countdown

aretha franklin – never loved a man

you spent

10 years wishing i would notice you

8 weeks breaking down my resolve

6 months telling me beautiful lies

4 minutes breaking my heart

i spent

2 years not seeing

there was nothing

to believe in

© jmr/2012

you love me…

You love me
I suppose that’s enough for some
And analyzing the statement may appear senseless, critical, without right or provocation
Still I feel the need to decipher your definition

I think I know “you” are somewhere inside your skin
You’re yearning to be discovered
Like a Hollywood starlet waiting tables

You love me
I can assume that means you know everything about me
You feel my feelings, you live in my mind, you devour my soul
You want to reach inside yourself and display your guts to me
In your open hands

I can assume that means you wake in the morning to your first thought
Of me
And you lie in bed at night absorbed in thoughts
Of me
And you dream of the next time we’ll be together
In wake and sleep

Truth is… I do not know

I think of ways to reach you – to pull you out of your head
For two seconds
I say things to you without thinking and instantly wish
I had not spoken
Why is that?
Because I share what is deep inside of me
And you dwell on the surface

If I give you time will you meet me half way?
If I wait until you’re ready will it break us both?
What if you are who you are now
And there is no more
What if a lifetime of this… silence
Awaits me

jmr/2005

illusions

You say you’ve changed

You have grown

Rehabilitated from your addiction

To breaking down

A Strong Woman

 

I beg to differ

 

You sound different

I’ll give you that

Your tone is sweet

You seem to be listening

 

You’re rolling your eyes

On the inside

Now

Aren’t you

 

How hard do you have to

Work at the illusion

 

How difficult is it

To remember

Where you left off

What you last said

 

A fresh coat of paint

Only temporarily covers

The surface

 

© jmr / 2007

dig.deep

Dig down as deep as you can reach
Please
Try
For me

Is there anything there that you
Want
To
Share

Staring off into space can’t be
The best
That you
Can do

Try some honesty
What
Are
You
So
Afraid
Of

You’re trying so hard to hide
But you
Don’t
Realize

I see through you

jmr/2010

distant memory

The years pass by so quickly

I look behind me and realize yesterday

Is no more than a distant memory

Another wasted chance

Another missed opportunity

 

Don’t try to understand me

Because you never could

Don’t try to take anything more from me

I’m running out of things to give

And you’re only here because you think you should

 

Be a man

 

The way you think a man should be

You don’t give a shit about me

I’m a symbol, a resolution

To your emptiness

You have no direction

And I’ve almost got nothing left

 

Don’t feel sorry for me

Because I don’t

Don’t sympathize with me

Because I won’t

Accept your pity

 

This will only make me stronger

 

I want something more to hold onto

Something I can sink my teeth into

Someone whose depth inspires me

 

And that someone isn’t you

 

Don’t try to love me

Because you don’t

Don’t try to take anything more from me

I’m running out of things to give

And you’re only here because you think you should

 

Be a friend

 

The way you think a friend should be

You don’t give a shit about me

I’m a symbol, a resolution

To your emptiness

You have no direction

And I’ve almost got nothing left

 

© jmr / 2008

 

equality

You’re not good enough for me.

Not the vulnerable “you’re not good enough for me” where I need someone to agree

Not the vindictive “you’re not good enough for me” where I’m trying to hurt you

Not the anthem “you’re not good enough for me” where I’m declaring my woman-worth

In the insecure in-between where I don’t yet believe it myself

But the truth I’ve always known in the back of my mind

I tried to ignore it
I hoped I was wrong
That it was because I was scared
Because I needed to learn how to trust
That I had too many past hurts
Causing me to color outside the lines
Of what was real

You’ve always known it, too

Looking back, I can see it crystal clear
Your discomfort whenever I got too close
To exposing your lack of confidence
To illuminating your imbalance
Simply by being myself

