A Dozen Old Sads

Have you ever noticed

when something triggers your sad

it seems to pull back the layers

of all the sads you buried

and a dozen old sads rise up in defiance

shouting out, What about me?

I’m still here. Look at me.

You buried me, you pushed me down,

but I’m still aching, what about me?

Shut up old sads.

You don’t belong here, not today.

I have enough to be sad about

in this present moment and

I don’t need a dozen selfish

old sads rising up in rebellion.

Go back to sleep old sads, hush.

You’ve already had your day.

My Kryptonite

I could give up cigarettes, coffee, sugar,

chocolate and probably even salt.

I could never let go of your memory

it’s locked securely in a hidden vault.

Yet, longings escape

like pink whispers

memories haunt me

old scars burn as

your caress lingers

lips tender on my skin

kissing the curve of my face

as you slow dance me

until you win my heart

just to walk away.

A fantasy fulfilled, too hot to hold

it dropped from my burnt fingers.

The way you made me feel, my kryptonite.

The dance ended, but the music lingers.

Wildflowers

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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The breeze in my face is sweet
and it tastes like the ocean in my lungs
although it’s not.
Then again, it really is because
that’s what it tastes like to me.
Freedom is a wildflower growing
where ever the wind blows her seeds,
in a garden or in an empty field.
Freedom tastes like the ocean
and looks like wildflowers
and freedom…she dances
with the confidence of seventeen.

Jeanne Marie, 2019

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She’s Still Alive

I looked in the mirror this morning

and the woman who once loved you

looked back at me.

I thought she died.

I tried to kill her literally, emotionally

and in every way possible because

I don’t want love that hurts.

I looked in the mirror this morning

and the woman who once loved you

looked back at me.

She’s still alive.

Full Moon Rises

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

Soul wanders
through the darkness
searching for your light.
It floats blind and lost
searching behind
the  stars each night.
Heat remembered
frustrates and
fuels the fire.
Full moon rises
sparking rebellion,
tears and desire.
I want! I want!
soul screams out
to the empty night.
Its over. It’s over.
Must be accepted
by each daylight.

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Yes, I Do

I spent half my life making rules and asking people to follow them, disappointed when they didn’t.
I spent half my life cleaning when I could have played with my children, but, I didn’t.
I let time slip away, let people drift out of my life, moments I should have treasured but, I didn’t.
I let problems weigh me down, things that  didn’t even matter the next day.
But, I thought they did.
Now, I treasure every moment, every hug, every butterfly and flower.
Yes, I do.

Doing Time…

This was six years ago and my daughter has been sober and free for over four years. Praise God. Looking back from then to now is a thrill and a chill. Amen.

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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I publish tons of personal stuff on my blog, but I wasn’t going to write about my thirty-nine year-old daughter going to prison, not because I’m ashamed of her, but because the hurt is so enormous.
I have made mistakes. Some that will haunt me until the day I die. Everyone makes mistakes. We all pay for our mistakes too, whether it’s through Karma, prison, divorce, broken hearts, family members who never speak to us again or whatever. You don’t have to wait for an official Judgment Day.
I believe that every day on Earth is Karma’s Judgment Day.
My heart has been sliced, diced and pureed, but much of it I can blame on myself and my bad decisions, decisions made from fear and insecurity.
And just when I think that I have bottomed out on heartbreaks, my middle child, who has also made bad choices, gets herself in enough…

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Sometimes, I’m a Flower

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Sometimes, when I’m in my garden, I’m a flower.
I spread my petals to soak up the sun.
When I walk among the brilliant colors
I feel like a bird set free to soar.

Imagine…

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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Imagine a world
where the flowers are blue
the sky is Cinderella pink
and your heart is brand new.
Heart never been broken
never kicked to the ground
a home built on rainbows…
awesome flowers surround.
Tears are never shed and
willow trees do not weep
when you close your eyes…
your soul He does keep.
Imagine a world
minus cursing and screams
imagine a world
where kindness beats mean.
Rose colored angels
waltz through your dreams
while dainty butterflies dance
on clouds of whipped cream.
Imagine…

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Words & Pictures: Jeanne Marie, 2014

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Goodbye For Now Ms. Skeeter (Kita) March 26

It’s been a little over a year, and the very thought of this little girl can still make me cry…

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie


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…

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What You Love

 

What you love the most can kill you as you hold it close.
Danger never made itself known as she buried her face in the lilacs,
inhaling the sweet, sugary scent of the velvety, purple blossoms.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the ambrosia as she gently held the delicate bunches in her hands, her favorite perfume filling her senses with pleasure.
Overwhelmed with passion, she didn’t feel the spider that crawled up her neck.
As it bit into the tender flesh under her windblown hair, she was so lost in the moment, lost in the lilacs, she didn’t even feel the deadly bite.
He injected his poisonous venom into her soft flesh as she caressed the lilacs.
What you love the most can kill you as you hold it close.

