by Rochelle Del Borrello
There have been better days than now,
felt less lost and confused
not so sad or deflated
I wish for one of those
better days instead of smack
bang in one of the worst ones.
Nothing going right
love went to waste
efforts all worthless
and so, so far away
from everyone I love.
The hurt comes in tears
that bastard blows up in
your face,
whether you like it or not
that emotion's going to come
knock you over and make you
I wish for better days.
They will come; be patient.
You can be red raw and still sing your song.
You can have tears in your eyes and still tell your story.
The truth is where the tale lies.
You cannot or should not wait to share it.
The emotion will help you to connect to others.
Because everyone can see you
understand and communicate
with feelings.
So don’t be afraid to bleed onto the page
we all have the same blood in our veins.
I blew you a kiss even though I wanted to give you a real one.
I turned around and walked away.
Heartbroken.
I wish you’d followed me.
I never wanted to hurt you, but I think I did.
I was so stupid and naive, I never saw you.
Actually I thought you didn’t like me.
It is frightening to bare your heart,
declare your feelings.
Most people are afraid
when it comes to big feelings.
Was I really that intimidating?
Couldn’t you have said something.
Why was I so blind?
Why did I have to fuck up my life so much?
Now we are so far from one another.
I don’t know if I can pull myself out of the hole I’ve dug.
I need to get out of this pit because no one is coming to rescue me.
And you don’t even know how much I ache for you.
I’m surely damned.
Poetry is deceptively delicate
it's a whisper which gradually becomes a scream
a dream turning into a nightmare
which stays with you all-day
a compliment transformed into an insult
subtle niceties and manners on the
surface while being sarcastic and real below.
It is the truth, leaking out
of the heart despite itself.
The beat of a constant drum
below the flourishes of what we
create for ourselves.
Subversive, not submissive
honest razor-sharp observation
its words are strength,
they can be deadly.
Thank the muse for bringing the light
of poetry, into a tenebrous world.
I see right through you
and into your wild madness
like a transparent teardrop
a bubble that bursts and dissipates
trickling down my leg
and into the ground
drying up in the sun
an anticlimax, all but forgotten.
Sometimes I get tangled up with everyday life.
One fine, straight cotton thread becomes entwined
around my family, work, children and economic situation.
Once it was easy to thread a needle and get to work as I please
now the loop is twisted and turned upon itself around others
and then back to me.
The more I try to pull away from it the tighter it becomes.
Like those poor sea lions and marine animals caught up in plastic
fishing lines cutting into their own skin
around mouths, restricting movement until they starve to death
Could I cut myself out?
What would be left of me?
The thread is cutting off chunks of flesh
surely there won't be much of myself left
the tangle is too tight to be unthread.
I confess I am lost
without hope
free falling through life
doing enough to barely
keep breathing
is that enough?
To live with each breathe
holding onto this existence
through inhaling and exhaling
in the most basic of actions,
hoping death doesn’t come
filling the lungs with air and
expelling carbon dioxide.
It seems so little a thing to do
when a new plague
robs people of this
simple action
taking their lives
by taking away
the abililty to breathe.
There have been better days than now,
felt less lost and confused
not so sad or deflated
I wish for one of those
better days
instead of smack
bang in one of the worst ones.
Nothing going right
love went to waste
efforts all worthless
and so, so far away
from everyone I love.
The hurt comes in tears
that bastard blows up in
your face,
whether you like it or not
that emotion's going to come
knock you over and make you
wish for better days
they will come, just be patient.
Oozing creativity from every pore
her mind ticks over incessantly
as she welcomes solutions to her problems
and offers a comfortable place for
new ideas to rest themselves
many of her endless thoughts
are consumed by the monster called doubt
one by one she fishes out the shredded fragments
patch them up and try to move on
those who survive her own doubt will survive anything.
You can reinvent yourself
endless times in life
so don’t be so precious
about failing,
just get up and reset.
_________________________________________
Don’t accept what others think
as the truth of who you are
you are your own creation.
_________________________________________
Today I ate, drank and lived
without sharing online
and I felt truly alive.
___________________________________________
I carry my fear like a heavyweight
many kilos of fat
pushing down on my bones
making my movements slow
and wearing down my momentum.
I'll never allow fear to make its
home in me
I hope it moves on
I push it away.
A violent act forced fear into my life
like so many random accidents,
which happen when no one expects
so much bigger than any one person
forcing us to live with
the trauma of broken things.
These are my many lives
lived in one lifetime
tired of re-inventing myself
all the blood and tears
who's going to notice a
little lisp on the tongue
mixing up the words
forgetting some names
a little white lie
some worry lines
slightly battered and bruised
by life,
but I persist.
