Dinner Time

This is a time when I can relate,
And when I no longer debate,
If my time is being spent wisely.
This is a time when we gather,
And don’t notice the time pass for hours,
Despite a taste in my mouth that is sour.
But this time it is not from my inability to relate,
It is from the food we are attempting to make.
This is a time when we gather to speak,
About nothing and everything.
And this is a time that I keep dear to me,
While we create the food we want to eat.
This is a time when I feel comfort,
And when I allow myself to freely exert,
The personality that I once found absurd.
And with the passing of time,
I continue to find,
That I have found people of my kind.
This is a group who I love,
Who will gather to create dishes we once heard of,
And wanted to try but needed a reason to share,
The daily habit that we pair,
With in depth conversation,
Over the food we are making.
This is a time that feels like family,
No matter who might be surrounding me,
Since this is when I am free,
To practice and learn the words I speak.
This is a time when I feel no pressure,
To always do things better,
Because I know that my company,
Will never be disappointed in me,
As we share food and this moment so complacently.
This is a time when I see,
That I am more than the goals I seek,
And I can finally believe,
That this is where I was meant to be.
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Allow Me To Introduce Social Anxiety

So nice to meet you,
Said with a grimace,
Was where I once drew my limit.
So nice to see you,
Said with a smile,
Is something I have not meant in a while.
So nice to be here,
Is something I wish I could hear,
Myself saying as you walked away,
Leaving me to face my anxiety in a new way.
Because as if the puking wasn’t enough,
I had to go and seek out love.
I wanted to know what it is I could be,
If I tried to be me,
And I wasn’t sure if you would notice,
That I wanted more than this.
So nice that you tried,
Was yet another lie,
That is tearing me apart from the inside.
Since you did not seem to see,
Who I was attempting to be,
When I finally forced myself to speak.
So nice that you came,
Was what I wanted you to say,
And what my ego needed you to convey,
So that I could feel desired in some way.
Since I have see a light in the eyes of others,
From the first moment over which I stumbled,
To produce words from my mouth,
And attempt to have something worthwhile to talk about.
I can see that they are engaged,
By most words I choose to say,
Since I have trained myself to act this way.
But I have faked the light in my eyes for too long,
And I am looking for someone with who I can belong,
Who sparks the interest that I have been searching for,
And never allows my mind to be bored.
I wish to see the same fire,
That has sparked other’s desire,
To continue speaking with me for a while.
I wish to see that light returned,
And that there is something for me to learn,
From the interactions that I spurn.
But I am too selfish in the relationships I seek,
And I am too self conscious of the words I speak.
So nice of you to notice me,
Is what I reflexively think,
Before I have any clarity,
That I need to be the first,
To extend my hand and do what I can,
To break down the icey facade that I hold,
And learn how to be more bold.
Since I am the one who is hesitant to see,
That I am the only person preventing me,
From being the outgoing person of who I dream.
So nice to be you,
Someone who actually has a clue,
About what it is they need to do.
So nice to hear your voice,
And allow myself the choice,
To turn off all of the surrounding noise,
And truly listen to the words you speak,
Looking for the key to the secret you keep,
About how to show a light in your eyes for these words,
And conversation that was previously unheard,
Since I would have never given this conversation a chance,
If I were the one with the last,
Say in how this would go,
Since I would refuse to allow myself to know,
That this moment of anxiety will pass,
I just have to learn to outlast,
The first moment when you approached me,
And I was allowed to speak freely,
To which I had a reflexive response,
To only speak the words I thought,
You wanted to hear from a person like me,
Who avoids attention so desperately.
So nice of you to speak,
Is what you should have said to me,
Because that is the most I could accomplish to think,
As you pressed me to open up more,
And I no longer had the choice to be ignored.

