Tag Archives: confessional poetry

To Be Wanted

Is it so much to ask
the moon to ignore the stars
and just gaze on me
and shine all the brighter
after swelling with affection
and glowing in my reflected
life? I suppose there’d have to be
life in me to start with.
I suppose I’d have to have
light so contagious no one
would want to put me out.
Yes, we need to want ourselves
if what we desire most is
to be wanted.


A Lover’s Faux Pas

To this day he won’t admit what it was.
In his brokenness, and mine, he pinned, drowned
me, pushed me, and thus his grief fable, down.
Broke in and entered–a lover’s faux pas.
Hellish red leather, hot under babe claws
scratching for mercy, reaching all around,
grasping, gasping for air, arms to surround
me with security– Force made me pause
beneath him. But I am not beneath him.
No. And it’s not crying wolf when the sheep
lie mutilated, when memory stains
reveal this harlequin’s bitter chagrin
at the truth that makes me weep; that this creep
moves on unscathed while I maintain dried veins.

Do you know loss?

I know loss that fills you with emptiness,
So gaping a hole it leaves you as a piece of a whole.
I know loss like a single Monarch Butterfly
Trapped within four white walls, no throne to be found,
Trapped within a room all white like a jewelry box lined with shimmering satin
Waiting and eager to hold a precious jewel, to have a reason for its folds and wrinkles.

I know loss like a tear in that shimmering satin
Waiting to rip open and show the truth of what lies beneath
Beauty: simple, cardboard mimicry of the wood it once was.
It once was wood among many in a blanket of trees;
Many breaths of fresh air when in unity, but alone
Just a stump of memories.

I know loss like the last page of a favorite book being torn out,
Never to be revisited, never to be known again.
I know loss like fading memories, and unreliable recollections
Of chuckles and giggles, with his nose scrunched up
In his fits of perfect giddiness. Or was it even giddiness?
Was it, maybe, just bliss?

I know loss like not being able to capture a lone Monarch in the woods, free and flighty.
I know loss like not being able to capture anymore into words what it is to feel bliss.