where does joy hide herself
behind barriers you think
that mark off the lines of
wayward roaming impressions
I can't decipher the code
I would label all this though
circumstantial depression
I'm in a place
and I want out
oddly enough its a rather lovely
place to find one's self trapped in
others would gape at my willingness
to leave so eagerly
all a beautiful mirage in hell though
says me
I cocooned myself with lovely 'Things'
that told me a story that this is a home
and here I am happy
but in the end they are just 'Things'
and 'Things' do not make a woman
like me happy
they wall paper rooms and make them
seem prettier to the eye
even bamboozle the brain
into thinking
hey, this is not so bad of a place
but its just an illusion
and many an afternoon I laid in a big
empty bed and cried
because I bought into that Ponzi scheme
of happiness
I read a few times that we create the
pain we find ourselves suffering in
and maybe that is true
I'm just a woman
trying to walk out of a life
that is fast collapsing behind me
everything once wonderful
is now a twisted reflection
of what it can never be again
in bright new love
some years ago
we bought a home together
but I'll be selling a house
when the end finally and truly ends
and that's a very sobering realization
to cap off a former life lived with..............
(June 5, 2010 257am)


Author's Notes/Comments: 

working through the muck here lately that seems to be my wobbly life.

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