With indentations on my wrists,
I removed lust's blindfold, and
Walked away from him, eighteen years old

The second time was my first,
With you, something new.
But when you've done it before
Doing it once more
Doesn't seem to be
A matter of eternal life or death
Simply a matter
Of consent.
And I wanted you, I wanted it to be
Very organic, very pure, true, with you
As the vision I had for a partner, all that time
Even with him, even though you weren't mine

So when the moment came, I couldn't think
Of a reason not to go back to your dad's house
And kiss you until my lips hurt,
******* until I had couch burn,
You holding me tightly afterward.
The intrinsic beauty in the loving look settled over your eyes
When you assured me you wanted me to feel just right.
The way we talked after, the smiles and laughter
A first time of security, not emotional disaster.
As if it were the question and you the answer.
As if that one time could replace all the moments
That it wasn't you, that we were apart
Thinking of you with occupied arms an open heart
Next page