there are those
who read this stumbling
bumbling
work who are truly
beautiful
compassionate
people

thanks beforehand
for understanding me
without judgement


IN SEARCH OF THE LOST CHORD

i've been searching
all my life
for the lost note

there is a chord in the
cacophonistic chaos
which is my
existence
i simply miss

my otherwise
nimble hands simply
can't bring out
the magic
the music
the majestic
harmonies which
i hear in my mind
but are not translated
to my fingers

i believe it
is due to my assertion
that i was unloved as a child

i was not a planned
pregnancy
my mother fell
on her stomach and
i was a preemie

I was not touched
as an infant due to this
i was in an incubator

i was also
severely neglected as
an older child
due to my mother's
inability to cope
with two very small children
(I was born nearly one year after my sister)

I have also been
TARGETED
for twenty years by
by the
"CHURCH" of SCIENETICS
(name has been changed)

so if I am
slightly dark and
seemingly insane in
certain respects this is why

ONLY GOD CAN HELP ME

I've already learned
not to play my music
drunk or ******

but i am still
in search of the lost chord


♡ love ♡
Catherine

I am Muslim.
Full of mistakes,
And far from a good one.

I'm a ****.
Not too far from a hood one.

I know whoever reads this
Has been labeled before
And not always good ones.

But You and I are the same,
H.U.M.A.N.
Honestly Understanding Mistake And Nproving.
We can't ever perfect.
So for those with labels,
Embrace them.
For your only Human
And labels are just small puddles in the rain
So roll up your pants
And dance through the pain.

To my unfinished poems,
the ones that will never see the light of day.
The ones that sit and pray
To be more than just a fantasy.

I need you to know that I’m sorry.
Sorry for not being brave enough to show you off to the world,
Sorry for not having enough strength to sew you up and make you perfect,
Sorry for not being able to give you enough so you could be just right,
Sorry that I didn’t have the strength to write.

To my unfinished poems,
The smell of coffee and stains of tears
Will always remain on your tattered pages.
The wails in the middle of the night
Of all the strife and plight
That I had to witness with my innocent little eyes.

To my unfinished poems,
Dry up your little eyes,
I know it’s hard to only see the night sky,
To never know the glimmer of light,
To be an incomplete work of art,
But darlings,
Don’t you see,
How even when you’re incomplete,
You’re still so very special to me.

The significance of the number three
Is everywhere
In religion and life
but the number three
Has a deeper meaning to me
Three sisters
Two green eyed
One brown
We are forever bound
Together
A tripod of love
Two would not do
Three is geometrically stable
The Love we share
I am eternally grateful

Sisters only we truly understand each other
because we all come from the same place
We all have been running the same crazy race

As different as we are the same
Saying things at the same time
Finishing each others sentences
As if we can read each others mind

Keeper of all my secrets
Loving me despite all my weakness

Laughter through tears
and tears through laughter
Help wipe away the tears thereafter

We will always be Sisters and Best Friends
but more importantly
We are Survivors
We can do anything
if we have each other to lean on
Our *Tripod of Love

i am the Ripped Wallpaper.
i am the Dusty Boxes in the attic.
i am the Toys thrown carelessly into the back of the closet.

I am Irrelevant.

i am the Holiday Decorations,
taken out only when needed.
i am the horribly Ugly Dress,
worn only when your mother makes you.
i am the Book that you Hate
but are forced to read for a grade.

i am only Relevant when you Choose.

but ripped wallpaper can be Fixed,
dust can be Swept Off
and toys can be Rediscovered.