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Tag Archives: hurt

What about the beautiful wrinkles?


What about an old cowgirl?
who will love all her wrinkles now?
all the cowboys are still getting chased,
while she’s out still chasing the cows…

She’s doing all the dirty work
the grit, the hurt, the mornings before dawn,
but with all the pretty young faces,
who’s there to stay up and listen to her song???

What about the world explorer?
the one who did peace corps and has seen war?
what about that poet who gave her youth
searching for answers, to write the truth?

Who is going to see her travelled skin,
and love it for all the places it has been?
She’s the story they will all love to read,
but the guys still go for a prettier young thing.

What about the single mother who tries
to raise the daughter he left behind?
with a heart stronger than steel
and 80 hour shifts to pay the bill…

Who’s going to notice her strength?
What guy will go buy a brand new ring?
Oh they are such a foolish lot,
men never know the love nor heart they’ve got….

And what about every woman with silver hair?
what about the 35 year olds who are single out there?
what about us girls who have hearts of gold,
…all the guys only want someone less than 25 years old…

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So shall end my war.


I just want my heart to love,
but have a heart that fights…
it guards and battles breaks and pain,
but it brings its own type of demise…

I just wanted to be soft and sweet
like my childhood when i trusted.
but time hardens and leaves cuts,
like sweet rain leaves doors rusted…

and i may be alone and angry inside,
i may live in my own storm of lies…
i may allow my demons to stay alive,
and i may insanely fight the same battle another time

I may bathe in my own fire and tears,
i may distrust before they have the chance to care,
and i may live in a sort of constant fear,
but deep beneath, a hope lives here.

Deep below the dirty ground of blood,
and the skeletons that scared me into hiding under my bed,
where it is too quite to hear the chaos above,
there is a faith, that shall not be one counted as dead…

and the wars and storms i’ve called to rise,
swirl around in the winds of cheap compromise,
but when i overthrow the kingdom of my life,
it shall be ruled with peace, as love the prize.

Thinly painted on the surface, and buried at my deepest core,
my sanity lives, and is remembered as strongly as before.
Someday the flashes of rage, and resentment well-worn,
shall fall apart, and surrender to grace, and so shall end my war.

 
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Posted by on January 8, 2015 in Faith, introspective, life, Poetry, Stories

 

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too much coal


There is a darkness to my soul that is soaking in
a coldness that makes me back away again…
they can’t be trusted, i never should have opened up,
build more solid walls, turn away from their love…

i’ve tried so hard to forgive and to let go and be soft
but the magma boils in my heart and my words become lost
the one who i wanted so badly to love me and to be proud
is the one who seems to have an agenda to bring me down…

so love your pretty little lies you carved into the photo book,
to church, wear a pretty dress and your most reverent look.
While I apply sparkly pink eye shadow and charm the elite,
i’ll float around claiming we are a perfect mother daughter team…

but behind the giggles and closed doors, and empty emails exchanged,
there is the dark past, with ghosts and wicked roars of rage,
a chilling lack of satisfaction and an empty black hole
forget the healing, there’s too much baggage, too much coal.

 
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Posted by on November 25, 2014 in (negative), from past journals, life

 

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as confident as my wrinkles.


getting wrinkles is probably one of the
greatest horrors of every young woman.
Or that realization that she no longer is
really that young of a woman.

you look back at photos, and realize
that you didn’t even know you were beautiful then.
nobody told you. they all just teased you
assuming you were so secure you already knew…

nobody told me i was wasting my youth
nobody told me how short it was going to be
everybody told me that i’d have plenty of time
and everybody told me just to take my time…

and i did. and now i have wrinkles.
wrinkles that don’t go away when i stop laughing.
wrinkles that dig deeper into my skin and confidence every day
wrinkles that force me to grow up.

maybe it’s a good thing, you know?
maybe they force us out of that relying on looks phase.
and it’s true im still more beautiful than i’ll ever be again
but gosh. when you find those old pictures… i hate to admit im that shallow, but

…it hurts. i don’t want wrinkles. i don’t want to grow up.

they force me to realize im getting older
and that i need to decide what to do with my life.
and then i look in the mirror again,
and i still haven’t done enough to justify my age.

i fear i shall never be as grown up,
as mature, nor nearly confident as my wrinkles are.
they told me to travel the world while i was young
and then i woke up, and i wasn’t young anymore.

all the great guys were married,
all the hot guys were losing their hair
and all the great and good looking men, i realized
were never perfect to start with, they had a girl who brought it out…

and id missed my chance a million times.

 
 

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between hurt and rage


somewhere between the hurt and the rage,
a longing panic cried ‘don’t go away’…
somewhere between ‘please stay’ and ‘goodbye’
I was in shock, as i looked into your eyes.

because i don’t understand why…
was she more beautiful than me?
for those 3 minutes did you believe,
that we weren’t ever going to be anything?

Did you think i wouldn’t care?
but even then, i just don’t see how…
you could love me like you say you do
but kiss her 3 weeks before you move down.

So many stupid journal pages
I’ve scribbled on and on about you.
so many nights i spent just imagining,
that you were lying in my bed too…

and i’d been waiting and waiting,
and was just at the point when my cold heart melted
and decided to open up and trust
and i just hate how you did it, but im the one who got f***ed

im the one who felt it so wrong in my gut.
im the one who feels like im less for your wrong
im the one who questions what is love,
do i know you? you aren’t who i thought…

 

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your salesman lies & rusty trash


you sell yourself like a sweet sweet car
tell me about the pretty paint & voom voom power inside
you told me cash only, had me pay upfront,
then you gave me the keys & that’s when I found out you had lied…

oh your shiny little lies how they gleam,
oh your lovely fake leather seats…
oh your pretty words skipping over dings
you’re lying to the world about everything…

but let’s face the facts, you’re in a used car lot,
with a gaudy salesman jacket, who nobody trusts
and it doesn’t take much to see i’m in a whole other class
i’m a genuine find, & you’re busy hiding your rusts

 
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Posted by on December 30, 2013 in guys/girls, life, metaphors/analogies, Poetry, Stories

 

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Today, I’m a bitch


Today, i realized how sour i’ve become
today i realized I’m a jealous bitch
today i realized i’m not really a good person
and today, I realized i’m not over it…

I’m not over all the rejection, all the hurt & lies,
I’m not over all the people I’ve left, or friendships I abused,
I’m not over all the people that I’ve left behind,
and i’m not quite ready to accept the truth…

today i realized i play games with boys
because it’s the only control & power i get
i’m not where i want to be in my life
& failure kinda sucks when it starts to sink in…

Today i realized I don’t want to let anyone love me
because the people who love me, I always let down
I know this sounds depressing & sad and all that,
but all i feel is angry & annoyed with how it all turned out…

Tomorrow, i may learn to love the world again
tomorrow, i may want to let someone love me too,
tomorrow, i may just be happy & content with life,
but today, tomorrow seems a little vague & untrue

when you look under the bandaid
there’s ugly scars & open wounds
Does anybody ever really heal from the world?
or do they all just bullshit their way through?
I mean, even Jesus still has wounds

 

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