she lights the room with her smile, well-practiced over decades, a gracious nod, a coy wink, she is masterful in the art of ladylike-ness, her voice like silk, never veering from script, lilt of laughter strategically slicing through the din of conversation, charming, ever charming, polite, nice exuding familiarity, sensuality, chastity… she’s an illusion, perfection in red lipstick, powdered porcelain skin, sculpted by shape wear suffocated by the tyranny of oppressive opinion maintaining the status quo keeping the peace
once upon a time she was fierce, a wild child, smart, inquisitive, intuitive, magical, a budding creator creature connected to Gaia, calloused feet muddied from stream-tripping, and forging untraveled paths she hasn’t forgotten the girl but secretly she loathes her, deceived by the lies repeated to her by those she trusted most
years from now when the porcelain cracks like an eggshell, she’ll emerge, granted by the fates the gifts of age and wisdom as she sheds the chrysalis that has held her through life’s tempestuous seasons to emerge fresh-faced, etched by sorrow and joy body softened, tracked by stretch marks, age spots, her once glorious golden locks salted gray, brittle-thin, oh how she will emerge magnificent boisterous, full-throated, opinionated having found her voice…her truth at long last
the girl will remember spring, come winter you may find her barefoot, tripping streams, revisiting paths forged in youth, where she’ll dance with the fairies, finally free count yourself blessed if you glimpse her take care to listen to her song, however brief, like a lullaby in the darkness holding us until dawn…alpha and omega with a smattering of lunacy in the in-between a life full lived, a force of nature silenced when Gaia calls her home
there are moments when you bark at me “you’re driving too fast, too slow, too close to the road’s edge” as if i am intent on killing us both i forget in that hot minute that it is the pain screaming, not you not that i am entirely blameless, but your wrath outweighs my crime and in that bitter moment of raw helplessness, I ignore the pain that haunts you, that haunts us, that thing we dare not name, by joining your bloody diatribe regretting my loss of control the very second my defensive outburst pollutes the space between us, daggers stabbing our silenced broken hearts, our shared brokenness magnified…
when hope was a thing I imagined you walking when hope was a thing
i know I can’t possibly fathom the relentless pain you’re suffering, the endless hours trying sleep it away, the losses… your career, your plans, your independence…the least I can do is drive…just drive, please forgive my forgetfulness the pain has changed you… changed us both
“How are YOU doing?” a friend asked the other day tears gave me away
I feel it in my bones hours before the first drop when the sky floods gray and heavy, my knees scream my back aches and my hair becomes a web of straw clinging to my head…my thought process grows sluggish…and I think the very best I can manage is a nap, a very long nap in fact wake me up come spring when the rain is sweet and cool not this bone-chilling deluge that drenches fallen leaves grinding them into loam tree limbs overhead stripped bare, unable to shade the carnage below oh that it would snow, this season in between has lost its charm the letting go, the letting go… to death…I feel it in my bones
she dances a slow dance with death, barefoot, draped in purple, to music only she hears, whispers on wind tips, in and out from the shadows, balancing between dark and light, need and want, pieces of herself plucked from her core like the leaves of autumn called to sleep at the feet of their mother
she dances a slow dance with death, slipping deeper, deeper into the darkening night, eyes fading, heart jaded, breath growing shallow, voice silenced to a whimper, donned in purple darkened from tears long shed from wells gone dry praying for winter snow to gently wrap her in silence, where blessed sleep waits, that she might finally rest…that she might find peace
i share space with feral cats who glare through me with wide green eyes plotting my demise, I’m sure of it perched up high ready to pounce when I turn my back, waiting for me to close my eyes, their invitation to settle onto my neck, paws strategically pressed over my mouth and nostrils purring diabolically, conjuring nightmares that rouse me awake, gasping for breath
were it not for the fact that I feed them each day…quality pâté, tasty treats and kibble that they unapologetically retch while begging for more, i’d most certainly be a goner by now
and yet there are moments when they brush against my leg, purring sweetly or roll on their backs inviting me to give their bellies a rub or two, but never three, before nipping my hand a reminder, they didn’t need rescuing, my penance for lifting them from the wild, a lifetime of servitude, and knowing my place silly me for ever thinking any cat could be domesticated
~kat
Another poem today… taking advantage of some down time. Hope you and yours are doing well!
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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