Author: women who think too much
A Codependent Fairy Tale
She changed after he died and God knows, she was strange enough before his death, but then he died and she melted into nothing, shuffling down the hallways clothed in someone else’s skin and we all realized that we were losing her and there was nothing to be done because we could see that her soul had fled with him into the death tunnel, even as her lungs continued to breathe and her blood continued to pump, even as she slept, as she walked, as she drew breath; yes, this woman in our mother’s body was now a stranger and even though we had all suspected that she still loved him as much as she hated him, we really didn’t know and we couldn’t have imagined the depth or the width of her self-imposed restraint and we never saw the chains that she had wrapped around her feelings, no, not…
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Notes from Mom
Notes from Mom, colors changed by time, but the love never fades. I love you Mom.
She used to…
She used to climb apple trees
with fearless abandon
never worried how she’d get down.
She used to run in fields of grass
without a care in the world.
She used to hide in the flowers
inhaling the nectar
never fearing a sting.
I’d like to invite that girl
to come out to play.
I’d like to reclaim her
travel the path back
to that courageous girl
she who once lived free.
I Must Go On
I must go on
Wake up
Drink coffee
Smoke a cigarette
Say words
Take a shower
Curl my hair
Do the dishes
Mop the floors
Fold the laundry
Weed the garden
Remember to breathe
Remember to eat
Fake a smile
Crush the memories
I must go on
Without you
Right?
2015
She Was
She Was
The grief encompassed her soul until the elements of her former self were nothing.
Nothing.
Destiny squeezed her guts until she splattered all over the floor.
She was, she was, but now she isn’t, not anymore.
Wait.
Amidst the wreckage of her shattered, twisted dreams perchance a gem remains?
A shred of what was, a stair to climb on, a hand to reach beyond her agony,
clutching what still could be?
Carefully, small slivers extracted of what value they weren’t sure
held up to the light by white coats who thought they knew the cure,
the cure for secrets that had hammered her to her knees
events which paralyzed the frightened child she was before.
Men and women who only added their putrid slime to the illness
then when her hour was up they shoved her through the door.
That of course was just good business, nothing’s free,
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The Ants and The Housewife
The ants were watching the housewife. Zoe, their Queen was dead. Boric acid and sugar. They had delivered it to their Queen in all innocence. Princess Zia was leading them, because without a leader they were helpless, but she was so young. She was trying to take her mother’s place but she hadn’t even begun training for her own nest when her mother died from the tainted sugar.
The ants waited, silent, deadly, hungry, watching the housewife, hoping she would release the grains of white sugar from the container that they couldn’t breach, the big white plastic gallon with the ant proof, tight blue cover. Then they could eat and regain their strength before the battle.
Oh yes, there would be a battle today.
They watched as she drank her coffee and started to pull down items from the food closet. They hated her. She had killed so many of…
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Dream Weaver 2
Choices
She started to think about what she wanted to experience before she died and it went like this…she wanted to be made love to like he had never seen her before and she was the most precious thing in the world that he could ever touch or possess.
She wanted him to say her smile made his day and lit up his world.
She wanted him to hold her as he was sleeping, wrapped all around her and never letting go all night.
She wanted him to hold her as he was sleeping, wrapped all around her and never letting go all night.
She wanted to dance around the bedroom with him at midnight. Dancing slow, to a country love song, held so tight she could barely breathe, dancing with the man she loved as he whispered, “I am so sorry, I didn’t know how much I loved you,” in her ear.
She wanted to be loved like that once more before she died.
Why
Now that you’re 1200 miles away
everything I think about
when I picture you and me
none of it is real, it’s just a fading fantasy.
When I miss your arms around me
I’m not thinking about the fights
when I miss your kisses and I miss your smile
I’m not thinking about all the lonely nights.
I’m not thinking about when you laid beside me
in this very same bed, and I cried myself to sleep
and wished that I was dead.
I’m thinking about the good times
the times you held my hand,
the rare times when it all felt so right.
I’m dancing with you under the stars
a story living only inside my head.
Why does distance make the love
feel sweeter than it ever tasted?
Why does lonely recolor the pictures?
Why does absence rewrite the memories
hidden under this very same bed?
Let Me Go Easy
Please love, let me go easy
I’m already broken.
Already said all the mean words
A to Z, they’ve all been spoken.
No need to repeat
no need to fight.
I’m down for the count
I admit I’ve been beat.
Open your hands
with memories of love
and just let me go.
I’d stay if I could love you
or if you could love me
just as we are.
But, we can’t and we both know.
So, please open the door and
with gentleness, let me go.
