Undesirable

The day is glorious

Bathed in angelic light

Just being sun soaked

Could make most smile

Not me, not I

I stay inside

Digging my nails in my arm

Wishing the sun would hide

So that I may venture out

Unnoticed

Inconspicuous

The undesirable know their place

Sheltered and dark

Separate from beauty

Struggling for identity

That will cover up the shame

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Sadly Important

This swirling entity of deep sadness

You want to purge it

Cough it out like lung tar

No matter how hard you cry or how tightly you ball yourself up

How raw your skin gets or how rough your throat is

It is a part of you

The sun will keep passing by warming your tired face

Knowing millions of others feel the same as you when stepping outside

It doesn’t hurt any less

It bites as hard as winter chill

You get pinned down by this sadness

Having to accept it

Having to awkwardly live alongside it

Some days it resides in a far off part of the house

You hardly know it is there

Other days it is manifested right in your face

When you stare in the mirror

It can disappear for a week or even a month

Giving you time to heal

Time to enjoy being alive

But you can always rely on its return

Like an old friend

To remind you to appreciate things more

To understand that being sad

Is a part of everyone’s life

Not to be ashamed at moments of weakness

Sometimes it will come down on you like a fierce storm

Or other times it trickles down like gentle rain

It is pointless fighting it

You can’t slam a door in its face

It is much better

Even with reluctance

To greet this swirling entity of deep sadness

Give it a place to exist

And with time

The visitations might get shorter

Teaching you new things with every stay

The Look

It’s that look.

Trying to be passive,
Like the burn of your stare,
Doesn’t set fire to her imaginations,
Like she doesn’t care.

It’s that look.

As if she’s not troubled,
At the realisation,
That she’s going to love,
Because love is devastation.

It’s that look.

Those pouted lips poised,
Like a gate rigged shut,
Giving her time think,
With her brain and not her gut.

It’s that look.

That says “back off”,
But also says “stay”,
Almost like a doll,
Yet her soulful eyes betray

It’s that look

Like hors d’oeuvres,
You absolutely adore,
A delicious treat leaving you weak,
And hungrier for more.

 

All In A Day

Think of the paramedics

As they cling to the wounded

Batting off those angry and confused

By people in uniform

Trying to save a life

Elbows deep in blood

Returning home

Showering off the days work

Letting go of the one who died on the road

Brain leaking out upon arrival

Taking a deep breath

Deciding what to cook for dinner