Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

one last fight

 

every single strand
of my being
strains toward you
you are the magnet
i’m the metal
it’s  nothing that i choose.
your words whisper to me
come mere baby
in the dark of the night
our first kiss lingers
only to be haunted by
our last kiss, one last fight.
Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

Truth Lies

Truth lies
between us.
You mold it
you change it
you stomp it
until my composure
shatters like glass.
I didn’t say that
that isn’t what I said
you weren’t listening
I didn’t mean it that way
you’re just too sensitive
dont dare walk away
don’t put down your head.
Go ahead, close your eyes
you’re such a frigging bitch.
I do everything for you.
Reality is subjective
that I know is true.
I just don’t understand
the way you twist reality
wrapping it around my neck
when I won’t agree
shouting that I’m crazy.
Verbal abuse?
Oh no, never you.
It’s always me because
I made you so mad
so, your anger is my muse.
Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

I Found Elvis in Oklahoma

I found Elvis in Oklahoma at the mall.
He sang to me about his Heartbreak Hotel
and I thought he’d slip me the key to his room
but Elvis, he just sang to me, that’s all.
He stayed alive long enough to say,
“What do you want with a mannequin anyway?”
I replied, “I love a man who doesn’t talk much,
who has nothing mean or bossy to say.”
“Well, ma’am,” he sighed,
“You ain’t got no grilled
banana/peanut butter sandwiches
in your hand and no offense, but
I’m dead and your hair is turning gray.”
Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

Peter Pan

Peter Pan broke me.
He flew me among the stars.
He kissed me till I was dizzy.
He showed me Jupiter and Mars.
Then…he let go of my hand.
Peter Pan, you were just a little boy
I stupidly mistook for a man,
yet, here I still sit at my window.
Oh Peter, Peter Pan.

Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

Most People

Most People
Most people touch something hot
and they don’t touch it again.
Most people feel pain and then
they stay away from
the thing that caused the pain.
She was different.
I don’t know why.
Maybe because pain was so familiar,
but when something hurt her
she held on and rubbed her heart into it.
She didn’t let it go. She held on for dear life.
Most people touch something hot
and they don’t touch it again.
But, she’s not most people material.