I can’t do the anger and I can’t do the pain
I can’t stand still while we throw curses
slapping each other’s face with blame.
I can’t watch us die
as we stomp on each other’s heart.
Please love, let me go easy
I’m already broken.
Sometimes It’s Okay
She said, sometimes
it’s okay to just be okay.
She feels His strength
from her head to her toes.
He removes her shackles
and she drops her woes.
Minus the heavy chains
the wind kisses her hair.
Hope is unrestrained
deep breaths of cool air.
She said, sometimes
it’s okay to just be okay.
Love isn’t and love doesn’t
I’m not sure what love is.
I tried to write what I knew about love and I didn’t come up with a very long list.
So, I’m going to tell you what I do know.
I know what love isn’t and what love doesn’t.
Love is not the flush you get from your head to your toes when you meet someone who sparks your pheromones. Walk away or get burned. That’s lust.
Love is not the tingle you get between your legs when you see Sam Elliott in white briefs. Again, lust.
Love is not orgasm after orgasm. You could get that from a stranger who triggered your pheromones. Lust, again.
Love doesn’t manipulate, control and lie.
Love doesn’t run away emotionally and physically when times are hard.
Love doesn’t throw family or friends away if they screw up.
Love doesn’t hold you down by convincing you that you can’t do anything…
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You Don’t Let Me
You let me cook
You let me clean
I wash our clothes
I sweep up my dreams.
You let me shop
You let me sew
I have it all
Computers, books and clothes.
You don’t let me
See how you feel
You don’t let me near
Any part of you that’s real.
You don’t let me
Close in our
King size bed
I rebel, but only inside my head.
You don’t let me
Love you
I don’t know why
I know one day, I won’t even try.
5-8-13
Father God
I collapsed on my bed the other night
After a long and difficult day.
I cried out to my heavenly Father
Why does it have to hurt this way?
My children rebel, scream and fight
As I try to lead the way.
As I sat there, worn and weary
Suddenly, I saw my Father’s pain
For I am his little child
And often slow to obey.
I thought of all the times
I was a rebellious child.
I ran away from you, my Father
Tried to do it my own way.
I felt your burden and then I knew
How small a cross I bear,
I only have three children, Lord
While your’s are everywhere.
January 29, 1987
Goodbye For Now Ms. Skeeter (Kita) March 26
There is never enough time to give all the love you have to anyone. There is never enough time.
I have loved this little dog with all my heart since the day we got her from the shelter in Orlando.
But somehow, it doesn’t feel like enough.
I want to give her more love before she goes, but we’re out of time.
There is never enough time.
Maybe that’s why God gave us dogs, so we could practice grieving the loss of what we love so much, so that when we lose people, we have already had a glimpse of what it’s going to feel like.
We already know what a broken heart is, before we are knocked out of our orbit by losing a person we love.
That’s the only reason I can think of why dogs have a short life, why they usually go before us.
I know God has an incredible plan and that we only see the knots on the back side of the tapestry.
I trust him with all my heart, but I wish letting go didn’t hurt so much.
I love this little girl beyond measure, and that’s why she’s crossing the rainbow bridge today, because I don’t want her to suffer anymore.
She has made me laugh, she has made me cry, she has made me want to pull my hair out. She has bit me when I tried to get my shoes, she has bit me when I tried to wipe her butt or Lord help me, when I tried to cut her toenails.
In the first three years, we went through three rug shampooers before we got her colitis under control and then had to replace all our rugs. We got her healthy, up to eight pounds and we just kept loving her. We saved her and she saved us.
I don’t regret one minute of her life.
She has kissed me good morning every day since the day we adopted her. She looks in my eyes and she sees my soul and I see her’s too.
She’s empathetic, she’s compassionate, and she’s a crazy hellion on four, little feet.
She’s Ms. Skeeter, a one of a kind and she’s my baby.
She was two years old when we adopted her. Just three pounds of wild, untrained energy.
People used to ask me what is that? Is that a dog? Some even thought she was a monkey.
I used to walk her and she’d run me around the park that we lived in, faster than I could go.
People used to laugh as we went by and ask, who’s walking who?
She was like a mosquito, buzzing around her brother, Puppy, and that’s how she got her name.
She’s fourteen now and for the last six months, diabetes has taken its toll.
We’ve had six months of extra time, but that time is up and as long as it’s in my power, I won’t let her suffer anymore.
Mom, I know you don’t really enjoy dogs, but if you could take care of her for me until I get there, I’d be very grateful.
Help her to find her brother, Puppy, and let her run free. She won’t be any trouble at all, unless you take off your shoes and try to pick them up, good luck with that.
Goodbye, Ms. Skeeter, just for now. Run free, and thank you for all the kisses.
