The Beatles were wrong.
Sometimes, love isn't all you need.
With a blind eye, a deaf ear, and unending love,
Maybe we would succeed. . .
But words can't be taken back;
Things can't be left unsaid.
Distance is the silent killer. . .
And as I lie here in my bed
I think of you, and what we had.
I hope you have good dreams
But what is more? I realize that
*I don't regret a thing.

Head spinning.
Hands sweating.
Heart racing.
Silence.

After confidence is gained,
I take a defensive stand at the podium.

All eyes are on me.
Every single one.

I'm expected to make a speech,
After all, it's my sister's wedding.

That unnerving silence pervaded the room.

I open my mouth,
But no words come.
Only raw, and painful memories
Of an unforgiven past.

***** this.*

I throw the microphone onto the floor,
And retreat to my car,
Never to be seen again.

For me,
writing a poem is like
opening the floodgates to my soul.
My thoughts
pour onto the tattered pages;
I let go of emotional control.

For moments,
just a few precious moments,
My racing mind finds unmistakable peace.
I finish,
and return to my mundane routine
finally feeling like I can breathe.

What about you?

I stole a glance across the room,
And prayed you wouldn't see. . .
I hoped you'd think of everything
'Cept what we used to be.

It was a blessing, and a curse,
But neither saw it then.
Only now can I look back,
And see you weren't my friend.

They say love blinds a person,
But, our "friendship" left me torn.
You'd use me up, and dry me out. . .
Then leave me useless and worn.

My grandfather's watch went
Tick-tick-tock
Serving as my constant comfort.
Even when his heart had stopped,
His watch still tick-tick-tocked.

You gave me one of your shirts for Christmas.
And I wear it all the time.
That way, you'll always be around me,
Feeling like your mine.

Soon, I'll get a light gray hoodie
That has a red canoe.
It's sleeves aren't quite the same as your arms,
But they will have to do.

The warm breezes toss
My hair all about my face.
Spring, You have been missed.

Each night,
You sleep next to me.
Every night,
I watch your chest rise
and fall with each deep breath
You take.
I can't help but wonder
Each and every night
What I would do if
your breathing suddenly
*stopped.

I spent last summer on the lake behind your farm,
Casting my line, with no luck.
The sun beat down and freckled my face;
The wind tossed my hair about.
I discovered myself that summer,
And the funny thing is. . .

I never caught a fish.

"I hate my parents. They don't understand,"
She uttered into the phone
"They refuse to see it from my point of view,
And they won't leave me alone!"

I tried to console her, but there were no words
That could heal the pain in her heart.
She continued to tell me of the judgment at home
And how much it tore her apart.

Her parents were older (considerably so)
Than mine, or anyone our age.
They were very traditional, with old-fashioned views,
They were stuck in out-dated ways.

Week after week of silence passed,
No relief was found.
Her parents were devastated, as was I,
When her body was lowered into the ground.

The pressure built up, the hurt, the shame,
She felt that she couldn't survive.
I belive it was these thoughts,
That compelled her to take her own life.

Why do we judge in the way that we do?
Why insult, bully, and tease?
Smaller egos, and kinder hearts,
Could put our world at peace.

Your rusty gate screeches ajar,
Signaling my arrival.
(I know that you see me,
But I tip-toe ever so slowly
Down past your beloved car)

I firmly knock on your bright red door,
But you pretend to be out.
I'm sure that you're there,
But you're probably just scared
Of me, who you refer to as "*****".

I no longer need you as a crutch.
In fact, I don't need you at all.
I take a bat to your windows,
to your door, my key
(Guess you won't be forgetting me.)
Hope your repairs don't cost too much.

My body's sprawled out on the beach,
Salt water slowly nearing.
While I do not enjoy the water,
My sun-burnt legs are searing.

Cool water covers my sand-caked thighs,
Washes discomfort away.
If life was like the beach,
Troubles would be soaked with that salty spray.

I look to the sky,

I stare at the ground.

What do I see?

Nothing.

I glance to my left,

I peer to my right.

Who's standing there?

No one.

I wonder what has happened,

Where can they all be?

But I am so focused on myself,

That is all I see.

Let's bully, lie, and threaten.
Words will never hurt, right?
Physical wounds heal much faster,
Than the holes found in my heart.

