Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
pnam Feb 2021
I am sending you a picture of mine
Wish I could color it in your new glow?
Keep me in beautiful divine eyes of thine
How else will I bear few days apart so slow?



Hindi -Translation

Aapko aaj ki ek tasveer bhej raha hoon
Kash mein usse aapke naye rangon mein rangoon?
Aapki haseen nigahon mein sada deedar rahoon
Kuch aur dinon ka yeh intezhar kaise sahoon?
So you're happy now
with another man
at home with our son
I will always be his dad
you told me
and I thank you

Just so you know
I never stopped loving you
I never stopped being ****
but I never stopped loving you
when your skin is liquid
and your teeth rattle in your skull
I will still love you

When the earthworms
use your eye sockets as tunnels
and when all men have either forgotten
or are too scared to speak your name
I will still love you
you deserve to be happy
and you are right to move on
if you feel as though your dreams with me
are truly dead and gone
just know that I still love you
love the father of your son
Janna B Jan 2021
My (ex) mother in law says
She loves me,
she won’t say any more but
worries I’ll miss her boy
one day in the future.
I was his pride and joy.

My mother says
maybe the women of the past
tried harder.
Is there anything to rescue,
women must try harder than men.

I haven’t worried about missing him;
until now.
The relief has felt so liberating.
Relief from that pressure
to carry it all, do it all,
with a smile, without love.
A smile, a gesture, care my way
would have been fuel for a year,
but the silence felt suffocating.

I’d rather love myself
than smile and pretend that I’m loved
by the husband in my bed.
For our kids, for me, I’m better alone.

Now, though,
that worm in my ear.
Will I regret this more next year?
More than the grief of this family broken?

I cannot see that I will.
Joy is breaking through;
but —
What do I do with this worm?
My mothers. Make me worry about my choices; but oh my goodness I’m finally making progress and I feel so much lighter and able to heal.
irinia Jan 2021
The mourning is
about it never being
the way I needed
it to be.

My life itself a
disturbance of mourning

Stands in my life. Before me. The
dead girl under the bed
her skin transparent as mine

disappears. I come out
and there is no mother. Sometimes
she appears and there is no telling what
attracts her warmth. Approaches and departs.
Becomes desire,
the loot of her mourning.

Empty womb pillow. I am not
enrapt. Its’ tufts flap my fringe.
Behind me, at my sides
stands mourning.

I have only to be busy with your burial.
Sharpening flint to a pillar
pile to a mound
and turn from it.

It is gone
forever.
And I am.

By Noa Vardi, M. D.
Janna B Jan 2021
This crazy, changing life.
It’s been down, sideways, up.
Who knows about tomorrow.
These ups - will they stay?
I feel they can;
they want to.
They depend on me
feeding my soul
being true to myself,
my children, my heart.
Getting to know myself again
And I feel so much better
than before.
When I first met you,
I had yet to face you..

Memories dug deep,
Presented as a heap..

Resemblance of me,
Your semblance deceived..

Ungrateful eyes,
And a fateful life..

Stories untold,
And memories unfold..

A gaze and a stare,
Within the rage and despair..

Two strangers meet,
And sane they leave..

To horizons unseen,
And boundaries within..
You can communicate via eyes.
Next page