Poetry Challenge: 7 word story

My Heart

Pity

Bridge

Standing on a bridge, feeling it shake beneath me. Wanting to run to safety, but afraid the land I reach was already crumbling long ago. 

Afraid of the shaking.

Afraid of the crumbling. 

Can't move forward.

Can't stand still.

"Move feet, move!!!"

My knees buckle at the thought of taking one step.

Frozen. Afraid. Suspended so high, feeling gravity pulling me. The world is trying to swallow me, so why won't my legs move?

I take a step, and the bridge swings. Another step. Why does the bridge seem to grow longer?

One foot after another, I trudge forward. Yet, I freeze every few steps. 

The bridge stretches out before me, seemingly on until infinity.

Feeling like this, it's really hard not to wonder how I will ever reach solid ground. 

But on I walk...one step at a time.

JYM

Letting Go and Moving Forward

She wanted my life and she took it! He was so willing to go!!

Let it go.

He betrayed me!

Let it go.

He lied!!!

Let it go.

I follow all the rules,while he breaks every single one and still gets everything he wants!!

Let it go.

He feels and acts entitled to information whenever he pleases while he sits back responsibility free playing video games all day!

Let it go.

My son hurts and feels rejected! I try and try to give my son stability! All he does is decimate his self esteem, making him feel unwanted! Making him feel he only has a playmate and not a mentor!

Let it go.

He sees my son's agonizing disappointment as normal!

Let it go.

I do everything for my son!

Let it go.

I wake my grouchy son in the morning and struggle to get him off to school...

Move forward.

I put my thoughts down. I schedule. I chauffeur. I apply. I plan. I launder. I fold. I grocery shop. I bank. I dream...

Move forward.

I pick my son up from school. He climbs in the car, full of energy, smelling of dirt and little boy. Sometimes he's happy, sometimes he's down but he always shares his day with me. I hear and note his friends' names. I give advice. I smile at his silliness. I laugh at his jokes. I help him with his homework. I argue with him. I struggle and get tired out. 

Move forward.

I cart him to his appointments, practices and games. I help him with his gear as he laughs and starts to light up at the thought of taking the ice. I struggle to contain him while he gets into his gear. I feel like I'm dressing a monkey, ha ha! I smile and sigh when his blades hit the ice.

Move forward.

My heart is light watching him skate. My son is truly happy for an hour. 

Move forward.

I struggle to get his gear off him. He drags his feet. He takes forever...and I know why. He feels safe and happy at the rink. He forgets his family is broken. He forgets his dad moved away. He feels at peace. It's hard for me to leave too.

Move forward.

I drive my son home. Sometimes he gets a call. I try not to listen. My peace is broken. My son's mood darkens. My mood drops with my sons. Sometimes my son hangs up, feeling angry. 

Move forward.

I get him home and try to comfort him. I try to defuse his imminent temper tantrum aimed at me, because I'm here. I'm someone tangible to be angry with.

Move forward.

I make dinner never knowing if I will get the happy, silly, angry or sad  version of my son. I get all three. I'm exhausted, but proud I got a home cooked meal in him today. I do the dishes, hoping I'll get him in bed at a reasonable hour. 

Move forward.

I corral him for special playtime. We play Legos and toy cars. I somehow manage to coerce him to bathe. I make sure he brushes his teeth and takes his medicine. I argue with him until he manages to win. I allow him to watch one more YouTube episode of Stampylongnose.

Move forward.

My son's eyes slip closed and he drifts off to sleep. I look at his baby face and feel guilty I can't help him heal faster. But I know just how blessed I am to have him near, hearing him breathe and close enough to pet his hair.

Move forward.

I kiss his forehead and carry him to bed. He's getting so heavy but I cherish the fact that I can still hold him in my arms like a toddler, knowing these moments are numbered. He'll be 9 then 10 then I'll blink and he'll be graduating high school. I still wonder how anyone could so easily give up these numbered moments. Moments my son is still a little boy...but I'm learning not to care...I'm the lucky one. 

Because...

He hurt me with neglect, cruel words and violent outbursts. He broke things! He yelled and cried and threatened! He threw away everything good he had. He left the gifts that god had blessed him with, like we were old furniture. And I'm finally glad. She wanted my life. She thinks she took it! 

But, he left the best parts of him behind. 

I may backslide. It's the nature of this ugly destruction of family called divorce.

But for now...

I'm letting go and moving forward.

JYM

Case Closed

No more court rooms,

No more files!

No more forms,

And no more trials!

HOPEFULLY!!! 

Duct tape

Just me trying to be clever. Yeah I know it's not clever to accidentally make duct tape one word, but I'm embracing my imperfections. Why must we always be perfect? Or maybe I was too lazy to make a new one...the world will never know. :)

Asleep on My Shoulder

This is a moment you can't get get back, if you miss it. When your son falls asleep next to you, with his head on your shoulder, it's a moment you don't rush to end even though you need to put him to bed if you are ever going to get a good nights sleep. It's a little thing but really it's the biggest. It's a thing you can't do by phone. And it's something you can't fit into a short visit, because it's just one of many small things. Little things that happen everyday that no photo or story will ever bring back to you, these are the rewards of being a parent. And such little things are more precious than any other thing in this world.

