PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have a marriage where I have always been loyal, honest and respectful.

You don’t.

I have class.

You don’t.

I have dignity.

You don’t.

I have integrity.

You don’t.

I have beauty, both inside and out.

You don’t.

I have self respect and self worth.

You don’t.

I have strength.

You don’t.

I have loyalty.

You don’t.

I have good character.

You don’t.

I have respect for other humans, as much as i have for myself.

You don’t.

I have street smart and common sense.

You don’t.

I have parents/grandparents who are proud of my choices. The ones they know and the ones they don’t. I know this.

You don’t

One day I hope to have children and when I do,  I will have children who have a good hearted, moral mother. One who leads by example and shows them the right paths in life. Always.

You don’t.

He chose you because you are everything he never wanted in a partner.

Someone with tattoos

Someone with children

Someone easy

A whore

He chose you because you are everything he never wanted in a partner

Someone who would cheat on their husband

Someone who would cheat on their children

Someone easy

A whore

He chose you because you are everything he never wanted in a partner

Someone weak

Someone with low self respect

Someone easy

A whore

He chose you because you are everything he never wanted in a partner

Someone with no class

Someone with low self esteem

Someone easy

A whore

He chose you because he knew he would never want you. He wanted me but he needed a whore. 

You told him you loved him.

He told me "I was doing it for us"

You told him you loved him.

He told me “She was just a hole to stick it in”

You told him you loved him

He told me “She was easy”

You told him you loved him.

He told me “I did what I had to”

You told him you loved him.

He told me “She meant nothing”

You told him you loved him.

He told me “She could have been anyone”

You told him you loved him.

He told me "The sex wasn't good"

You told him you loved him.

He told me “I had to think of you when I was with her”

You told him you loved him

He told me “I love you”

To me and everyone else you were always Alex C.

I fell in love with Alex C.

I married Alex C.

I travelled with Alex C.

I wanted children with Alex C.

Alex C. Told me I was his everything

Alex C. Told me he could never hurt me

Alex C. Told me I was the only one for him

Alex C. Vowed to be loyal to me forever

My Husband Alex C.

Then one day you were Alexander.

I cried because of Alexander

I broke because of Alexander

I lost my love because of Alexander

I have a hole in my heart because of Alexander.

Alexander knowingly hurt me, more than anyone has hurt me in my life.

Alexander did unspeakable things to me

Alexander broke his vows

Alexander gave himself to someone else.

A whore’s lover, Alexander. 

You told everyone you wanted to be Alexander but no one listened. Is that still what you want Alexander?

"Don't get so frustrated, 

it's only a book, 

or a few words

that you threw,

hoping they might stick.

Sound familiar?

Surreal,

especially if you've stuck with it.

Life can be funny like that,

in fact, it is,

that the same things

seem to alwaus happen

to people who may wish

it wasn't the case;

assuming it's negative.

Once you give it a second

to process,

it's wild to think

the same exact advice

you give

is the opposite

of how you live

your own life.

Some advice...

Twice now I've had to step in.

To stop the golden desires

of sundrops on skin,

forbidden,

when there has already been seeds sown,

a tree has been growing,

and now there's doubt,

the axe lays on its side

nearby. Nearly every time,

it can hurt to cry,

but not if infidelity

is the reason why. At least,

let's hope 

that's not the case.

I'd hate to see the fallout,

it'd be all over the place."

Eyes closed.

The distant sound of lazy, rolling waves caresses your ears. You're no stranger to patterns and repetition, but the predictable noise of the tide is somehow different, somehow comforting.

Inhaling deep breaths of salty air that carries the song of no responsibilities or cares, you revel deeply in the foreign sensation of utter tranquility. 

A bird calls from somewhere nearby and it shakes you only slightly from this dream like reverie.

A perfect escape.

You find yourself humming along to the tune of the breeze as it playfully ruffles your hair; the thought of sangria crosses your mind for a brief moment, but drinks are best for leaving the office behind.

And right now, you're in paradise,

no liquor required.

You stretch sore muscles, still stiff from sitting in that damned chair for what feels like days on end. The warm tropical air seems to breathe life back into a weary body.

Your shoulders momentarily shudder. The weight of your normal life unexpectedly seeps in like an unwanted visitor.

Guilt.

You fumble and struggle to push it out of your mind and refocus again on the warmth of the midday sun against your face.

Outside of this place, there's a storm. A relentless hurricane that batters against stability; torrential rains pound against buildings and flooded streets keep you trapped in that  office.

It's a dreary and abysmal existence.

If you think hard enough, you can recall a time when the sun would shine bright, and the sky was an endless sea of the richest blue.

When birds chirped melodies and the trees gladly borrowed  shade with leafy green palms.

Yet what once was life in technicolor gave way to dismal greyscale, and soon the rains came. What was supposed to be a season stretched on for uncomfortable lengths, and one day  you realized the storm was here to stay.

The relentless showering of water upon rooftops, and the continual howling of angry wind was enough to drive a man mad.

Yet you'd caught glimpses of the sun a few times- the briefest moment when the blanket of sullen grey cracked, and for those few seconds, hope was renewed.

Hope that the sun may yet shine again, that the birds may return; the only memories of the storm now collecting in raindrops rolling off their feathers.

It wasn't much, but it kept you holding on, and that's when you stumbled upon the secret place. A hidden corner of the world, somehow untouched by the storm outside.

It was the best and worst thing you could have discovered.

Each visit was a small slice of paradise, a break from watery misery, but your footprints tracked muddy reminders of bleak reality every time you entered. You feined ignorance but couldn't turn a blind eye to what was happening.

White sands, gradually staining with the murky darkness of the storm.

So often you mused to yourself if this place was your savior, or ultimate damnation.

For as pleasant and relaxing as it was, the nagging guilt of leaving others outside  as you indulged in relief left you walking back into the downpour with your head down,  and heart heavy.

It was impossible to tell if this tropical escape was necessary for staying your sanity, or if it was only a matter of time before it too fell prey to the swallowing blackness looming on the doorstep.

Only the roaming hands on the clock face of life could know the answer you searched for. And if you were honest with yourself, nothing else could quite compare to the way this beachy escape could make you feel. It stirred a long dormant part of you awake, and to lose this secret cove could feel like severing a lifeline.

You needed this.

For a man can only take so much mud and water squelching in his shoes before he slips under the same floods that have claimed so many before him.

"Perhaps, just perhaps, ignorance truly is bliss"

With renewed clarity, you dig your toes beneath warm sands  while the seagulls call, and a smile of contentment settles on your face.

When the breeze blows just right,

and the waves crash in tune,

you can nearly drown out the sound of the wailing winds behind you.

What do I do when 

Everything is not enough?

What do I do when 

I give all, and it is rejected?

What do I do when the love

That was meant for us two to share

Is cheapened by another?

Love is not cast away,

And suffering is sure to stay

And so alone I cry and moan 

And tell the world 'leave me alone!'

And accept what I never can condone.

And I wait for when 

She wants love, not lust,

And comes back to me.

I wait for when everything is enough.

I'm glad my love could be art splatter 

for you and she, the both of you to

whom nothing much matters but a

sure fuck, and with any luck,

material for your next piece.

My hand aches as it longs to hold yours,

like my heart ached when you held hers.