Disregard

Please don’t ignore
My heart
This love
Accessible and exposed
Without first
Commanding me
To leave.
Until then,
I am yours.

Where Do I Fit In?

how can a poetess, such as I,
a writer of love,
her desire for it,
her continued search
of its perfection,
be asked to step away
from her attachment towards
its existence, so that she
might find her place in someone’s
world?
they don’t know me at all.

Survivor

When did my confidence go to battle with my insecurities?
Why are they winning?
I know better.
I am better.
I will continue to thrive.
Go. It’s been done before,
I survived.
I would again.

Throwing a temper tantrum would never work.

Waiting patiently gets me nowhere.

Being my quiet self is far too dull.

All that is left is to use my voice, yet, the quiver I hear isn’t very convincing as I try.

Fearing judgment may keep me from the happiness I know I deserve.

Wanting to be a playground, but instead I’ve become too common.

Take what is yours, these words I hear constantly in my head, I used to believe they were meant for me to say to the one who truly wanted me.

Maybe it’s what I’m supposed to do.

Huh, it goes against who I believe I am, but being left alone is too.

Dominion

i imagine the comfort
like warmth snuggled in
under layers of protection
surrenderer me with victorious him

daylight taken with pleasure
my body with so much to give
leaves the master of my affection
a playground he accepts as his

a muse so confident
doubt unable to live –
stifled and erased, becomes
a union of dominion and submissive

From A Distance

cool wind drapes my shoulders,
as thoughts ride tides too high
for a woman like me.
unable to reach, nor smell the
scent of a life,
only read about
through my hazel eyes
obsessing.

no voice brave enough inside
to share what I need,
see
even dream,
proves leaning on another to name
the clouds above me is selfish.

and the sounds of morning continue,
breezes swirl, leaves fluttering
against each other,
while ignited rain clouds grumble
along side today’s dawning.
grateful for the noise,
which drowns, for another day,
my inability
to offer what builds
inside of me, hoping no one
notices the girl hiding.

Too much?

Listening to this on repeat today. And then my daily reading has me brought to tears. (As does much of what I’m reading today. A message is supposed to get to me, I think.

It has me focused on the last three words.

What woman doesn’t want to hear this from the man she’s devoted to? I cling to the idea love like this exists. I’m a hopeless romantic and a sucker for true devotion.

Pitiful Girl.

Adding the entire reading, as it might be helpful to another.