I made her a home
Not only in my heart but also in my arms
A place she can leap into when she's happy
A place for comfort when she's down

When it's cold out,
room temperature is guaranteed in here
When she's stressed out,
relaxation is promised in here

Make these arms your comfort zone!

there on the scaffold
          colorful cacophonous screams emanating from workman’s coveralls  
           captivated her
           rebel in real life



engaged by her lack of hero worship    dedication to her art     the common cause
            her fire drew him to her

and so they began to weave their tapestry

it tells a story
tumultuous
traveled
torn
tragic
timeless
true

brilliant hues
life
as art
compatriots
rebels
lovers
newsreels  
public pride
personal degradation
recovery
reconciliation

back on the scaffold
             cacophony revisited

back on bedrest
              resilient resisting unceasing unaccepting


scaffold and ego deemed titanic-like         demand artistic license  uncompromising
                     crushed   crumble  disintegrate  
               lose face    credibility

turn tale
and run to the one deemed feeble
whose
spirit knows no bonds                        
      as body knows no freedom

yet
is Hercules for them both

until
the day her plaits were drawn crisscross on her forehead
decorated with huge glorious blossoms
      plucked from the patio

lips kissed

last breath

a pair destined for the history books


a love
            rollercoasterlargerthanlife




FateD?


  










Frida & Diego: FateD?    

© 2017 rochelle foles

you want to be in my life
you want to make me smile
you want to cherish me
then go ahead
nothing is stopping you
my door is wide open
the windows are all unlocked
i am fully exposed and vulnerable

you want to hold my hand
you want to call me pretty, buy me flowers
you want to say i'm yours, talk for hours
don't hesitate
i long to feel whole just as much as you
my doors are wide open
my barricades are down

please, join me in my hearts humble home

Something I've written
Till hope did drop
It was a beautiful and sad moment
Until the pen broke
And the ink became my blood of sadness
In the end, this how this story concludes
Without you...

Sometimes I feel like I am just a supporting character
A sidekick in someone else's unfathomable destiny
Maybe that's why I am the poet, and not the muse

I don’t know how to help people
without inviting them
inside of me.
I’ve always hollowed myself out for others.
Allowed people to hide in my veins,
or make a home out of my rib cage.

I don’t know how to save you without giving up
everything about myself.

I starve myself of love  
To give it to others
But it’s never enough,
Sometimes I wonder why I bother
Yet I can’t stop emptying myself
To keep people full.

Sometimes I wonder if I give enough,
Like maybe if I were to scrape the inside of my bones
I’d find the love to give you
That would make you love me back.

Most days days i’m reminded
that my body is an ATM machine.
You see me as something that gives
I don’t have the option to take
And maybe that’s how it will always be.