Time for a Haiku,

which isn't anything new,

go low, flow ... oh no!

Do you dare, I ask,

add t to bring on this task,

it awaits you all!

A once smartly manicured lawn,

holding headstones new,

headstones faded,

... headstones.

They are the final telling:

a name,

a birth,

a death.

The final journey,

the last home,

no more anticipation,

no more worries.

In this squared circle,

seventy-five stones;

stones that if thought upon,

could tell us a history.

Mother, father,

grandparents,

wife, husband,

son and daughter.

Countless others,

who count in someone's eyes,

someone's heart,

someone's memory.

All, in that final sweet repose.

The greatest journey taken,

the greatest journey ended.

... the last true place of peace.

Whispering a few words, I walk away.

So much love among these tombstones.

My elder daughter

Always marched to her own beat

She is my hero

Daughter number two

A compassionate empath

Exuding goodwill

Second ex-husband

Truly, an abusive jerk

Compelled me to reveal strength

And then there’s myself

Varied personalities

Taught me how to cope

Uniqueness, harmony, survival, strife,

Every one of them have transformed my life.

#poetry #haiku #haikusonnet #challenge #lifechanging

I thought it was me and you. I really did. I built my life around us. Our forever. I chose you again and again. Over everything: colleges, vacations- over my own happiness.

You were my happiness.

I couldn’t see it, couldn’t see what was staring me right in the face. I couldn’t see how you avoided my eyes and changed the subject when I talked about our future. I couldn’t see how you were always on your phone, but you never texted me. You were always talking, but never to me. You never told me. Why didn’t you tell me?

I didn’t know we had no forever. I didn’t know that, over everything, you wouldn’t choose me. I didn’t know that you found your happiness in her.

What is love?

I didn’t know. I don’t know.

#fiction #love #heartbreak #cheating #gay #lesbian #bisexual #lgbt #lies #sad #challenge

When I was growing up, I always wanted to be an author. Being published was something I thought was so almost unattainably attractive. I wrote stories when I was a kid and was praised for my writing ability. English classes in high school were always my favorite, and editing friends’ papers is something I still enjoy doing. Reading was a hobby I grew up with. My friends were all nerds like me who read all the time, and I look back on those times sentimentally. However as time went on, I found myself reading less and less. The required summer reading books became a drag and I always procrastinated when it came time to read them. Textbooks became a nuisance to read in college and my attention span dwindled over time. I even started to hate writing because all I was writing were essays about topics I didn’t care about.

I was talking to my boyfriend about building my confidence today, because in my long time of knowing him, I’ve only increased my confidence gradually. Reflecting on his self-confidence journey, he told me that he was told to find something he liked doing and was good at. He explained that that advice helped him become the confident person he is today, and that I should find a hobby that I’m good at.

I looked at examples of hobbies to partake in, and nothing really struck me. But then I remembered- words have always fascinated me. I decided I should try writing again.

Born from Nothing

Born from nothing,

to become something.

Covered in goo,

to one day become something new.

Crawling over nature,

something to be endured.

Until one day, when all is rearranged,

and life will be forever changed.

Breaking free from a self-contained prison,

to fly away freely like colors flashing from a prism.

Wings spread wide,

flying everywhere, not wanting to hide.

How long will this last?

Until remembrance of days have long past.

Fly away, fly away, and never ask why,

oh, fly away, fly away, little butterfly.

******

The butterfly is commonly known as the Cosmopolitan

******

As originally written:

10/21/67

Written sometime after midnight

Two more remain.

What I forgot to tell you, that day in the rain,

What I forgot to tell you when we first met,

What I forgot to tell you on our 10th birthday,

I forgot to mention that you're beautiful.

I forgot to tell you that my heart stops for a moment just thinking about your alluring presence.

I forgot to tell you that I love your curves,

your soft and smooth skin,

your star-filled eyes,

your beautiful smile.

I don't see that smile anymore.

I forgot to tell you until it was too late.

When I told you that you're beautiful, you didn't believe me.

They had been telling you otherwise for too long.

You were marring your skin, ripping your own hair out, trying to leave the body that betrayed you.

You were crying.

You were trying to make it better, but you didn't know how.

I didn't know either.

I forgot to tell you that I thought you were perfect,

I forgot to tell you that I've always thought you were perfect,

and you took it out on yourself.

Now- I won't forget to tell you that you'll always be beautiful to me.

But the damage is done.

blurred pictures

are my favorite

because they remind me

of you

and your half

-commitment,

-love,

-effort

that made everything we were

a little hazier.