I gave, you took
I loved, you absorbed
I spread my wings, you did everything you could to clip them
You needed me so much more than I needed you

I was solid, you stood on sinking sand

© jmr/2009

what really is…

i opened my world to you

it was a bit reckless

to take it all at face value

i feel a bit foolish

now that i see

what really is

maybe i wanted

too desperately

to believe

in magic

© jmr / 2009

you’re an open book

please love me

and if you can’t
with your whole heart
with everything inside of you
then please
don’t try

i can feel it when you
only
have one foot in
the door

i’m finding it harder
to hang on by this thread
wishing for the day
when i see the depth of my emotion
reflected in your eyes

please desire me

and if you can’t
with your whole heart
with everything inside of you
then please
don’t try

i can feel it
when you are trying to make up
for lost time
by pretending

don’t keep me
holding
on

til you decide
there is no one
out there
better suited
for you

you either do
or you don’t

you will
or you won’t

decide

© jmr/2009

with awkward hands

you were there
you were never there

i tried to find the love
you never gave
in the eyes of a stranger
in sweet lies whispered in the dark

i was good
i was never good enough

so many wasted years
defying your
lack of approval
reconciling my sense of self worth

filling my life with people
and things
and noise

but

in the end
all i had
was nothing more
than castles
built with awkward hands
at the edge of the sea

© jmr/2009

pity

driving home to your little wife with her little mind and nothing nice to say…

no more good night kisses

nothing to look forward to

the reality of your misfortune hits you

this is it
too late to turn it around now
to start over
too embedded
too intertwined
too deep
too much

to undo

your own voice no longer makes sense

even to you as
you lay awake at night
beside a stranger
living inside a stranger’s skin

trying in vain
to sort out the events of the day

what was said

what was truth

your own meaning lost in the translation

perpetually suspended between
what you are
what you always dreamed you would be

and what you will never
become

©2008/jmr

broke

you are relentless

you like this game

don’t you

put your money where
your mouth is

i’m calling your bluff

you shouldn’t take bets
with no money
in your pockets

©2008/jmr

shifting sand

the rise and fall
of contradicting
waves
erodes the shoreline

returning grains
to replace some
of those
carried away

but
it’s never the same
as before

© jmr/2009

diluted…

“Whoever is careless with the truth in small matters cannot be trusted with important matters.” – Albert Einstein

the truth becomes diluted
twisted and tangled
in shades of grey
and semantics

but i know it’s there

in the past
in the minds
in the memories
of those
who loved you
before me

like pandora’s box
waiting to be opened

behind your dark glasses

beneath the way
you make yourself
bigger than i am

when you see me
seeing through
you

© jmr / 2009

physical representation of my own critique

I knew exactly what I would say; do
How I would tilt my head while I listened

When I would bite my tongue
To stop the tears

Press my fingernails into my palms
Resist with everything I have

Then I opened the door
Stepped out into the bitter air
And choked on all the emotion
Thick in my lungs

I knew exactly what I would wear; think
How I would twist around in my chair

Trying not to feel awkward
Trying to recapture how free you used to make me feel

Just for a moment

Then I remembered
I was sidetracked

Disallowed to pay attention
To the truth
By my own sensibilities

Disemboweled by my own critique
Parallels coming from your lips, but rooted in my own heart

© jmr / 2009

speechless

i have nothing to say

 

it doesn’t matter anyway

 

the words that would escape my lips

mean nothing

 

i almost feel crazy

 

it’s lazy

 

this way i half way love you

half way give you

 

nothing

more

 

than a whisper of a promise

© jmr / 2008

reasons

i wonder about your reasons

why do you find the need now

to reach back in

repair the past

 

i feel like your newest hobby

your latest whim

a scheduled task in your

busy day

something extra that you really

can’t seem to

fit in

all the way

something you feel

you need to do

to be like everyone else

 

your parents did you a disservice

by grooming you to believe

real life and adulthood

was a series of notions conceived

by ozzie and harriet

a hand full of predictable

lines and situations

 

the more you see

of who I am now

the closer it seems

you must get

to me

 

i don’t think you want to

break me down

i do know that you

love me

 

well… what I believe to be

your idea of love

a self prescribed fantasy

something ambiguous to believe in

relate hopes of your future to

loosely hold as your “plans”

