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Sarah Mae Feb 2012
on any given night i am the forgotten daughter
i sit at the dinner table, where the food has been pushed away from me
conversations starting and stopping in between food being shoveled in
please pass the vegetables, answered with a loud sarcastic response
i have become unwelcome in my home, i can feel the hatred shoving me to the door

i wonder if i was ever welcome here, if this was ever my home
everything that resembles me has dwindled away, never to be seen again
if there was another place for me to dwell, i'd be there
instead i sit alone in this cold room, listening to the clatter, the slams, and the yells.

when i bring someone into this house they always feel only half welcomed
they briefly feel the pain of my everyday life
as time has passed i have realized i have no rights in this place i occupy
i have trouble even calling it home anymore
there is no other place for me to turn to
no safe haven where i will be warm and fed
the only release i have is sitting inside my car

people see it as strange, the girl that sits in parking lots reading
the girl that doesn't want to go home
i have long lived through inquires about my location
asking what parking lot i am in today
strange that all my belongs are inside this room that isn't mine
yet i only feel at home inside my car

i returned today, to dinner made and a table set
my mother set a place for me which she hasn't done in a long time
i helped her with dinner as soon as my shoes were off
we sat at the table, my father, mother and i
there were no words spoken to me aside from one brief remark about the mashed potatoes
my father, he sat reaching over my plate to grab whatever was in front of me
there is no communication between us
the tension is thick, this angry man can't even look his daughter in the eye
when words finally hit the still air, i thought briefly, the three of us would converse.
maybe a question about my day, maybe a remark about the letter from a college
instead, the words that spilled from my fathers mouth were only about male family members,
thousands of miles away.

i am the forgotten daughter and i'm sitting right next to you

i have overstayed my welcome, and that's clear to me now
Sarah Mae Sep 2011
There was a time when I wanted someone to love so badly
I would stay up late at night imagining his face
I would fall in love with the imaginary words he would say to me
The graceful way his hands moved when he spoke
A very comforting laugh that made the world stop
I knew someday that he would stroll into my life, if I thought about it long enough
Convinced that he was out there dreaming me up, we'd be together soon

I wanted a man with deep thought, a warm and large heart
Someone that would sing along with me, and be silent with me
Knowing when to do each would be the difficult part
But not for him - he would know me right away.
We would laugh at how long it took us to find one another
We had been so close for so long, how did we not see it?

This man, this imaginary person that I have loved since my youth
He has not come.
I have been fooled thinking that he is alive in many others
Eventually though my heart is betrayed and I see that it's not him.
His shape and demeanor has changed over the years.
I fear that I have altered this man so much that he is no longer capable of being real.

If he is though, I'll find him eventually.
mind sludge.
Sarah Mae Sep 2011
there is a stigma that comes along with being me
you look at me and you see a strong woman
but really i'm a terrified girl.
so many people have come in and out of my life
they have misread my intentions
they have misread my emotions
they have thrown me away
there is never the chance for romance
there is never a chance for love
you see me as such a strong outgoing soul
but i'm not.
i push myself out the door everyday
i would rather lay around and be stale
i just see things i want to change
i just see people being mistreated and i want to help them
i want to help them change their situations
because i can't seem to change my own
i want you to see me
i want you to know me

but i know that's not the reality we're meant to have.
mind sludge that just needed to be released.
Sarah Mae Aug 2011
i have yet to set roots in anyone
my mind and my body always wandering
through the streets of foreign towns
the only constant has been a vacant strip mall and interesting strangers
the men i meet on these streets have come into my life like a storm
their attention pouring down on me, drowning me
nothing has ever compared though, to the feeling i get from you

when i walked into his apartment i felt as though i'd been here before
there was a man long ago, they could have been brothers
two worlds colliding together right in front of my eyes
i wasn't sure if i should hold on tight or run away

the fire faded and i was left standing cold alone on another corner
my heart was beating so fast i thought it would jump out of my chest
how i could i let this happen again and where would i go from here
there was nothing left to do but continue to walk away

i walked down that street, got into my car and drove away
finding a place to stay for the night because nothing feels like home anymore
quickly adjusting my clothes and my attitude i picked myself up
looking back now, i should have known better
i should have seen the signs, but i was blinded by his intoxicating conversation
once again.

there was only one thing left to do
waltz straight into that tall venue with friends at my side
hand the girl with the pink and black hair my ticket
and forget my troubles
remember that your roots are not planted there
they are in your heart
and your heart belongs to the man on stage.

that's the moment i realized that i was home.
a stupid poem about things ending with one man, and then realizing how much i love tom gabel.
Sarah Mae Aug 2011
There has always been excuse made for the behavior my father has displayed.
The mean spirited remarks at family gatherings, feelings hurt and egos bruised.
Everyday routines have turned into the **** of a joke
There is nothing you can do to stop it. He'll always be an *******.

There once was a time when I wanted a relationship with my father.
I used to try to find ways to communicate with him, in the plainest of ways.
I tried for years but . . .
Nothing ever worked, I failed every time.

Spending your childhood afraid of a parent and never feeling loved
It leaves you broken, and feeling unwanted.
There were times when I looked at the father/daughter relationships all around
Jealousy overcame me. I cried at night because my uncles were nicer, my grandfather was nicer.

Little did I realize back then as a child that things would work out.
I had father figures in my life, just not a father - I had many fathers.
My seven uncles would protect me from everyone and everything.
My grandfather would teach me to swim.
I would get a love of the outdoors from them.
I would learn to ride a bike, tie my shoe, mathematics, and self-defense.

My father is still a hateful, passive aggressive man.
Someone that no one truly wants to be around,
I think sometimes that even the TV anchors despise him -
Maybe they can hear him calling them names and yelling at them when they cant pronounce a word correctly.

Time has passed by, I'm in college now.
I'm a part of the International Honors Society.
I've made the Dean's List every semester.
My father has yet to acknowledge my accomplishments.

Somedays it hurts, others I could care less.
When I run into my uncles now, they see me two ways.
The girl they helped raise, and the woman I have become.
My uncles always greet me with a kiss hello and a compliment.
I know they're proud of me, that's what matters.

The man who is a seated statue in front of a big screen TV doesn't care
The men who showed me the world and continue to encourage me do.
I remind myself that I am more like them.
They are the ones who raised me.
I don't really care what people think of this, I just had to get it out.
Sarah Mae Aug 2011
i've been wondering lately why i haven't been on the level
my world seems tilted and uneasy at each turn
there has been something missing from my life, and it's you

the pounding on the hardwood floor directly in tune with the beat
my foot stomping along
the bass with an infectious tone and vibration
better than any lover i have ever encountered
your voice is raspy and your words are strong

this is the point where i nearly lose my balance
as the crowd pushes in on me rushing toward the stage
for a moment i forgot we weren't alone
once i realize the room is full it hits me again
i'm taken back to the center stage and there you stand
we are one. the crowd, you and i.

it's a flicker in time when i know that we are all on the same page
i put my arms around the two people next to me
we are now singing and swaying, stomping and stumbling
there is nothing like it in the world.
people call me crazy, but you were my first love.

— The End —