Go ahead! Look at my face,
and be fooled by my plastered smile.
Maybe the hurt is not showing,
But that doesn't make it futile.

I'll do my best not to cry in public.
I don't want you to know of your power.
You're just a monster, driven by hate.
I can put up with you no longer.

Baseless words
fueled by hate.
Just keep
your mouth shut.

I walked into Walmart,
All eyes were watching me.
The mothers grabbed their little ones,
Hoping they wouldn't see.

They'd stare at my enormous belly,
And shake their heads in shame.
   Instantly judging me,
No love, just blame.

I was there for my vitamins,
I wanted her to be healthy,
I was determined to be a good mother,
Though I was never very wealthy.

When I was six months along,
Three boys came up behind me.
They pushed me onto the ground,
And kicked until they'd killed my baby.

Their identities were never known,
And they got away with it.
My "mistake" was too much for them,
They thought I was unfit.

I would have been a **** good mom. . . .
But they chose me to harm.
Because of their hateful decision,
I'll never get to hold her in my arms.

In the meanings of my many tears,
the memories wander.

I sat by myself
In that corner booth
Until you looked my way.

And when you did,
Somehow, I'd lost the courage
To say what I'd come to say.

I wanted you back
In my embrace,
I wanted to be in your arms.

I wanted you to hold
And protect me, to calm me
When I'm alarmed.

You approached me,
With a sinister face. . .
(A face unfamiliar to me)

You made it clear that
I was, in fact, the last person
That you wanted to see.

When you uttered those words,
I'd not a clue as to
What to say to you.

I grabbed my purse,
Stood up and thought,
*"Our parting was way over-due."

I watched you play that violin;
your forehead wrinkled with frustration
as your fingers fumbled
with each bumble . . .
but I thought it was beautiful.
You have yet to play for long,
but you're really doing well!
I say these things, to your deaf ears,
for you refuse to hear
that your playing is beautiful.
Your determination spoke wonders
of your motivations.
You'd never give up,
even if it was rough.
P.S.) I think you're beautiful.

Those stiletto heels click-clack on the floor,
In your appearance, you clearly invest.
That model sized body swanks through the office,
With that push-up showcasing your *******.

Your eyes light up as you parade around the office
And the men try not to stare.
You wink and smile as you pass them by,
Catching the light in your hair.

Your goal is to have the attention,
Of everyone, every day.
How will you do this? Simple!  
You allow those hips to sway.

"Relationships are a funny thing,"
That's what my papa said.
(This was his excuse for why
OUR relationship held barely by a thread.)

We were never close,
My papa and I.
I'd try to fix us,
But he'd be preoccupied.

When I hit my teens,
I hit 'em hard.
Those boys and I
Went way too far.

I'm all grown up now,
Wanting to get married
The man who's interested
Has never varied . . .

He's smart, and kind.
He's ironclad.
But more than anything,
*He's just like Dad.

Designer clothes.
Designer shoes.
Manicure.
Pedicure.
Highlights, too.
Your facade is immaculate,
but you don't need to be told.
You put up a front,
and think nobody knows
the real you.
That insecure woman,
is much more beautiful
than any surface you could summon.

Her tear-filled eyes glance down to me,
But she quickly averts her gaze.
She knows not what to do at that point,
For she can only change her ways.

"What do you do when the one that you love,
Makes home-life seem but a war?
And what can you do when words aren't enough
To heal the perpetual sores?"

I smile sheepishly, and keeping my gaze down,
I let the thoughts race through my fragile mind.
After a few silent moments, I look up and say,
*"Mom, it's time to say goodbye."

I look into the mirror,
but who's looking back?
She's trying to please everyone,
to make up for what she lacks.

This girl craves approval,
from the man two hours away.
She's crying out for attention,
by losing all that weight.

Who is this girl looking back?
Surely she can't be me.

Close your heavy eyes.
Let Sleep bless your weary soul.
The day fades away.

Color coded schedules
written into her agenda
tell the wonders of my life.
Speaking to the efforts
(which seemed futile at the time)
of the pilot's ex-wife,
who, despite her best endeavors,
could never seem to
convince them that everything was fine.
You see, the children,
who were never really children,
could read between the lines.

