I Wonder No More

At last, I know.

I know at last.

And that is all I wanted.

To stop wondering,

to stop guessing,

to quiet my mind.

I am normal,

but for me,

normal is not like

it is for others.

And that is OK.

I am OK, OK, OK.

Breathe deep, relax.

It is ok;

I am ok.

Not a freak,

not a curiosity.

I am happy

to know and

have a diagonsis,

instead of wondering.

I wonder no more.

I know.




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The Spring

The spring has been coiled a long, long time.

Then unexpecctedly, it starts to uncoil;

I, hopelessly, try to wind it back.

It unwinds more.

Then they hit;

frustrated, scared, and fearful, I am.

And slowly, I realize the fight is useless.

The spring will unwind no matter how much I resist.

I take a deep breath, and shed a few tears for things will not be the same.

Coiled the spring seemed normal because it had been that way:

That way for years and years.

But now it is time to let uncoil.

Let it uncoil to its natural state.

Let it uncoil all the way.

Breath deep, relax as it uncoils.

And look at the beauty of the uncoiled spring.




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The Compliment

He gave me a compliment that made me feel good.

I have been struggling, and he cares about me.

Sometimes I feel so alone, so lonely.

My body feels so cold in the fog

Look up and see clouds with the sun hiding.

But now, I see the sun and feel it shining brightly.

The warmth of his words have warmed my body.

I see bright days ahead with no clouds.

The memory of his words keeps me going.

they will keep me going through dark days as well as bright days.




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I Saw Him

I saw him last night

he was lying down next to me,

looking at me with sunglasses on

I was happy, so happy.

He is gone, but he was there.

And he told me something.

That soon I would feel the same.

What does that mean?

Is it a foretelling of my death

or just that I will find some peace?

I do not know.

What I do know is I miss him,

and wish he was still here.

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To Be or not to Be a Prisoner

To be or not to be a prisoner

that is the question that I ask of me.

I love him, but his jealousy

It makes me wonder do I love thee?

What awaits in the future?

How isolated should the prison be?

Should it be just me awaiting him?

Or should I include others for me to see?

Should the door be shut tight?

And I cannot flee.

Or should it be shut light?

And I can go out full of glee.

Love is strange.

It is a we.

So why am I a prisoner,

and he is free.




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Twice

Hardly know you, but I feel shook up.

Twice you have tried and luckily failed.

You have held the cup -

the cup of life and dropped it to shatter,

but it was not to be, so you were bailed.

Now my senses scatter,

as I breathe a sigh of relief,

instead of drowing in grief.

Will you try again?

Will I see you again?

I would like to

and I hope you would too.

I wish you the best.

I hope you do well.

In this life you find some rest,

and walk out of your cell.

To a path that is bright

with your own light.




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Blind Spots

You pretended to care about me.

You had me believe you cared about me.

You pretended to believe what we did was right.

You had me believe it was right.

You told me it was right.

You made me feel guilty, when I protested

You knew my blind spots and wormed your way into me through them.

You were a spider to my fly.

You pushed me to go further than I wanted to.

You manipulated me into doing what I did not want to do.

You told me what we did was right when it was not.

You had me believe it was the right thing to do, when it was not.

You cared only about yourself, never me.

You would have cared about me, if you had left me alone.

You instead left me with a hole that has turned into a scar.

You left me with a scar that still bleeds from time to time.

You left me with doubt about myself.

You left me with a pain that has never entirely eased.

You, who I still carry at times, still laugh at me.

You still mock me in my head for me believing you love me.

You, will I ever be free of you?





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