Still waiting when everybody’s gone
not able to step out
in the bright sunshine
that’d kill all hope.
Still waiting for you to call
and beg me to return,
knowing all too well
you would never
love me enough…
Free photo by Antoine Boissonot on Unsplash
Hiding here
so, you can ignore me,
like always,
without hurting my pride.
Image by Regös Környei on Unsplash
You picked my pieces
from the ruins,
dreaming to put me
together
on the pedestal
of perfection–
A place where I could
never belong.
Angry, you pushed me
off the pedestal
Shattering me into
Countless pieces
of heart.
Every day.
Food burnt in kitchen.
Laundry soaked and waiting long,
While tears wait to fall.
You’re always in the room,
never in the plain sight.
I see you hiding behind the peripheral vision
in the corner of my eyes,
where yesterdays mixes with todays,
where lines of the worlds fade,
and you stand with disapproving silence
at my childish ways,
ungracefulness, wrinkles, greys,…
judging anything that I do,
no matter what I do
to please.
I carry on the facade
as if I don’t see you
frowning, shaking your head,
in every moment of my life,
wake and dreams alike…
The storm is long gone
leaving behind in rubbles
my life.
I have picked up pieces
and started over,
rebuilding the haven for my heart.
.
My walls are stronger.
Doors shut tighter.
Built no windows
to keep love out.
Let the people whisper,
let the friends knock,
no one crosses the threshold.
I leave my hearth stone-cold.
.
I’m a fortress–I’m cold.
I’m safe from hope.
You see me!
I try to hide
the black shadows beneath my eyes
behind layers and layers of masks–
the poker face;
the impersonal nod;
the practical discussion
of returning belongings;
the frown;
the anger;
the layers and layers of accusations;
the pointing finger;
the clenched fists;
the huffed walking out–
the many masks I use to hide
the pain behind my eyes
that rakes my heart and questions my being,
bridled losely by my need to survive…
.
But you see me through the facade
and give that smug smile
that shows you know how well you’ve hurt me
and you’re fine with the price…
Short Stories 