Gone

 

runnerart
Sprinter/Courtesy of Joe Vandello

if you said you wanted me
gone–
I’d run as if lightning
tapped
the soles of my feet

s  p  r  i  n  t  i  n  g

far away from your
fearful heart
carrying the pain
of loss on my
worried
shoulders…

that is, if you said
that is what
you wanted.

I would know
it is
what you need.

Mates, Soul… (An Audio Poem)

amysheraldart
Courtesy of Amy Sherald


Mates, Soul…
(An Audio Poem)

I could have been built
to last–a specimen of
honesty wispy in
airy ways,
yet, I floated back to
a place where my soul
melted into its flame.

It is said that a true
“soulmate is like a mirror,
reflecting back to you the
aspects within yourself.”
so why is it that
when I look at me,
I can no longer see
who I am,
who I was,

I can only see
you.

And in that moment of Me
seeing only You,
I know that the heart
has nothing to do
with reflection.
The soul designed
this birth centuries before
my knowing.

The soul delivered
without my consent.

I can only see 
you.

Fated in bloom,
wrapped into the soul of
another
that is mine
too.


I have been doing a bit of reading on soulmates and that’s what sparked this. Funny how learning about something that has been around for ages can get the brain working on an entirely different level–wanting, yearning to know more.

Never The Lover 

from his mouth comes
words that pummel
and prick,
calls you, “really good friend”
and you shrivel into
your body, disappearing for days.

you know your lane.
you stay in it.
they handpick the pretty girls
with taut breasts, full lips,
and better vision.
you tell yourself it is
your career choice,
your pregnant opinions
on life, love, and money.
you look in the mirror
and see the opposite of allure.

in your belly, you carry his words,
pressed into your back, kneeing
your bladder.
you convince yourself that it
is a loss on his part,
but deep down, you know
you are not the lover
he seeks, just the friend
who changed with him
for two decades, but
loyalty does not
open any doors.

so you fade into darkness
from the words you have heard,
from his space
and he wonders
why you are cut in half,
drained of love,
running away from
him.


“Highly sensitive people are too often perceived as weaklings or damaged goods. To feel intensely is not a symptom of weakness, it is the trademark of the truly alive and compassionate. It is not the empath who is broken, it is society that has become dysfunctional and emotionally disabled. There is no shame in expressing your authentic feelings. Those who are at times described as being a ‘hot mess’ or having ‘too many issues’ are the very fabric of what keeps the dream alive for a more caring, humane world. Never be ashamed to let your tears shine a light in this world.” 
― Anthon St. Maarten