I hear "I love you" every day,
and many other things.
These words warm me
from head to toe;
yet, they possess a certain sting.

"Actions speak louder than words",
I always say in return
to a certain man,
who doesn't have time
to care, hope, or discern.

I turn my head away,
mumbling of false guarantees
(both past and present).
I look in his eyes, get out of the car,
and think *"Remember me."

The shattered glass
severed the silence
between our breaking
hearts.

If you only knew
the details of my past...
If you could give me
a love that would last...
If you could heal me
without a cast...

Then I'd tell you everything,
and this gap would be surpassed.

If you would forgive me
and hold me tight...
If you would just see me
in a different light...
If you could do this
then I just might...

Let the skeletons in my closet
come into the light.

I need you to love me.
Is that so hard to do?
I have the gracious love of others,
but the thing is, it's not you.

I want you to want me.
Don't you want it too?
I can see the longing in your eyes,
it's one you can't subdue.

Don't lie to me.
Can you tell me the truth?
Foundations are not built on lies;
let's not be uncouth.

Don't make me cry.
Are you empowered when I'm broken?
Could these words that bring such pain,
just be left unspoken?

If you do these things, you'll get my love;
my love, my time, my heart.
I trust you, and I love you.
Please, don't tear me apart.

I've lied to those I love;
I've done things I regret.
But forgiveness comes, like the mourning dove,
Reminding me to not hurt again.

I've stolen time that wasn't mine
To take, to use, to prosper.
I've picked a fight; I've paid a fine
As reconciliation for my sins.

My last confession, I try to hide
From others, and even myself.
But it doesn't matter how hard I try,
I will never be perfect.

Broken promises and broken bones;
Makeup to cover her scars.
He beats her, yet she won't accept the fact
That only leaving will keep her in tact.

He'll hit her, then confess his love.
She'll fall for him all over again.
Every time she's bruised and battered,
He doesn't mind that her heart's been shattered.

She can make excuses for him,
And she'll continue in doing so.
They will be to no avail...
The bruises tell a different tale.

Screaming threats across the kitchen,
teardrops falling on the floor.
Children hiding in the corner,
attempting to escape the war.
When the neighbors hear the yelling,
the police knock at the door.
They demand an explanation,
but they get one nevermore.
My friends and teachers are concerned,
it shakes them to the core.
I excuse his reckless behavior,
but I can't do this anymore.

In the dreams of longing,
the dreamer hurts.
Knowing life is not this way,
here in dreams he cannot stay;
yet, these thoughts he attempts to avert.

Oh dreamer! Enjoy the fantasy!
Experience what life cannot bear
before your youth disappears,
before your joy turns into tears!
Dare to dream everywhere.

Escape the food flyin'
family
frenzy
that is my life.

Slipping through my front door,
I've waited for this all day.
My shoes and coat
find their way to the stairs;
my gloves are put away.

I sneak upstairs,
trying not to be heard,
remembering those days
when being home was preferred.

Those days flew by,
and seemed like a scheme.
I visit them frequently,
but only in dream.

While I push thoughts away,
I hear my mom humming.
I try a small smile,
and new memories start coming.

Listen to the wind, boasting her great strength

Knowing of her cleansing powers, yet hurting all the same.

She rustles up old problems passed, and renews the hurt and pain;

She brings about a certain feeling, that of emotional stains.

What can we do to change the way things are?

Accept the wind for who she is, accept her for her sins.

If we can finally do this, then our process -- it begins

listen to the wind,
and
                   learn
                                        to
        ­                                                      live
  ­                                                                 ­                      again.

I believe in second chances,
Everyone screws up.
I'm gracious with these second chances
Especially with those that I love.

When liars and cheaters are revealed,
I could wield vengeance and hate.
But why wreak havoc on them,
When I could forgive and forget?

While second chances are important,
Two chances are enough.
Improvement must be made by then,
And boy, it will be tough.

Here is where I rest my thoughts;
Here is where I silence the voices
Telling me, "you're not good enough"
They're all incessant noises.
All my life I've spent *******
By my overwhelming fears
With abundant negativity
Falling on deaf ears.
If I leave my worries here,
And look through positive eyes,
I'll be happier - fulfilled.
Dismissing all the lies.
Here is where I rest my thoughts..on the wings of hope.