Authors.com

Authors, Writers, Publishers, and Book Readers

Unseen tears fall as even now I truly can't show how I feel.
I wonder why that is, that I can't just shout
And scream and say what my heart & soul wants to...
But I choose instead to withdraw into myself and
Pull on my well worn mask of positivity.

We go way back, my mask and I.

More years than I care to admit, even to myself.
So weathered now from overuse,
Thinned to the point of transparency
Yet moulded perfectly to my face...
Its vast knowledge of every contour
Gathered from repeated visits to me.

My practiced smile looks so genuine,
Although that it is merely a well honed skill
Crafted to perfection to conceal.
Rarely are we separated.
Like an old friend dropping by,
It comforts me awhile...
But today that is shortlived, superficial.

In disgust at myself, I discard it.
In my heart I allow myself to feel the aching pain of lost love,
Missed opportunities and wrenching regret.
I reproach myself over and over
In my turbulent mind.
I could have done more, said more...

To be loved, truly, wholly and completely is a rare and beautiful thing.
I want to be cherished once again, caressed once again.
That's all I ask in life.
To have that chance once again, to be loved, heart and soul,
And to return that love in equal measure.

Once, just once...is that too much to ask?

I cry out in anguish, alone, unheard
This desolateness so familiar to me.
I weep until it racks my body, registering fitful thoughts in
Puzzled amazement that emotional need can tear at you so.
Disillusioned now, I wish it were not so.

I am spent of tears, aching painfully from stifling heartfelt sobs.
Reaching out with unsteady, shaking hands,
I retrieve my mask from the floor. Holding my side
Like a broken doll, I lift it to my tear streaked face.
It glides as smoothly on as a second skin.

I am camouflaged again...

The familiar stranger's eyes in the mirror
Reflect disdain, but I don't care.
It'll get me through another day like it always has
Though in my heart, I ache for that wonderful day
When I can discard it forever.

--------------------------------

This was a card version of that poem I made.


Views: 82

Comment by Viviana Arteaga on October 8, 2009 at 4:49am
Wow it really you know hit home for me! It was an amazing piece.
Comment by Kay Elizabeth on October 8, 2009 at 5:41am
Thank you Viviana. It was written when my first marriage was falling apart and no-one knew. So every day I put on my mask metaphorically to hide how I felt. My family was shocked when we split up. I got so good at hiding how bad it was for so long no one suspected a thing. That taught me nothing's worth losing yourself like that over.
Comment by Viviana Arteaga on October 8, 2009 at 5:50am
Yea I'd do the same thing whenever I felt bad or what not, I don't show it and just help everyone else who has problems.
Comment by scribbler on October 9, 2009 at 9:43pm
You've got to take care of yourself before you can look out for other people Vivi. When you feel good about yourself, then when you help others you're more effective than when you're wrestling with your own problems too. Does that make sense? Everyone needs to find an outlet instead of holding upset inside.

Nice work Kay. :)
Comment by Viviana Arteaga on October 9, 2009 at 11:52pm
lol i get it from my mom. Shes the same way but thats why I write thats how I get my things out.
Comment by Sandra Kitchen on October 10, 2009 at 7:14am
Kay, that is a really sad and yet beautiful piece of writing. Yes, I can hear the pain in it and I am sure that during some part of our lives we all at one time or another do hide behind a mask. The shame is no matter how bad things can be, given time they usually change for the better.
Comment by Kay Elizabeth on October 14, 2009 at 7:37pm
lol i get it from my mom. Shes the same way but thats why I write thats how I get my things out.
Me too Viviana, and I take that from my own mother as well. It's always better out than in! :)
Comment by Kay Elizabeth on October 14, 2009 at 7:45pm
Kay, that is a really sad and yet beautiful piece of writing. Yes, I can hear the pain in it and I am sure that during some part of our lives we all at one time or another do hide behind a mask. The shame is no matter how bad things can be, given time they usually change for the better.
Thanks Sandra. I tried to wait it out, for sixteen years in fact, but to no avail. My ex was a secret alcoholic for a decade of that and I helped him hide it from everyone, making myself very ill with the stress in the process. Basically I wanted the change and he didn't. He ignored the doctors and kept on. One day it struck me that if I didn't leave this would be my life until I died. By this time I was nothing like I used to be and no longer knew who I was. The decision was made as simply as that to end it. I'll post Reflections of Self on my blog. It's about that turning point.
Comment by Aline Teixeira on May 29, 2010 at 11:38pm
Dear K.

It's a poetry... worred to understand the sense I can't feel the musicality of the verses. But reading the another comments I'm sure that has so much feeling.

And I see in every sentence the philosophy of the aphorisms hiding a lot of pain. The desire to be loved... When the ache waste, all that we need is love. I've never known u, but wish some way u can forget all the regret. Why? Because this text I remember my mom's pain with her dead father (cirrhosis/alcohool)... people must to think twice before start hurts their children, parents, partners... and then don't can to come back to the old and good life.

Great writing...

Finally, hard may be our journey, but never is given to us a rood we can't to support.

Aline N.
Comment by Kay Elizabeth on July 31, 2011 at 5:56am
Aline, I'm so sorry I never saw your comment before. Thank you and be assured I had moved on from there. If you read another poem of mine, Reflections of Self, it's about that turning point.

Comment

You need to be a member of Authors.com to add comments!

Join Authors.com

Sponsored Links

Most Active Members

1. Edward F. T. Charfauros

San Diego, CA, United States

2. RF Husnik

Green Bay, WI, United States

3. Rosemary Morris

Watford, United Kingdom

© 2024   Created by Authors.com.   Powered by

Badges  |  Report an Issue  |  Terms of Service