I used to twist my words until they told stories I had never heard before.
Too forgiving, other people used to say.
A woman—
Maintaining imagery,
An object to be viewed.
I know how to blame myself
And how to polish the same wineglass till it sparkles—
Till it shatters in the hand.
I remember how to fold the clothes and wipe the counter wipe the counter wipe the counter till the grease is gone.
This is how he sees me:
A mirror to reflect his power.
This is how he sees me:
A canvas for his art.
Something put forth for evaluation—
From the roof, at night, we watch the stars,
Gaslamps lighting all the fires inside the mind,
Me twisting words until they tell a story I have never heard before.
Someone says that they had fun with me after a glass of wine
Instead of shoving me beneath they bed they smile and say
Let’s do it again, sometime.
The world slows
While the mind speeds through it
I remember how to pack my clothes
And then, of course, how to put them all away.
This is how he sees me:
Blank paper for his angry words.
An object for evaluation
How do I look inside a mirror
Or picking up stray clothing from the floor.
The thoughts and how they scatter
The moment someone turns a light on,
I remember how to pack a bag
How the second drawer down to the left gets caught, each time, on its own tracks
How the second drawer down to the left gets stuck
I remember how to pack a bag
I remember how to leave.
Oh my I felt that.. chilling.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Still waters run deep. Love the power in this. ❤
LikeLiked by 2 people
💙💙
LikeLike
What beautiful writing.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you 💙
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh my God this is so good – I love your words – like melted chocolate with a hint of chilli – the darkness that makes the light feel so much warmer by contrast. Beautiful. May I share?
LikeLiked by 3 people
Of course! I’d be honored for you to share. It was a unique writing experience—poetry is complicated in the need to express a lot in a little time. Thank you for reading 💙
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh Hi! Sorry I didn’t wait for you – I shared it on twitter yesterday (I’ve only been back blogging a little while and need to remember how to reblog)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow! There’s a whole story in the two lines about remembering how to pack and how to put things away. For me as a reader, there was no hope left for the narrator after those two sentences, so the ending two sentences lifted me right up. Beautiful.
LikeLiked by 2 people
The transition between communicating being stuck and being free was definitely important in this piece. Glad you got your hope back 💙
LikeLike
To be born female demands courage. Saying “no” and “remember[ing] how to leave” are essential to our survival.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Certainly both of those are lessons I wish I had been taught a bit younger in life. A lot of pain goes into learning those lessons as adults. I’m with you sister. Big love ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Damn, Shayleene, that was good!!! … you are now officially a ‘futher-mucking’ genius too! ;D
LikeLiked by 1 person
haha well thank you ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person