Review
Looking over old poems from my youth I see the lowliness I had for myself. The decorated cockroach had a better status than I gave myself. I would go on and on over tinder moment of life's destroying particles. Yet even through the nastiness I still came back out. How?
I even hoped that death cradled me. Not in the sense of dying or even committing one self to death. Just the comfort of knowing someone missed me. Someone might actually show up at my funeral. I often wondered about that. How would people lean in and cry.
Morbid I suppose but life was not peaches. Nor was it sour milk. I was mundane. I never really thought that I would become anything more than a quiet mouse. Maybe expand into a nice branch of art.
Yet I found a life. I had children. Greatest achievement any woman can have is her children. And so many people still want to chide me with being a bad mom. Yet none dare to ask the reality of the entire situation. I dare not expand because it still, to this day, is the worst parts of my life. Being separated thousands of miles only to live.
Ah. Though I did find comfort and find a way to become a person again. It is sad how getting away from the morbid thoughts and poisoning ways, I was able to be me. For a short time.
Twists and turns. Lies and deceit. I was not oblivious of them. I was deeply intertwined with them, gladly. Still I know the twists began to eat me. The rages of anger or jealousy, of ignorant people kept me soaring. Just as I took a downward spiral.
So far that the chair and the ladder were removed from my grasp and behind. I let it happen. It was the best and worst experience for me. BUT it taught me something just as wonderful. A moment of sweetened bliss.
It was short but thoroughly enjoyed.
There was sorrow. There was pain. There was anger.
Yet.
Joy and happiness was exploding within. A hint of contentment settling as I saw myself as a radiant person once more. Kind of mundane but a bit better too.
Surely that aspect of being mundane and abhorrently boring a daunting experience, yet, no. It was bliss. A way to finally find out who I was supposed to be.
Sure I crack sometimes. Breaking down into tears and forgetting that all is well. But the reality is that no matter what comes about now, life only get better with each new step. I couldn't have asked, nor prayed for a better result.
Simple.
Perhaps even quite boring. Yet I am me. That is good enough.
I even hoped that death cradled me. Not in the sense of dying or even committing one self to death. Just the comfort of knowing someone missed me. Someone might actually show up at my funeral. I often wondered about that. How would people lean in and cry.
Morbid I suppose but life was not peaches. Nor was it sour milk. I was mundane. I never really thought that I would become anything more than a quiet mouse. Maybe expand into a nice branch of art.
Yet I found a life. I had children. Greatest achievement any woman can have is her children. And so many people still want to chide me with being a bad mom. Yet none dare to ask the reality of the entire situation. I dare not expand because it still, to this day, is the worst parts of my life. Being separated thousands of miles only to live.
Ah. Though I did find comfort and find a way to become a person again. It is sad how getting away from the morbid thoughts and poisoning ways, I was able to be me. For a short time.
Twists and turns. Lies and deceit. I was not oblivious of them. I was deeply intertwined with them, gladly. Still I know the twists began to eat me. The rages of anger or jealousy, of ignorant people kept me soaring. Just as I took a downward spiral.
So far that the chair and the ladder were removed from my grasp and behind. I let it happen. It was the best and worst experience for me. BUT it taught me something just as wonderful. A moment of sweetened bliss.
It was short but thoroughly enjoyed.
There was sorrow. There was pain. There was anger.
Yet.
Joy and happiness was exploding within. A hint of contentment settling as I saw myself as a radiant person once more. Kind of mundane but a bit better too.
Surely that aspect of being mundane and abhorrently boring a daunting experience, yet, no. It was bliss. A way to finally find out who I was supposed to be.
Sure I crack sometimes. Breaking down into tears and forgetting that all is well. But the reality is that no matter what comes about now, life only get better with each new step. I couldn't have asked, nor prayed for a better result.
Simple.
Perhaps even quite boring. Yet I am me. That is good enough.
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