 

if you are near me

does that automatically mean

my successes are yours

my life belongs to you

and you don’t have to work

so hard

at creating your own sense

of normalcy

out of what you believe

to be

seriously wrong

in your existence

 

are you lonely

and you think I can fill your void

are you oppressed

and believe I can be your voice

are you without dreams

and feel I can lend you mine

are you out of hope

and feel like I’m your last chance

 

© jmr / 2008

 

it just is

There were times

That I recall with fondness

But mostly

I don’t understand

Can’t condone

Can’t even begin to imagine

In my reality

 

To a mother

A child is innocence

A child is promise

A child is an opportunity to succeed

 

A child is everything

 

I know that now

 

So what, then, if anything

Was achieved

What lessons instilled so strongly

Permanently shaping character

What then…

Downcast eyes

Extinguished will

 

Constant shame

 

A guarantee of backward development

And a lifetime of clawing back out

Of the chaos

Into normal

And sane

 

So many years lost

So much to make up for

So much to never get back

 

How is it that now

I can match my gaze to yours

And hardly remember

It was you

 

The struggle made me stronger

Right or wrong

 

Inconceivable or ‘normal’

 

It is what it is

 

It just is.

 

© jmr / 2008

 

collecting stones

There was a bit of jealousy on my part, I admit it.  You knew my husband way back when – before I ever existed…  The two of you grew up together – took baths together as toddlers and spent the night at each others houses – I get that. 

You had this air about you – I couldn’t put my finger on it at first; during the whirlwind of hello, how do you do, so nice to put a face with a name and all that.  You were tall and gazelle-like, perfect posture, great eyebrows, glossy dark hair, willowy limbs and a smile that all but knocked the wind out of me.  You were one of those “I just wear mascara and a bit of gloss” kind of girls who looked like they were airbrushed in person, while I struggled with powder foundation to achieve a slightly muddy effect, at best.  I was in awe of you.

And then…  you opened your mouth.

“So what do you do?”, you asked sweetly.  I’m an observer and typically wait before jumping into conversation while others are struggling with awkward small talk.  But you did not want to let me do that.  You were on the hunt.

“I am a graphic designer for a web based application development company; specializing in advertising and marketing”, I answered.  I was proud of myself for having my networking persona on, even after the double vodka red bull I indulged in while getting ready that night.  I silently congratulated myself and waited for you to respond.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, all excited, as your eyes danced brightly in their sockets, “you can probably answer this then!”  Great, I thought, a job interview on a Saturday night with one sheet to the wind.  Sure, sister, lay it on me…

“I am having trouble with my website.  I moved my website to a different server and I can’t seem to move my blog.”, you said.  I could see the glee in your eyes as I informed you that there were many possible reasons you were having trouble, and offered you my email address so we could discuss it further in a setting more conducive to troubleshooting, etc.

Nevermind that you asking me that question was kin to asking a car detailer if the transmission in your car needs replacement…  Kind of the same industry… but not really… and yet, I was still willing to try to help you. 

I lost you at the first sentence.  Your eyes began wandering you scanned the room for someone more interesting to talk to, and in those moments I realized that you had no use for me if I couldn’t give you the answer you wanted to hear on demand.  I could actually see the wheels in your mind turning as you nonchalantly mentioned that you worked for a popular news station in California, something about audio/video…

You lost me too.

I watched you the rest of the night playing the same cat and mouse game with other people.  I watched you as you justified your “unholy” behavior as a teenager by saying you had made amends to Regina for pretending she didn’t exist in High School after a lifetime of playing dolls and house and riding your bikes together.  I saw Regina looking at you with doe eyes and telling you how much she missed you, while you casually crushed her beneath your size 9 four inch heels.

