Pragmatic Romantic

For them, it comes easy or not at all
They simply stumble, then fall
Fall into it all, so effortlessly
Love…luck…life; they walk along so blissfully
Complacent with their entire existence
It leaves us, almost…envious
For us, it better come perpetually perplexed
Otherwise, we show a complete lack of interest
We can’t help but inquire and wonder
Pick apart every explanation and blunder
I’m not so sure sometimes, if people like you and I
Are cursed or blessed by what lies within our minds
This insatiable appetite causes us to grow restless
Jumping in, head first, into anything that hints at this so-called bliss
But alas, we can only turn a blind eye in short stints
Until we question every single thing and the authenticity of it
I’m not even sure you are here, where I am
Maybe it’s just my head, conjuring up something meaningful again

"My love has concrete feet..."

Things like this. This is why my heart is heavy. I need to unload a few pounds now, so I can sleep.
Sometimes I think….I must sound so self righteous to others. So full of conceit, when I explain what I refer to as, “my curse”. The Fixer. The stepping stone. The scapegoat. However many other names, I’ve referred to myself as. It cannot be coincidence, that the two most important relationships of my life, were with men that bare so much in common. They are not the only ones to hold on and say these kinds of things, but they’ve certainly held on the longest.

It’s maddening….when you give someone everything you have and they simply try to take more….rather than trying to give you a part of themselves. I was very much in love on both occasions. What I feel will never be fully understood, is this:

Venomous acts of cruelty, spawned from insecurity, selfishness and jealousy…..WILL eventually eat away at a person. Never sated…it will eat right through to the decaying core. How can a person possibly love anyone else, when they don’t even love themselves anymore. A fine line between love and hate, right? Sort of…yes. It’s not, necessarily, that I ever actually fell out of love. So much as it was, becoming disenchanted with “love”. At the deepest level, every bit of love remained. The day to day brought about the superficial, the resentment, the anger, the fear and so on. Pride, (bless it’s sinful little heart), led to the disdain of being shamed. Know thyself. Know thy value. Bless my overly analytical mind, as well.

By the end of each of these relationships, I felt small. I felt unloved, undesirable and unworthy of anything more. I was saved by youth and distance the first time around. I was saved by experience, the second. I swore I’d never do it again after the first. Pesky wolves in sheep’s clothing. Silly lovesick little girl with the rose colored glasses. She’ll learn eventually. One day she’ll learn to see the fangs behind the smile. Minimally, approach with caution. Stay far enough away, long enough, to gain a headstart, when the smile slips.

I’m not even angry anymore. I’m just sad and perplexed. I should have been able to avoid it the second time around. When I finally realized the similarities….I tried so hard to explain how it would go down. I tried everything to prevent history from repeating itself. I told that wolf the entire fable….every last detail….about the one before him. I told him what I learned about myself. I told him what I learned about wolves. I told him I was unhappy. I even told him I was never going off path for flowers, ever again. It didn’t register. It didn’t click. It was viewed as some kind of scheme.
Little Red Riding Hood was never the liar. She never cried, “Wolf!” She was simply too naïve to escape her impending death in one version and too helpless to save herself in another.

The point is this….I want my knight in armor. Not shining. Dull, old, beat up armor. Shining armor is far too suspicious. There’s no going back to someone that’s been proven a wolf. I need that modern day prince. The one that knows and appreciates what he has, BEFORE it’s gone.

….and for him… I will make him feel like a king everyday. I sure as hell try anyway…..

Crossing Continuums

Every damn time
I feel it
Wish I could stop it.
My heart flying…
Fleeing…
Breaking out…
Shattering the ribs.
On the brink
Leaving a sick
Sinking…
Hollow feeling…
In the gut.


Every damn word
I see it
Wish I could block it.
My mind racing…
Fearing…
Falling…
Invading the ventricles.
In a daze
Leaving a sense
Of  seclusion…
Confusion…
And envy…
In the core.


An ill craving…
Feed the fiend
All the same
In different strides.
The parody…
I'm the junkie
I do it to myself
All the time.