Thank you to Dr. Robards and the staff at Eastside Animal Hospital for giving us the last six months and for their extremely compassionate care today.
Thank you to my daughter for taking Kita’s Last Ride with me. 💔💔💔
Also, thank you to my husband for spending thousands on Kita and on every dog we rescued.💔💔💔
Sisters…
Sisters…
Cracks
Standing on ice
watching the cracks
spread beneath her feet.
Swan dancing on ice
slipping and sliding.
A million more
cracks appear.
She keeps moving
until she stands in the
center of the frozen lake.
Fractured ice under her feet
no matter which step
she chooses to take.
She walks carefully.
She walks slow.
It’s so lonely.
It’s so cold.
Standing on ice…
watching the cracks
spread beneath her feet.
Tangles
For Jodie Lynne
Tangled in bonds forged by
Genetic matter blended
Knitted in the womb
Knots that cannot be untied
Ropes that were braided
On our creator’s loom
Lines that are unclear
Boundaries do not exist
Pain ultimately is shared
Young woman becomes
Woman with child
Child turned teen mother
Grandmother with babies
In her arms once more
Two women now
On opposite sides of
An open door
Her little girl only exists
In the mother’s mind
Bound by knotted love
Tangled in her
Daughter’s addictions
Living her own lies
The truth
Worse than fiction
Hearts ripped apart
By love that destroys
Always with the
Best intention.
The mother steps back
From the tornado
Of wrath and pain
Gut wrenching past
Today can’t restrain
Accused of coldness
As she slams the door
While in reality
She is burning with
Her daughter’s pain
Trying to
Avoid the disaster
Detangle shredded ties
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Beach Sunrise
The Cliff’s Edge
She walks
Along the cliff’s edge
Looking down.
Behind her
A ravine of lies,
And the man
She loves.
Shattered dreams
Are all she wears,
They are her only cover
From the icy rain.
He walks
Behind her,
Listening with her to
The waves, crashing below.
The thunder booms!
The lightning strikes!
The ground quakes!
She is afraid.
How could she dare to love?
He waits.
He cannot save her
His love sent her to the edge,
He cannot touch her
Or she will jump,
So he stays behind her.
She weighs the choices
While she plays with her life,
Balance a thing of the past
She walks along the cliff’s edge.
1989
Darkness
darkness
fits me
like a glove
vast waves of pain
and sorrow
searching, aching
for a sign
from up above
searching
for a reason
to face tomorrow
true disciple
straying from
the flock
no reason
to wake up
damn that
alarm clock.
1990
The Last Box
I didn’t realize that the last box would be the heaviest
not until I stumbled with it down what is now your drive.
Tears flowing unchecked were blocking my common sense.
Crying, remembering when our desire was alive.
Shoved the box in the van, slammed my door closed
then I checked the garage for things forgotten.
Taped to your toolbox, I saw your favorite picture of me
the one you promoted from your wallet
to the dashboard of your race car, a Vega, 1973.
My image inspired you as you raced
or so you used to say.
I guess the week you yanked me from the car
was the week you drove your Vega to first place.
The house looks deserted, the grounds unkempt and unloved.
Summer heat has burned the lilac bush and turned my roses brown.
Flowers struggle among the weeds, most have died, died to set me free.
The angel trumpets and morning glories alone proclaim
that once I touched the earth around your home with love.
I bend over to rescue the flowers setting dead in plastic pots,
and then I set them back down.
I can’t save what’s been killed with neglect, I know. I know. I’ve tried.
I knew what would happen when I stopped the watering that kept them alive.
I carried out the last box, tonight as the sun was going down
it was so much heavier than the first and
the weight really caught me by surprise.
I patted the morning glories goodbye, watered them with tears.
I climbed into my van, remembering your words the day you bought it.
As you handed me the keys, you softly said,
“There, now you can take all your stuff the next time that you decide to leave.”
I shifted into reverse, held down the brake and laid my head on the steering wheel to cry.
Crying because; still, I love you, crying for all that we lost.
The last box was the heaviest, so much heavier than the first
how could I have known that the last box
would weigh me down the worst?
1999
Fly Away
He flung the cage door open and shouted at the bird, fly away…
She shivered, and she shook and she fluttered her wings
when nothing happened she just called it a day.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll be free, is what she sings.
He covers the cage for the night with a smirk on his face,
Never even bothers to close the cage door.
He knows she will stay in place because he clipped her wings,
of that he is sure.
Slips of Paper
Thousands of slips
of paper
fall to the floor.
They’re just random
thoughts
she was thinking,
and they don’t mean
anything anymore.
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
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