Denied

I made a huge mistake.
I thought that when you relayed,
That you liked me in some way,
That I should be willing to try,
To attempt to be by your side,
So I showed up for you,
To see what you like to do,
And I was rewarded with being ignored,
Passed off to others who did not choose,
To talk to me as my excuse,
To see more of you.
I should have said more,
Or I should have not gone,
Because the vibe I got from you was not strong.
I am not sure you were happy to see me,
And I am not sure that I can really believe,
That you are actually all that into me.
What kills me is this isn’t the first time,
That I have felt I was out of line,
With what you wanted from me,
And what I was willing to be,
Except all other times I thought I was the one lacking,
Any effort to show you that you are worth,
The pursuit of someone as awkward as you now see,
Explaining why you wouldn’t speak to me.
I did not help the situation,
When you gave me the easy option,
To leave and not continue repulsing,
Any attraction you might have left for me,
In times when I did not act so desperately.
I wanted you to see that I put in an effort,
And yet that effort went unfelt,
Making me the target of desperation,
Wishing that I was better at faking,
An excuse to come and see you,
Making it less obvious that I was on the pursuit,
Of your attention alone,
Thinking that I was the only one you invited,
And that I had a reason to try.
But you made it very clear,
That I should have not been here,
Stalking the scene that you’ve kept to yourself,
Knowing that if I wasn’t there you would have felt,
Indifferent to my absence,
And moved on with your tactics,
To hit on other women who do not lack this,
Ability to be confident in their pursuit,
And be able to not chase after you,
But instead have you seek out them,
Because I am not the woman you wanted.
So I apologize for having tried,
And I am sorry that I am even alive,
To inflict you with my unexpected compromise,
To attempt to be someone you are proud to have by your side.
I am sorry that I was there,
When I thought that you would care,
Because this is obviously going nowhere.
I am sorry I dressed up,
Thinking that it would help my confidence some,
Because it only made me more out of place,
And I think you were ashamed to face,
That I followed you here like a puppy,
When I should have seen,
That you were no longer talking to me.
I refuse to take the hint,
And I pursued what I didn’t,
Think I should consider,
As an opportunity to be,
Part of a public we.
I should have stayed at home,
Or I should have picked up my phone,
To give you the opportunity to deny me,
But instead I made you see,
That I want you too desperately.
I am embarrassed about this,
And I am sure you won’t miss,
Having to avoid giving me a kiss,
Because you never said you wanted to claim,
The person that I am,
And you never attempted to hold my hand,
You just moved on from where I stood,
And I saw a different version of you,
One in which you will not admit,
That I can be more than this,
Occasional piece of ass that you hit,
And someone you are proud to stand with.
But I gave you that opportunity and you denied it,
Making rejection something that I once again have to live with.

Can I Bum An Ear?

We sat killing ourselves slowly,
While we killed time,
Talking over the ideals that don’t align.
We hashed it out,
With nothing really to talk about,
Except everything over which we have doubts.
It lasted just five minutes,
Or it turned into a chain of this,
Talking and smoking and thought provoking,
Wondering where all of our words are going.
Is the other one listening?
Or are we just blowing,
Smoke in each other’s faces while knowing,
That this is the time we needed,
To discuss everything over which we once conceded.
I find myself looking forward to these,
Moments in which I cannot breathe,
Because I have so much to relate with each,
Inhale I take of smoke,
And words over which I normally choke,
But somehow are set free,
When we sit down just you and me.
This is when I see,
That there is more to this we,
Than the spliff that we share aimlessly.
There is more beneath the surface,
Than the routine of this practice,
And there is a significance behind our tactic,
To casually discuss all that is on our minds,
Allowing our thoughts to unwind,
While paying no mind,
To the casual passing of time.
I cannot count how many moments we have shared,
When I was thankful you were there,
To listen to my rambling thoughts,
And recognize that I have fought,
To keep them inside from everyone else,
And not share the reasons I repel,
Everyone but you at the end of my day,
With the troubled words I have to say.
Since you know how to turn them around,
Bringing up points that are more profound,
Than I thought you could convey,
Since it was not what I was expecting you to say.
You break the pattern of my mind,
To resort to thoughts that are unjustly unkind,
Since you have practiced the same self defeat,
And you do not want to see that same struggle in me.
I have learned so much during these moments on the porch,
Speaking freely of that which tortures,
The minds that we have watched grow,
While contributing ideas that we can sow,
And wait for another day to show,
When we allow the significance of what we say,
To sink in and change the way,
That we each approach this mess of life,
That is punctuated by the times we tried,
And reconveniend in this reprieve,
When we refuse to criticize,
Without offering another reason to stay alive.
I have learned to live for these moments,
Despite the weight of knowing,
That we are both killing ourselves slowly,
As we inhale another breath,
And release the words that needed to be said,
While ingesting the intoxicants on which we depend,
In order to create moments like these,
Where are free with the words we speak.
And I find that I do not regret these,
Actions that we take so lightly,
Of sharing a habit that will be the death of us,
Knowing that we do so out of love,
Since it provides us with this opportunity,
To hear each other clearly.

A Tainted Attempt

This practice started with a need to heal,
But I turned it into a time when I don’t have to feel.
There is integrity in my drive to keep this body alive,
But I have mislead it with how I actually spend my time.
I started this habit with the hope that this practice,
Would prove to soothe the results of other unsuccessful tactics.
I sought out yoga with the intention of good,
And I turned it into something that I shouldn’t.
It is a practice that was pure and sacred,
And I saw it as an opportunity to get baked.
Since I took something that is good for me,
And turned it into another form of deceit.
At times I do not think I believe in my own practice,
And I realize that I lack this,
Ability to think clearly,
As I stare through a self-made smoke screen.
I still have the chance for redemption,
But I find the prospect less tempting,
Than the chance to get high once again,
As I inhale the intoxicant on which I depend.
I have taken a practice of self love and movement,
And turned it into something I will only follow through with,
When I have a smoke in my hand and headphones drowning out,
All of the thoughts for which I doubt,
I have anything to brag about.
Because I am not following through on what I meant to do,
And I am not trying to heal the way I thought I would,
After years of being devoted to movement through yoga,
I have jokingly turned it into a practice I call Smoga.
Since I never took this change seriously,
And I refused to believe that I have the capacity,
To one day practice this more clearly,
Without the smoke that clouds my lungs and thoughts,
After listening to the lessons I was taught,
By myself with this nightly practice,
As I utilize a combination of the wrong and right tactics,
Showing that I have the power to rise above,
But never truly following through on a practice of self love,
Since my actions are tainted,
With the practice that I fake,
As I inhale smoke and exhale a sense I can’t shake,
That I will never be able to heal my self-inflicted heartache.
Since I am attempting to make the right decision,
But I have created such a wide division,
Between me and the words I speak,
Showing that my resolve is weak.
Since I cannot seem to last another second passed,
Without succumbing to the worse of my two practices,
Choosing to inhale smoke instead of fresh air,
And doing so without a conscious care,
That this contradictory practice is getting me nowhere.