I watched you as you piled food on your plate and let it sit there (until the waiter edged cautiously around the table and eventually removed your meal from the table) so you could go chop it up with Regina’s mortal enemy from school; leaving her sitting at the table by herself with nothing to do but watch you. 

In the back of my mind, it irritated me.  But I let it go at the time because of who you are to my husband and the history you share.  I chalked it up to perhaps you were nervous, I fantasized that you had an eating disorder resulting in those willowy limbs, and began to feel a bit sorry for you.

A few days later, you emailed me letting me know, in that same sweet if not condescending tone, that you had sent my husband some photos from the reunion and it was so very nice to meet me.  Your auto signature contained a link to your website.  So, like any self respecting woman would do, I clicked on the link.

Nothing.

I laughed as I realized that you still had not worked out your cyber issues and then began to Google your first and last name.  I found your blog on MySpace; reminding myself that you were, after all, still in your 20s and that made perfect sense… I began to read.

Your last post was in 2006.  In that post you had a link to the same website that wasn’t working.  I giggled again as I realized how many places you had probably noted “I have a website now, click here”…

And then…a heartfelt blog regarding “snap judgmental behavior within seconds of talking to someone new”, “being able to decide everything about someone just by hearing them express a single sentence”…

Really?  Ha!  Oh yes…  you hit the nail on the head, sister. 

I have to applaud you for recognizing such an ugly trait and putting it out in the street like that.  And on the other hand, I had to read the date again to be sure you weren’t talking about me (it was several years ago, mind you… but I looked nonetheless.)

And then I realized some things:

I do not like you. Even more so now – because not only are you evil but you KNOW you are evil and you continue to be evil in a nice girl suit.

You are one of those “God” people who remind me why I don’t like church – organized religion, in my opinion, does not equal salvation – it is just another version of high school and people living in their own glass houses, collecting stones to throw from the privacy of their back yard hiding behind by a 6 foot fence.

You may be beautiful on the outside.  But on the inside you are just like me.  Imperfect.  Insecure.  But unlike me, you are shallow and frivolous with the emotions of others.

I may tell my husband how I feel, and then again my sentiments may soften within the folds of my heart and stay there.  But know this.  The next time I see you, and you attempt the two cheek air kiss I’ll extend my hand instead and look you square in the eyes without saying a word.  Then I’ll smile and ask you, sweetly, “have you figured out how to move your blog yet?” ~ 2007

microcosm

You attempt to control your microcosm

By dressing up

As someone with a conscience and superior intellect

As though you admired someone like that

One day

And mimicked their style

 

You are so crafty that

Most people don’t notice

 

But I do

 

To me – you are transparent

I feel sad for you

Lonely, old, tired, poor

 

No prospects

No hope

No dreams

No desire

No fire

No passion

 

Except

 

That which you steal from others

Exhausting their supply

 

You break people down

Then lament on how full of life

They used to be

 

You live in a twisted world

 

In photographs

Your demons are visible

Even to the untrained eye.

 

© jmr / 2006

bite sized pieces

i want more, want it all

everything i can touch

everything i can feel

everything intangible

top to bottom

inside out

no beginning no end

 

my passion runs deep

 

you cannot see me

you try

but

i’m a step beyond your grasp

a level above, below, behind

anything you can understand

 

it’s intentional, you know

 

you try to read my expression

but that’s not where i hide

 

you’re too one dimensional

to even begin to imagine

you think you want me

but

you can’t pick and choose

mold me into perfect

bite size pieces

 

my mystery runs deep

 

there are some things i will never be

norman rockwell didn’t raise me

i think your ideas are so…

without depth

uninspired

 

you want me to don white gloves

and be a lady

 

it’s almost comical

 

i will never be

just like you

 

© jmr / 2008