I have been feeling lost
Misplaced package type of lost
Delivered successfully to the wrong door
A friend said I had been quiet
Eerily quiet
Missing from me
How is that possible
You said I was too loud
Too much
While not being enough
Hoping I didn’t introspect into oblivion
Give me a minute
I will be back
Lost myself for a spell
In the we of it all
I unraveled a string
In this thread of my life
Handed it to my destroyer
Who unraveled my life
All strings attached
Played me like a ukulele
On the drunk man orchestra
An instrument
In a demolition man’s hands
Maybe if I take up crochet
Into a semblance of whole
I can ravel myself
As we walk into this next chapter
Turn this tattered page
May the wind that blows it past
Billow your Lucious curls
May the door we walk through
Get bumped shut by your round hip
May your thick thighs
Sway to the rhythmic ring of that new era chime
May the jiggle in your bottom
Keep in time with the hop in your step
Shoulders back and proud chest high
With that deep breath of new horizons
Alas! You are no knight in shinning armor.
You are a harbinger of sins and calamities throttled by frustrated ambition.
Why does good riddance to bad rubbish ,
Include tearfilled nights?
Heart wrenching regret?
Self doubt and destruction?
Why does bad rubbish,
Come with find memories and affection?
Why the punishment of knowing
You are the garbage receptacle
Permanently stained by your bad rubbish?
Can behoove you to doubt yourself
Leave you feeling lacking and beholden
Magnify your loneliness
Emphasize your detachment
Give you a case of the fomo
Whether a tinge or a crippling bout
Depends and if you meet the Hallmark standard
Are we surrounded by cheer and good tidings
Or content in your cacoon of judgement free rest?
Wherever you fall this season
This too shall pass
The beauty of falling in love
With the man you never was
Flirting with your potential
Lured by my unbridled imagination
Dazzled by the tux overlooking the troll
A victim of all the glitters
I have to say…
The marketing of your brand of substandard mediocrity
Was world class
So you are angry!
Full of righteous Indignation and venom…
What does it get you?
What happened:
She showed up. Took down every physical manifestation of what was their time together. Packed it up. Drove away.
Surprised herself more than she did him.
Why it happened:
When you hold a candle for the potential of a human, only to meet the reality of the putrid carcass that is parambulating in full disguise. The man behind the curtain.
He came in with promises and declarations. In retrospect, he came with warnings. You talked about his 2 yr timeline, narcissistic nature and ability to love bomb to compliance.
The honeymoon period was short and isolating. “Keeping the outside noise away” he calls it. Stories of how he has long suffered, been abused, manipulated and taken advantage of. Your empathetic nature buys in to protecting the hurting vulnerable human with no one. You put aside your hurts and absorb his. Take on the tiptoe around you and react to your mood of a battered partner. Fold yourself and lay flat as the doormat you are trying to mimic.
This version is boring because the game is to break you. This is his time to identify his next target.
That detached feeling of watching it play out. Acknowledging the tomfoolery of the facade. Understanding your potential for vindictive revenge to right your perceived wrongs. Knowing that prolonged hurt is not necessary. Sometimes good riddance to bad rubbish is enough.
I bestow upon you carte blanche to write your story. Tell it to your next victim. May they have better boundaries and self awareness.
Situation: I was abandoned by my dignity.
My story: It is 2pm in the afternoon, I have a 40 minute break between meetings after a hectic morning that started at 5am. I turn on my music, do my stretches and hop in the shower. I walk out to my room, forgetting I have my blinds raised and I am naked and undignified gyrating to 90s pop. As I am jiggle and wobble with a rhythm that has no relation to the song at hand, I make eye contact with Jorge. On his standing mower, with a big toothy grin. This is not how I thought I would terminate our four year relationship. As I stand frozen in place for what feels like a millennia… Jorge makes it to my window… does the turn to go to the fence… and I back into the bathroom. If you see my dignity dragging her tattered kaboose down the street. Tell her to come home. I need her.
Conclusion: Taking lawn manicurist referrals.
Short stories from a Broken soul 