Truckers Wife

Unpublished Work © March 7, 2015 Shanell Meek

I don't know how you do it they say,

I don't know how you stay,
When he's never there, 
But it's so easy you see,
To me he is everywhere. 
He's my morning wake up call,
He's my afternoon lunch date,
He's my dinner date, 
He's the last voice I hear each day,
He's there in my dreams, 
He's here in my heart,
He's here in every way,
Except one. 
It's the life of a truckers girl I lead, 
He's a hard working man,
With a dream. 
He's taking me along, 
On the ride of my life. 
Someday he's going to make me,
His truckers wife. 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this for my love.

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I stand up tonight 
to an ebony galaxy,
a sky full of twilight stars,
while I am here confined to my
cognitive scars , my memories are 
my self imposed bars.
I am looking for reasons
that give meaning to the 
last 13 years that my life ,  like 
Fall was in season.
I push through the murky surface
and watch those dreams 
slip down the time stream ,
into the enveloping cold
Grief like 
gravity`s reach 
pulling me rapidly through
the ripples.
I am searching for the sorrow 
under suppression 
in a deep depression
hidden in the hollow part of me.
The time is now to release this 
negative obsession,
the bereaved , funeral procession.
I `ll give it back to you , 
the agony that comes with the rain ,
Sober and stained by the life 
me holding
the pain 
without the 
of commitment.
I am turning my back 
leaving behind my self imposed bars,
drifting alone under sapphire skies.
The next time I`ll see  " you "  ,  through the disguise.
I`ll see the past through tomorrows eyes. 

Asian Eyes

Inside a room behind
silhouetted black hair
Khmer traditional wear
Ruined Dreamer
Asian eyes
confession to
to the illusions
she created
surely weighted
with regret .
Jaded dragon`s
burned desire.
A single wet tear
a rivulet .
Pallid and breathless
as the window
is drowned with rain .
gauzy grey clouds gather .
Thunder crashes
sending the fiery ashes
of passion scattered
into pieces back
into life's creases .
Chasing the spiral
of everything that made me feel
connected now
has left me divided into
Locked in a
lightless room divided,
I can see through the smallest
of windows provided ,
past regret to the pinpoint of life
that blooms on the horizon
behind the Dark City where there`s always
an door open
to the blood moon rising .
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Wednesday Wed

Mate Love
user img


On that Wednesday we were wed
On that Wednesday we were we'd
Near a windkissed dune by the sea
Crowned by wet dunegrass weeds


-saiom shriver-

(2nd version)

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                                                  Elizabeth My love

Love is;
letting go...
Let go of the past,
let go of the future.
let go of the sorrows.
Love is;
Finding Happiness.
Love is;
Being True!
Love is;
Becoming something more,
love is;
Finding hapiness and safety.
And my only love is you.

Elizabeth #$%##  #^^^$%^&

Author's Notes/Comments: 

my feelings.

The Naive

Once a day the naive say

I cant wait for my wedding day

They make their vows and give a ring

While some dance, others sing

The night will end when lovers bed

While the dreams of the future cloud their head

They wake in a daze of happily ever after

They start their days with love and laughter

As the days progress the nerves wear thin

Is that you, I have to nurture again

I'm beginning to feel used and neglected

You feel as you are already rejected

A sense of resentment builds inside

And to those vows you wont abide

Selfishness rears it's dreary head

And soon you'll find your love is dead

How can sweet love end so tragic

The naive think its full of magic

How do we avoid this disturbing truth

Pay attention to elders in our youth

See their patience, love & tact

Notice their manners, matter of fact

So forget your lows and forgive the lies

Focus on true love and compromise

Look into those eyes that once melted your heart

And vow again to never part

For one day, young new lovers will dawn

And how will they mimic old love if it's gone?

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            The gate is locked,
            but he tried his luck,
            The key so big,
            The gate so small,
            But by simple law of force,
            The gate gave way,
            With its pillars ,
            And all that held it firm.


The pain was excruciating,
My strength depreciating,
While my “grandfather” thrusts,
Laughing as I cried,
Panting as I gasped.
And when he was done he left.
Leaving me with tears, sorrow and blood.
Tears in my eyes, tear in my vagina.
And deep in my soul, I die.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The reality of underage marriage as practiced by some cultures.








The imaginary written validation of a person's ability to give and receive love with an individual and/or individuals.





Author's Notes/Comments: 

A piece of paper, no matter how legally binding, has not one iota to do with love. 


That is the truth.


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A Twentieth Century Girl is out of luck

My parents think you perfect,

I am not so sure

for though you seem majestic,

your intentions are not pure.


You claim you love me,

you act the perfect gent,

until the day I say I do 

and you take me for every cent. 


Though all I own is yours 'my love',

we share it you and I, 

through the looking glass I see

that glimmer in your eye,


when moneys thrust upon you,

like water on a duck.

I'd hoped for someone loving

but it seems I'm out of luck. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I hate how women were forced into marriages because a suitor was deemed worthy by their parents when some were infact horrible to their wifes and in it simply for financial gain. Oh and sorry for the duck similie it just fit with the rhyming seems a bit out of place but hopefully not. Anyway enjoy reading! 

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