Post by stupidxgirl on Mar 26, 2006 0:58:52 GMT -6
a/n: Still, the writers block is on me! LoL But, this is for my aunt who recently, after 10 years of his bullshit, decided to divorce her husband. She's a great supporter of my work and asked me to write a poem that stated her feelings. She didn't want anything cruel, but she didn't want anything that would lead people to believe she regretted leaving him. She's very scared right now, so I tried my best to put that vulnerability in here. But it's hard to write because I can relate and I think I ended up putting more of my feelings in it then her's, but oh well 
I wanted a place to hide
and digging myself into your
coal-chamber-heart just
wasn't an option this time
And I wanted to better myself
again and again
But where is my way out of this?
and when will I wake up
from your hands over my eyes,
and these wide eyed fears
and saying love
without love
and without safety
in our numbers.
And what's the point of
holding out,
holding on,
[holding]
pride.
I want to honestly know
Why this time
would I keep believing in you
when all signs pointed
out the door and down
the street to the pillow
you laid your head on
last night and the night before
and the month before-
And god knows when else.
When we played make believe
and pretended to smile
when the people would stare
at the lipstick on your collar,
did you fail to notice
we all knew?
I never blamed myself,
But I'm still in love
with the fact that you
can hold me when you
smelled like her and have
no honest regrets.
Yes I'm so in love with
the ripping of promises
and the disregard of
feelings spread over
ribbons with splitting edges
and shiny knives to the back.
And I just want
my place to hide.
And I was wondering
if you could still offer
me that?
I wanted a place to hide
and digging myself into your
coal-chamber-heart just
wasn't an option this time
And I wanted to better myself
again and again
But where is my way out of this?
and when will I wake up
from your hands over my eyes,
and these wide eyed fears
and saying love
without love
and without safety
in our numbers.
And what's the point of
holding out,
holding on,
[holding]
pride.
I want to honestly know
Why this time
would I keep believing in you
when all signs pointed
out the door and down
the street to the pillow
you laid your head on
last night and the night before
and the month before-
And god knows when else.
When we played make believe
and pretended to smile
when the people would stare
at the lipstick on your collar,
did you fail to notice
we all knew?
I never blamed myself,
But I'm still in love
with the fact that you
can hold me when you
smelled like her and have
no honest regrets.
Yes I'm so in love with
the ripping of promises
and the disregard of
feelings spread over
ribbons with splitting edges
and shiny knives to the back.
And I just want
my place to hide.
And I was wondering
if you could still offer
me that?
