Everything is perfect here . .
But I couldn’t create here . .
Somewhere over there . .
That is where I had to be . .
In the middle of chaos . .
I could write your fucking noose . .
So tight around your neck . .
Fit snug, your own death making you feel so safe . .
So sad you believe in fate . .
You don’t just die . .
You create this death . .
Your final masterpiece . .
I see it in his eyes. Everyday. So I joke around. Mess around and pretend to scoff. Pretend like it doesn’t matter that I see the disappointment. Disappointment is following me everywhere. I am sorry. I really thought that I would have made you proud by now. That I would have found some job that would make me financially secure, so that I didn’t have to live at home still. So I didn’t have to be a daily disappointment for you. I know you see my brother and some of my cousins and all that they are doing, or your friends kids. I know you are pry embarrassed when you have to tell them I am the local gas station Queen and that I am not at the moment attending college. You tell them yes I still live at home and no I am not using my nurse aid certification. I know you want the best for me. I want these same things for myself. I want them in a different way, maybe it took me this long, what five years. Five years of moving away, trying to make it on my own, trying to find happiness, love. But always coming back home, always. So I wasted these years, precious years that I could have gobbled up and used for improvement, to find myself. Take myself from everything I knew and loved. To go and figure out just exactly what I believe is right, good, wrong, evil. Who am I. I ask myself this question every single day. So yes I wasted those years and now I face everyone and the disappointment they feel for me. I could say sorry and yes I am sorry. But lets get something clear, I am not here to live for you. I am here to live for me and every dam mistake that I make. I am here to figure out who I am and to figure out what I believe and how I want to live my life and eventually what legacy I want to leave. And I am here not to live just selfish, but realize I am but the most insignificant little being. But I found that I can be something. To other little unimportant people when I am there for them, when I give myself over to help someone. I can have purpose in helping someone, in hearing what they have to say.
Again he looks at me with those disappointed eyes. Sometimes I don’t know how much more I cant take, the myriad of faces staring at me, judging me, what I have done, what I have accomplished and what I haven’t.
And yet I have this feeling in me. If I the failure himself. Can get up every morning can face the day tell myself that. “I will make it, I wont be a disappointment, I will find my way.” Then my question for all those peering, prying and unfaithful eyes. Well I say to them. How can I believe in myself when you don’t believe in me. I know that no matter what, one day I will make it to where I can be happy with myself. Where I can live with myself. Where I can be happy with the person in the mirror.
I will.. I will.. I will..
I realize that this path I travel isn’t for anyone… but set apart, solely for me
All I ever wanted was a little lady
Maybe she could take away my crazy
Each night she would pray for me to be blessed
Her perfumed head resting upon my muscled chest
I would protect her from her drunken brother
In return she would make love to me like there was never another
But when I open my eyes, she is never there
So I keep them shut, pleading with God, bring her back here
Every Time I Close My Eyes
Copyright 2013 Hannah Marie
All rights reserved, Inflicted Delusions.
- Tagged blessed, brother, chest. sleep, crazy, dissapear, drunk, insane, lady, little lady, make love, melancholy, muscled, poetry, pray, writing