Colors

 

 

She hates colors that aren’t colors
colors that are shades of something
that used to be brilliant.
She learned to hide her colors gradually
through the years and as she let him
water her down with his words,
she gently faded into a no color version
a salamander who changed her colors to hide.
She let him turn her into a shade of something
that used to be brilliant.

One More Time, Again

Let’s not fight when the sun goes down and the shades are drawn.
Wouldn’t you rather call back the tender fury, the passion that we once wore?
Time was on our side and ever so trusting I gave me to you
only to be lost, a forlorn girl standing on the edge of nevermore.
Drew back the covers, flesh ablaze, unashamed, nothing to hide,
fell in love, lost my head, I was so sure.
Recreate the euphoria of that first night, devouring each other
between the worn cotton sheets on my antique bed.
Use your fingertips to chase away the years of struggling
the hurt and the anger that screams wild as savage beasts inside our heads.
Play make-believe, pretend that it’s yesterday
and the bitter deeds did not destroy the tenderness instead.
Pursue me like there’s no tomorrow because I can not see beyond today
then, when tomorrow comes…
I promise to set you free, stand on my own two feet, find my own way.
Hands could caress, bodies could recreate, satisfy this insane yearning
as you travel back with me, waltz me back through past’s gate.
Touch my soul once more with longing and desire, force the winds of change
to stand stationary while you re-ignite my skin’s desire.
What would I give to travel back and never have been betrayed?
I scarce remember when there were no walls
and I did not know how to be afraid.
Perhaps tonight you could help me to forget to remember if I promise that
I won’t run away when the dawn comes, I won’t run away. No…not yet.
We could try, one more time, again. What could we lose, what could we win?
Cradle me in your arms and recapture me with reckless hunger,
pretend thirty years have not transpired.
It would be so easy because fingertips have no memories and
they don’t know how to hate, they will pursue passion’s flagrant fire
unlike a broken heart which hesitates.
No movement forward from here so we could journey back to then
before the illusions were shattered and we could try, one more time, again.
One more time again, as if you read my mind.
Still, the heat that rises in my loins concedes to grief, collapses beneath regret
too wise to be enchanted, too stupid to forget.
Good-bye. No, wait…not yet. Maybe we could try…one more time, again.

Sunflower On The Road

Took a sunflower on the road
I couldn’t just leave her behind.
Grew her from a tiny seed
Watched her climb and grow
Always reaching for the sky.
She made it past eight feet
And I couldn’t say goodbye.
She’ll finish out her life
In cool, clean water
A burst of sunshine
In my tiny RV and
When her time is done
I’ll save her seeds for
My next garden
So she will always be.

Loved Me Young

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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I took your love and absorbed it into my skin
then when you left, I was lost…so
I leaned on memories and I was OK again.
I’m going to save your love till the day I die
When I miss you, I’ll take a little out
dust myself and remember not to cry.
A little pink dust coming straight from my heart
the love that you gave will always be a part.
Your caresses all over my skin will forever shine
you can’t take back those moments, they are mine.
Like icy snowflakes that melt
when they hit my tongue,
I’ll hold on to the dance that was us
remembering when you loved me young.
Jeanne Marie, 2016

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Old Age

He came to her windowsill
Come play! Come fly!
She tiptoed to the edge
Brave, with one jump
Into his arms she dived.
Peter, I am old.
It doesn’t matter
He whispered,
You’re the only woman
I’ll ever hold.
Straight on till morning,
And then she woke.
Peter was her past
Old age, nature’s joke.

The Lost Boy

 

 

The Lost Boy was on her window sill
Begging her to fly just one more night.
Wendy, I don’t care that you are older
I just want to fly you to the stars tonight.
We can pretend that we are the same age
I’ll believe if you will, he said with a smile.
It’s our story, we can write a new page
Straight from once upon yesterday’s time.
Let’s fly through the clouds to the stars
Just for tonight, a quick little flight.
Don’t say no, just take my hand
I’ll have you home by morning’s light.
But Peter, she whispered, with a sigh
I’m a great-grandmother now.
I can’t fly anymore, Tink’s out of dust
Plus, I don’t even remember how.
I’m tired of your shenanigans, Lost Boy
And I have nothing else to say.
Oh, except I’ll always love you Peter…
Goodbye, now please, fly away.
Wendy, I won’t be back
This is your last chance.
She kissed his cheek and she closed the window
Declining the thrill of a last Lost Boy dance.

