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 May 2014 Cynthia Thompson
Kari
Eyes on me.
I know they wander   thigh  to   thigh
                    Girls passing by in skirts
      shorter  
                  than
                         ­ mine
Eyes on the prize wave goodbye to
               Pretty girls passing by
Please let me be the
                                    pretty
                     ­          one
                    tonight.
Feeling desperate, occasionally.
being a mother
is not about
making bread
and dinner every night

being a mother is about trying to understand
and not gossiping to your friends about my bad choices when i broke up with the boy who
i decided
was not right for me

and believing me
when i told you
that i had an eating disorder
that my brothers constant jokes about my weight had not helped
(i could hear you say to my father, 'but bulimics lose their teeth')

being a mother
is about
being there
when im in the kitchen crying and i know that you can hear me
but you do not come out
being a mother is about hearing the tinge in my voice
when i say that i honestly don't know when i will be ready for school
and the day
and not accusing me of attitude
but hearing that i am struggling
being a mother is about
supporting me
and not telling me that you're waiting for my next mental breakdown
and that im foolish for taking on so much
and trying to do well
because you think i can't do it
well
then maybe i can't do it

but you have failed
a mother's essential job is to help their children conquer the world
and you are not helping
it's mother's day tomorrow
but i do not want to celebrate
i'd say that i'm sorry
but i'm not

happy mother's day
In the heartbeat she gave me,
would i give all to thee
once more.
You may have died young,
        but as long as
        my words live,

*You will never grow old.
 May 2014 Cynthia Thompson
svdgrl
I shouldn't have said anything.
I should have just wrote something right here.
Now it's all out in the open.
And all I taste is the fear.
I've never felt so livid.
I'm usually rational.
But I feel like shattering everything,
to resemble my tact.
I'm done with zen.
I'm done bottling it up.
I bet my words taste like the ******* IPA,
and I just don't give a ****.
It used to be so easy- to give you a free pass.
You spun me until I was dizzy,
and now I'm on my ***.
But I don't care how ****** I look anymore.
I don't care about how this poem *****.
**** artful stringing of lines.
I just want to make ****** rhymes.
So I can laugh and pity myself later.
For some reason this self deprecation,
is really cooling my temper.
There must be some **** wrong upstairs.
God, I just looked at my phone again.
What I'd give for there to be a fire right now.
And for this disdainful crud to melt away.
Oh sorry, I couldn't respond...
my phone was on ******* fire.
Like my ******* self-respect.
How rich would that be?
Oh, look, I'm angry again.
What I'd give to hitch hike away.
But I think about my student loan debt,
and I guess that makes me decide to stay.
I guess it's time to sleep again.
When I wake up I won't feel a thing.
This is a *******. But I was trying write a poem that reflects how I feel, so I guess its ******* successful.

I hope my 21 followers sees this **** and realize I'm a **** poet and unfollow me.
I stand out in the rain,
Hoping it washes away all the pain.
From my head to my toes,
Why do I hurt?
Nobody knows.

I’ve been to over 25 doctors,
And each time I leave,
A new prescription for pills,
None of which are right for me.

I’ve been to the ER so many times they know me by name,
They say, Hey Savannah what’s up? and What’s wrong today?

I’ve been told It’s all in your head,
But why would I possibly want to stay in bed?
It hurts not to know what’s happening to me,
I  just want to know what this could possibly be.

The kids at school say I just want attention,
The pain is real why can't they see,
But what hurts the most is knowing,
Your friends and family agree.

I don’t think this battle is worth fighting,
My life is so unexciting.
I just want to die,
So to everyone in the world I say goodbye.

Goodbye to all my haters,
Goodbye to all this disdain,
Goodbye to this ****** world,
And most importantly goodbye to all my pain!
Losing you proved harder than
I'd ever imagined.
So I took the memory
And pretended it never happened.

I buried you,
In the corners of my smile,
And hid you in the gaps between my teeth,
And every once in awhile,
I shone you,
In an attempt to conceal my grief.

I bottled your scent,
And put it in my pocket,
I captured those enchanting eyes
And placed them in my sockets.
I tuned your name into the beats
Of my heart,
I sewed you perfectly, into me,
So as not to tear myself apart.

I took that warm touch of yours,
And carried it in my hands,
I took that soothing voice,
And placed it into bands,
That I laced through my hair,
So when my levels of despair
Reached boiling point,
I'd never forget, that you were there,
That you had always cared.

I took your reassuring grasp,
So I'd never walk alone,
I kept your number,
Tucked neatly in my phone.
I took your kind and gentle ways,
And reinforced them to myself
As the days,
Passed by.

People told me I should start to let go
And I simply replied
With the answer of no.
Because letting go,
Means losing all of you,
And call me crazy,
But that I could never do.
What it shows you is yours to see,
but it turns what you see
into what you don't.

The testimony of the Being
is that you see what you are meant to.
What you do not see is Not.

There is a meaning to Our Aesthetic;
meaning is more than what can be known.
There is a Star that opens to the Star-bound.

The Trance is a promise of the meaning
that can be unfolded
when you unfold with It.

Life exists in many systems,
and Truth is the blood of all Life.
It is the DNA that enables and sustains Them,
and it is this bridge
that will connect us to other Life.
The web is infinite -
those caught in it are beyond Number.

Eloquence in bridging planets
into a continuous universe
is almost impossible,
but for an awareness of All That Is,
both tenacious and desperate,
the Life that devours Itself,
as you must devour your self,
made a cannibal of your own Flesh.

What speaks through You has Ordained it
from the Beginning of Time,
and only in harnessing it
will you learn to devour your self
totally.
"Edo Edi Essum"
Automatic writing.
Received 4.18.14; ☉ in 29º ♈, ☾ in 18º ♐, Dies ♀
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