Posted in Notes FROM Women Who Think too Much

Such a perfect couple…

Such a perfect couple, people always say…
They don’t know that for so many years we have said the same sentences.
“Don’t talk to me that way.”
“I talk to you that way because you made me so mad.”
“Well, that doesn’t give you the right to talk to me that way.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I believe we have said just that paragraph over five thousand times.
Exactly like that, except now and then a f’n works its way through.
So, now it’s decision time.
Because I keep repeating the same sentences too.
How do I change the script?
Our responses are so automatic.
Can you actually change within a destructive relationship or do you have to leave it?
I learned a long time ago, that you alone are responsible for what you accept from other people. I have accepted verbal abuse.
I am also responsible for how I respond to other people. I’ve become angry enough to start screaming right back at you. I don’t want to be that woman.
I don’t know how to be near you without being angry anymore and that scares me.
Can I change? Can you change?
I guess we would have if we could have.
Such a perfect couple people always say…

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

Our Love Is Only

Our love is only valuable when we’re apart.
It becomes so intensely sad, wild and mystical that
I can almost forget where we were when you left.
When we’re together it’s no, I didn’t, yes, you did.
Crying and fighting and tears and yelling.
Boundaries that should never have been crossed.
Now it’s  two-thirty a.m.
and sleeping is what I should be doing
but your nice words from tonight
are swirling in my head, lingering
as I ache for your warmth in my bed.
Talking to you is so hard and so painful
as your voice awakens my anger
that we are doing this once more
and I have to live without you
when that wasn’t what I wanted.
Your current kindness stirs my grief
into a big old mess of confusion and regret.
The train is blowing through town
the whistle long, drawn out and melancholy
just like when you were here.
Now it’s three-thirty and sleep is just a thought.
I want what we didn’t have
I want what I thought we had
even as there’s no way back
to what I thought we had
for the first few years because
it was something that didn’t exist.
It’s five a.m. and as soon
as I shut my eyes the tears fall.
That’s why I don’t shut them.
Sitting alone in the house
that you pay for, the house
that is everything that I didn’t want,
but it didn’t matter what I wanted.
Watching the sun come up
behind the trees
as the tears go down.
Our love is only valuable when we’re apart.
Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

I Cry Because

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

What’s Left

If we could have
we would have
but we couldn’t
and this is what’s left…
Empty arms, your clothes
folded on the bureau
two extra pillows
that I tuck around me
so I can fall asleep
left over love
your favorite glass
wedding photos
your old tee-shirt
guitars in the cellar
pictures of us kissing
between each fight and
two lonely Chihuahuas
confused, waiting
to hear your truck
pull in the drive.
Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

The Princess

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, we all know about no such thing as happy endings and soon the Princess gave up her other loves, like her writing.

She was busy twisting and turning and bending to keep the Prince happy, looking in her mirror-mirror and often sitting there silently for hours.

The Prince started kissing her less and less often and his voice for her…he no longer softened.

Many nights she cried herself to sleep, under so many full moons…she would weep and weep and weep.

Many moons later, she came to her senses, had the guards toss the Prince out and around her old gardens she built stronger fences.

This is a true story and you know it’s true, because I was the Princess and you, you were the Knight I gave my heart too.

Silly Princess, Stupid Boy, hard lessons, me and you.