So I guess that's why I don't understand. I just really can't comprehend someone...choosing to miss them...

Sketching Life

I was literally sketching a face from memory...possibly of my crush. Yes I literally have the heart of a fifteen year old! Or maybe it's just my coping mechanism, to dream about someone I can't have. But I digress! I was looking at the rough scratches I had laid down and the words below just floated through my head.

When you're over a certain age, it's hard not to feel like major life changes start you back at the beginning. But really, all the choices we make, are sketches. We may have to erase some people, add others, find the color that makes our lives beautiful, but the outline will always be a part of us. Someday, we will see the whole picture...

Feelings

Demotivational

Sometimes we have to laugh at ourselves...

By the Pound

Leave it Behind

Write 'til it hurts

Cry, shake, ache, want be...

Be who you are.

Love yourself through your 

self loathing.

Don't die inside, 

by letting the zombies of the world, eat at your pride.

You are valuable.

No dollar can define you,

no lover can mangle you, 

and the lack of either, 

shall not drown you.

Sleep like a sloth,

think in a mess...

Then

Get up, "head up...get to the other side," (A Friend).

Keep safe,

and leave self hate,

behind!

Throwback Thursday Writing

I wrote this in April of  1997 at Age 16

Alone...Alone

I know a place in the woods,

that cries and aches from the surrounding trees.

No one is there to care...but me,

I am the only one there.

All alone in the dark, beneath the collapsing trees.

I shall stay alone in the forest, beneath the enormous trees...

Hoping that someday someone will decide to join me.

JYM

Friendship

It will always be enough...to feel otherwise is simply selfish.

It's not pathetic to care about someone, just because they don't feel the same way about me. 

And I do. I care for real. It'll never stop and I'm glad, because...

friendship will always be enough.

Quote on egg from Malice in Wonderland

Blind

How will I ever see past him?

After seeing his flaws, why does his image only grow, blocking out the view of all other men?

It's sad really, because it's very likely he doesn't see me that way, yet my heart is not fettered. My heart dreams away, fading my vision, dimming all other men to a dull grey. He is in technicolor, so bright and vivid and blinding.

My mind should know better. I'm not a silly teenager anymore. My faith and trust have been battered and broken, so how can I accept my heart's dreams? Why does my mind not stomp out those naive hopes, and make my heart listen to reason? Why does it not remind me he ignores me, doesn't have time for me and doesn't see me that way? 

Why can't my mind clear my vision, to let anyone else in?

With all of my intelligence, my heart still steers the ship. And even if it doesn't make any sense, even if all signs point to forever friend zoned, there's still that part of my heart that believes in John Hughes' happy endings. An ending where I was the one all along...

Such a pitifully stupid heart I have...to believe such nonsense. But it does, beyond all reason, and so I may forever remain blinded by his technicolor, past which all that's left is grey.

The Regretter

My son deserves More

No longer should he feel rejection

 that eats away at his 

                            Core.

But there is no protecting him 

From Disappointment  

Even if a mother's love is

                      Potent.

Love is not a potion, not a 

Cure-all that eases all Pain

Even if the lack of it can cause

His beautiful bright eyes to

                                   Rain.

All the happiness in my heart,

If it were possible, I'd give Him

But it won't erase the disappointment That has filled his heart to the

                                          Brim.

My little boy, my gorgeous child,

Has the most beautiful Soul

There is no burden I wouldn't carry,

To make his heart again 

                                    Whole.

Not because of Karma but,

Because my son is worth Better

The one who gives him less than 

He deserves, will forever be the

                                         Regretter 

Hope in Darkness

Deep inside, where no light reflects, but can only be produced from within,

Deep inside, beyond the pain, beyond what angers, beyond the betrayal, deep within its chambers, 

Deep inside, something shimmers, something quivers, something longing to get out. 

Deep inside, feel its heat. Let it spread, let it fill the cracks, mend the breaks and sooth the aches. 

Deep inside, is such a small light, but its powers are immense. 

Deep inside It glimmers and pain begins to lessen.

Deep inside it glows, making pride grow.

Deep inside it shines and loss is put to rest.

Deep inside, beneath the pieces, beneath the struggle, a faint light is urging the thrum to continue, 

Deep inside it is insisting the mangled form to beat, even when all you can see is darkness.

Deep inside, is why you will make it, 

Deep inside, this I know for sure, because...

Deep inside a broken heart lies a bit of hope. 

JYM

Scar

It's really just a scar now. Raised and a bit jagged because I did the stitching, but just an imperfection now. A reminder of the wound and the pain that forever altered me. Soft to the touch, a little sensitive but no more blood runs from it. I had worried it would make me less beautiful. Maybe it has in the eyes of some but the right eyes will see the beauty in my scar, and those eyes will never cause another...

You're So Vain

You're so vain you probably think these [blogs] are about you, don't you, don't you? (Carly Simon)

Maybe you're right...maybe some of them are about you. But if you're reading this, maybe you should stop stalking and start talking!! 

;)

For all those with unrequited crushes out there!! 

JYM