scorn

Musical Selection|India Arie: That Magic

The Scornful Woman by Egon Schiele — 1910

she’d been hurt before —
this scorned woman who is learning
how to love again — live again.
I sit on my balcony and watch her
carry on with her day as if
the sun woke up just for her.

she saunters to her car,
pulls the door open, and
jumps into it ready for another
day of whatever it is that
she does for a living.

I keep my distance.
I speak when spoken to.
I do not draw good energy from
her, so it is my duty to make sure
our interactions are few.

my monster of a dog shows
her teeth at her shadow,
barks when she strikes the
ignition.
I take heed.

there are some of us who
cannot conjure up
a welcoming spirit — too stuck
in the past to allow ourselves to
witness the future.

too afraid to move forward
and march into something new.
I was where she is and
I remember how my soul
smelled.
I turned people off.

there’s always a bit of
magic around, enough to
push us into the light of day.
I think she will be
okay the moment her
feet touch illuminated ground.

I can’t take her there,
even if I do know the way — these
paths have to be walked
by those who need the journey.

I will, however, make sure
she has someone rooting
for her from the sidelines.
I think my sign is
big enough for her to see.


Originally published via Medium.

Tallulah

her penny tongue
don’t cost a thing,
she’s used to discounting
the boys in blue, black, or green.
Tallulah is a tower,
her arms hang at her sides,
slumped like bags of cotton candy
at the county fair.

I put in my two cents
when she asks “why can’t we
just build a wall?” and watch her
face turn into pruned bits.
her bitter lips smack
and screw themselves up
into a forgotten army.
she’s marching ahead
but no one’s stupid enough to
follow a one-track mind.

there are starving children
across the globe,
bellies plump from gas,
little knees buckle from
reflex taps, but Tallulah
wants to shut off the water supply.
she says, “they have rivers.
let them siphon water from
the dirt on which they walk.”
I have to steady my right hand,
it itches to slap her,
but I ain’t never been
cramped up in a jail cell
and I don’t wanna be.

Tallulah sits on her high horse
pressing the curls of her
inflated head.
the townspeople await her
signal to celebrate a year
without plagues, but Tallulah
ignores them.
one by one they die,
her authority cripples right
before her eyes.

Tallulah could’ve changed
the world.
she could’ve changed her ways.
But Tallulah was a
damn fool.

“Watchmen”

 

if I were ten years older,
would you come for me
like Sister Night chasing
Cal into a tiny closet?

would you watch and wait
with bated breath–your fingers
itching to tug at me in places
where darkness falls?

I thought I could woo you
with sweet words and
draw you to me gently before
first light of a naked morning,

but I was wrong.

you still cling to a masked lover
who’s afraid to reveal her
true self to you.

and I am done
charging down the streets
of hell, chasing after criminals
of love–empty from fighting
bad guys.


Watchmen is one of my favorite series on HBO. It inspired this piece.

I Will Not Chase You

Sébastien Conejo via Mixkit.co

You Are Free To Run Away

Communication . . . The human brain often relies on this form of connectivity — developing a bond through talking, hopefully, to better understand our loved ones and the people we meet. But how can we further strengthen a bond when we encounter someone who fails to communicate to us their need to leave, exit, and do away with us as their loved one?

Some people are quite savvy at discarding people like garbage. I have never been a ghoster. It really isn’t in me to just stop speaking to someone without learning, feeling, or realizing that this is perhaps what they want. If you are in tune with the air and space around you, moments of peace offer sound revelations. I have had to make two extremely tough decisions recently and both have broken my heart.

You know when someone needs space. If you’re a reader of subtle hints and can pick up on clues, you feel when someone doesn’t want or need you around. It really isn’t rocket science or an invasive study of some devastating happening in the body.

You. Just. Know.

And when you know, how you approach that situation can make or break your relationship. If you have come across ghosting behavior before, you know the signs. They appear without a warning. You do not get a caution light or an alarm. You just need to be prepared. What I have come to recognize as tell-tale signs of inevitable ghosting are as follows:

One-word responses.

They are no longer eager to speak to you.

You don’t hang out because there’s an excuse on their end — they are always busy.

They don’t return phone calls or respond to text messages when they did so in the past.

They aren’t the least bit concerned about your well-being.

If you don’t reach out to them, they won’t acknowledge you: a one-sided relationship ensues.

If there have ever been at least three of the above things taking place, ghosting surely followed. Therapy is teaching me not to hold onto people, not to cling to them regardless of the years invested or how we’ve come to be. I am learning that everyone makes their beds and everyone has to lie in them.

If we are faced with the potential ending of a long-standing friendship or relationship and it is not being communicated verbally by the ghoster, chasing after them won’t stop them from running — trying to get them to stay won’t ensure their presence.

They Want To Leave.

Let them. Move out of their way. If it is in the plans for them to return to you or reconnect, they will. But you have to be willing to let them run or disappear because it is going to happen and there is no stopping it. When walls are actively tumbling down, one person cannot stop them from falling.

You have to be open enough to the possibility of certain relationships reaching their end-date. It happens . . . It is life and life surely does not stop for any of us.

I am learning to appreciate the beautiful takeaways of loving these two people and holding space for them, should they ever pop back into my life for a season. Holding space, to me, does not mean waiting around for them, it is me simply having a spot in my heart ready for them when or if they ever return and loving them while they’re away.

It is me knowing that running is sometimes the answer to one’s problems and respecting that. It is me knowing that time shifts and people grow into beings we may not recognize and these strangers must flee away from us for however long it may be — even if it is forever.

Make no mistake, I am mourning my losses. I am grieving their disappearance and distance, but I will not chase them. I will not cloud them with my worry and my sensitivities. They want the air at their backs and new waves slapping their faces. I understand this and I have stepped aside . . .

They are free to run away.


Originally published in P. S. I Love You via Medium. The link share is a friend link as this is a piece behind the paywall. Thank you for reading.