 

 

 

 

The Princess

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

The Princess was sitting in her castle and she swore no man would she let woo.

She turned them all away as she said, no, not you, not you, not you, to myself I will be true.

She danced with her butterflies, she twirled in her flower gardens like when she was two.

She whispered to her flowers, confessing, I love you and you and you.

So happy was this woman that she vowed never to wed and then a Knight in dazzling armor appeared at the castle gates, the sun shining on his head.

She was blinded by his beauty, aura like spun gold and this one Knight she invited to her bed, visions of together growing old.

Prince Charming was his name and wow, that man tickled her fancy with his soft kiss and even if he just walked by, she would stumble and a step she would miss.

Well…

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I Cry Because

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

I cry, not because you’re gone, no
it’s that you left me so many years ago.
I’ve realized it was a lie, I’ve been sleeping with
and snuggling against the enemy’s back
dancing with demons in my bed
holding my breath to give you air
for thirty years too long.
I cry because
I refuse to love you anymore and
love’s removal leaves a gaping wound.
You pulled me close, then
you pushed me away so hard
you bruised my tender soul.
Over and over and said it was my fault
while I bloodied myself in battles
you had already won.
I cry because your love
was just an illusion, a reward
that I could never earn.
I cry because
I lost a love I never had at all.

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She used to…

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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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.

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I Still Want Him

 

I still want him.
I want the first night when we slept in each other’s arms,
legs wrapped around each other.
I want the first kiss, the slow dances, the first time.
I want it all.
I want the weeks before we made love, the anticipation.
I want his soft words and his rough hands.
I want to feel his wrists on mine, holding my arms down, as he makes love to me through my clothes.
I want his cocky smile that promises me that we will always feel this rawness, this intensity, even though it’s a lie.
I want to sit on his lap while he rocks us to sleep.
I want to see me through his eyes again, to feel young and sexy and wild.
I want his cutoff tee shirts thrown on my bed, his dirty work boots by my door.
I still want him.

Lessons To Learn, Miles To Run

I go through my days and nights, making mistake after mistake, wondering what am I doing wrong and how I can change it, how can I do it right?
I want to know, why I am here and what I am supposed to be learning?
What are these challenges I’m facing supposed to be teaching me?
I have an icky feeling that I’ve been here before.
I feel that I have done this before, and this is the last chance to get it right.
I don’t know if I believe in reincarnation, but obviously something in my subconscious does.
Why else would I feel that this is my last go-round?
I took a silly test that was supposed to tell me how old my soul is, and the answer said mine was 1,016 years old.
I believe it.
Because that’s how weary I am of my challenges and trying to figure out the right road, the correct path, whatever you want to call it.
The worst thing is that I can go from one extreme to another while making a choice or decision and then stay stuck smack in the middle of both choices. Seriously.
Often, I’m running around trying to undo damage from an earlier error. I also make no choice and that is of course, a choice. It can also require cleanup.
Anyway, today I was thinking about my challenges and the way I wrestle with them at times.
Mostly, I’ve avoided them or run away, but lately I have been trying to fight them and hit them head on.
Not always a good method with a large margin for error.
I think the Ghost of Error is what stops me in my tracks.
I want to make the right choice and my instincts tell me the right choice, but I don’t always trust myself;  although, sometimes a glimmer of confidence dances through my head.
Getting back to the original thought. What am I here for and what did I not learn all the other times?
I need to know, what are the challenges I have not licked?
The words love and loyalty flash card me.
Two big ones, huh?
And I don’t want to come back to learn it again and again.
I’m soul tired…and the subconscious says not just from this life, but from many others before.
To love without conditions…to give loyalty under all pressures.
To the people who love me and to the causes my heart believes in, not to those who demand my love and loyalty, but to those whom it rightfully belongs.
To not fear errors, but to embrace and to learn from each disaster.
To be loyal to myself and to let the turds fall where they may.
To risk everything because of something I believe in whether I’m right or wrong, to be true to myself, to stand behind myself when I create a plan and to say, “Go for it!” instead of, “Oh my, I’m scared to make decisions.”
I want to throw away the opinions that trap me and cripple me. Throw them to the wind. I want to do what I believe is right even when I can’t be sure I’m right. I have been told that I am wrong for so many years that I have lost trust in myself.
Now, I need to overcome the years of doubt and to learn to trust me and to pay my own price if I am wrong.
To me…that is the loyalty that I am lacking. The ability to trust myself and my loyalty to me is missing.
I really don’t want to keep coming back just to repeat my mistakes.
Lessons to learn, miles to run.