Lying on the beach
Surrounded by murmurs
Of conversation
Children laughing at play
And the soft rustle above
Of heart-shaped leaves
Dancing in a brisk breeze.
All once familiar
Yet now foreign,
It occurs to me ,
That I no longer fit,
Have ceased belonging
In that comfortable way
Of former times
When you loved me
I no longer fit
In the world of couples
Though they kindly try
To include me
If only occasionally
It just isn't the same
Any longer
Feeling fragmented
I dole out bits of myself
Almost stingily
Guarding carefully
My inmost thoughts
Smiling as if all is
As it should be
But it isn't
And maybe never was
When you were here
I felt safe and whole
For the first time ever
Secure, wanted, needed
Now I am a puzzle piece
Of an odd shape
That no longer fits
In the larger scheme
Of humanity
Perhaps I have lived
All these years
In a mindset
Of childish fantasies
Now suddenly dashed
Like letting go unwillingly
Of Santa and the Easter Bunny
Maybe this is Life
Seen without benefit
Of rose-colored glasses
Maybe, maybe not
Eileen Auger
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
Lying on the beach
Surrounded by murmurs
Of conversation
Children laughing at play
And the soft rustle above
Of heart-shaped leaves
Dancing in a brisk breeze.
All once familiar
Yet now foreign,
It occurs to me ,
That I no longer fit,
Have ceased belonging
In that comfortable way
Of former times
When you loved me
I no longer fit
In the world of couples
Though they kindly try
To include me
If only occasionally
It just isn't the same
Any longer
Feeling fragmented
I dole out bits of myself
Almost stingily
Guarding carefully
My inmost thoughts
Smiling as if all is
As it should be
But it isn't
And maybe never was
When you were here
I felt safe and whole
For the first time ever
Secure, wanted, needed
Now I am a puzzle piece
Of an odd shape
That no longer fits
In the larger scheme
Of humanity
Perhaps I have lived
All these years
In a mindset
Of childish fantasies
Now suddenly dashed
Like letting go unwillingly
Of Santa and the Easter Bunny
Maybe this is Life
Seen without benefit
Of rose-colored glasses
Maybe, maybe not
Eileen Auger