Tag Archives: Pain
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Would Tears Help?

29 Oct

I was in a decent mood until you said that. The perfect sentence to pierce through my shell, my armor, my stronghold.

Only you have that weapon. Only you have that power.

Five or six words, said in the wrong tone, on the wrong day, and I am a puddle of tears. Wondering why the sun stopped shining, why my heart hurts, why I can’t breathe.

The one who holds my heart, my love, my world, has said something just right to turn my world on it’s ear. West is now down, red is now blue.

How does one cope? How do you recover?

I realize those words were not intended to harm me, that this day, this part of the month, this time, is really the culprit. It still hurts.

My tactic is to avoid you, no eye contact, speak when spoken to. My hurt and confusion are in the way of thought and logic.

Tears? Would tears help? Would they release this pain? Would a wet pillow and a pile of crumpled tissues ease the tightness around my heart?

I don’t know, because this time I did not crumple… on the outside.

This time I used distraction, a change of scenery, a change of tasks to dissuade the oncoming deluge. Being honest, though, I think a release of tears would have eased this suffocation. Letting them flow, in secret. Letting it go, to leave me in peace. Instead, I tried to contain the pain. I thought I could control it. But it did nothing but color the rest of my evening with a mist of sad, sad blue.

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Even with all my over-active emotional life, I’m Still Into You.  🙂

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OblL026SvD4

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Outpouring Of An Eclectic Brain

13 Jul

He disappears

Though I see his face

His mind is gone

Without a trace

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This is neglect

This is pain

His ear buds in

I talk in vain

*

Anime and

B rated flicks

I can’t compete

With Kung Fu kicks

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So here I sit

Here I wait

Doing research

And plotting his fate

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Really, more wives should look into writing poetry. Those momentary feelings of loss and anger when he needs his guy time are great emotions to fuel that new poem.

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aE2GCa-_nyU

This song gets really cool when you realize that there were only 2 instruments used in the making of the music. All the ‘percussion’ is from beat box sound effects by the cellist and maybe one of the other guys.

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The Vulcan Wrist Wrap Experiment

Hopefully this wrist will heal quickly. While I can type, it hurts when I reach for things like the shift and enter keys. I have to move my entire arm to get to the backspace. grrr.

On the plus side this wrap he put on me (to keep my hand from moving wrong and irritating the strain) is too large for my dish glove to fit over.  Way to find the silver lining, huh?

Although I have yet to add to my ‘secret book’s’ word count, I have managed to put a few new thoughts into the plans for another book. So today has not been wasted.

I think (after icing this thing down from this typing session) I’ll see about adding a couple hundred words to the ‘secret book project’.

This really is too much fun: Having a secret.  It’s kind of exhilarating knowing that I’m the only person who knows what this little project is about.

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Alright! To the freezer for a bag of ice! 🙂

And maybe I’ll find a little acetaminophen, too.

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Keep Writing, You!!! 😉

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But I Will Not Cry For You

7 Jul

You raise my hopes

To watch my face fall.

You pull the rug.

You steal the ball.

But I will not cry for you.

I refuse to dance on cue.

*

You set me up

To go nowhere.

You watch my pain.

You don’t play fair.

But I will not cry for you.

I refuse to dance on cue.

*

You catch me

Just to earn my trust.

Then laugh when you

Give the knife a thrust.

But I will not cry for you.

I refuse to dance on cue.

*

In loving you

I know much pain.

Is this my life?

This hope-soaked stain?

But I will not cry for you.

I refuse to dance on cue.

*

So many un-cried tears

So many un-cried tears

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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**Please understand it takes a lot of work to hold onto these melancholy feelings long enough to get a poem out. These are not cries for help. I am not in a bad marriage, nor am I suicidal. I am merely a writer doing her best to explore her emotions to write the best poetry her little heart can produce.**