Good Boy

It has become routine for him to do yoga with me,
And I have come to depend on him as my friend.
He never speaks words of judgement,
And he never conveys that he is disappointed,
In the choices I might make,
Instead he chooses to lay,
Right next to me in my times of need,
Listening to the way I breathe.
He has grown to watch over me,
Counting me as a reliable friend,
And someone on who he can depend,
To pay attention to him instead,
Of pass by without a glance,
Never giving him the chance,
To become the support I sought,
And to soothe my negative thoughts.
He is persistent with his patience,
And I don’t have the faintest,
Idea why he continues to try,
To be there for me when I cry.
He is patient with my tears,
And he has been for many years,
While listening to my greatest fears,
And understanding that our friendship
Is something that I hold dear,
Despite not offering much in return,
For the lessons he has helped me learn.
Since he was the one who accepted me,
And all of my faults so plainly,
Before I could accept him,
And all on which he also depends.
He looks forward to our time together,
No matter if it is spent in hell or fine weather,
Since he can count on me,
To be the friend who he sees,
As both an adventurer and a partner,
Who he can count on to never falter,
In the routines on which we have both grown to depend,
In the pursuit of what we are seeking in the end.
It is in moments spent with him,
That I have learned to look within,
For the answers that I feel escape me,
And the patience that I know I need.
And while he watches and listens to me breathe,
I begin to believe,
That he might be the best thing for me.
Since he joins me for the habits that I should embrace,
And he encourages me to pick up the pace,
Because despite of his old age,
He seems to have more energy every day,
To carry on with persistence,
And believe that it is worth it,
Because he will get to spend another day with me,
Laying on my floor as I work through reality,
Matching the way in which I breathe,
And catching my eye as I lay down my head,
With a look that says he will never regret,
The time he has spent with me,
And the comfort of our routine.
He almost wore a smile,
As I laid down on the floor for a while,
Allowing the weight of life to wash away,
As he watched from where he lay,
We have the perfect relationship for me,
One in which I am the only one who can speak,
Yet it is not words we need,
In order to convey what he means to me.
I take a deep breath and release my head,
Turning to look at him relaxed in his bed,
And with this small sign of recognition,
That is when he begins,
To wag his tail with a joy,
That I depend on from my devoted boy.

Reunited by Insecurity

I thought that this reunion would hold the key,
To the person I once knew myself to be,
Since I am surrounded by the people who once knew me.
They knew the classes that I took,
And the way that I once looked,
When I was younger than I assumed,
And I thought that this is what I was meant to do.
They knew me to be an over-achiever,
And someone who befriended the cheaters,
Who were too lazy to try in class,
And instead copied off of me for a free pass,
Since I was the person who had their shit together,
And a competitive youth by nature.
I wanted to succeed,
And I wanted you all to believe,
That I have become the best version of me.
Since it has been ten years since I have seen your faces,
And it feels like the time we spent together was wasted,
Since I barely remember who I was to you,
And I cannot recall the actions I pursued.
I am finding it hard to conceive,
Who I was when we were just eighteen,
Learning how to identify as a me instead of we.
It was a collective effort to grow and mature,
But now I see that our efforts were absurd,
To try and control what we went through before,
We had the opportunity to change our reality,
Before we knew who we would grow to be.
I see now that I was at a disadvantage,
When I trusted that high school was the only vantage,
Point I would see from,
Determining the person I could become.
But as I am reunited with all of you,
I realize that there was so much more I went through,
Which I cannot begin to relate with a truth,
That I was once the person they thought they knew.
Since I didn’t even know me,
When I was so young and afraid to speak,
And restricted by the limited capacity,
I had to express with who I might be.
I believed that high school might show me,
Who I was destined to be.
But now I see —
That you all never actually knew me,
And I never grew to know you,
Since we were obsessed with what we were each going through.
We were selfish and narcissistic,
And youthfully optimistic,
About what we would prove with this,
Youth and the capacity to dream,
To become more than who we first seemed,
When we were all still learning,
Who we each  would prove to be.

Happy Women’s Day

Who is a mother?
And how can you be,
Someone on who I once depended entirely?
How did you carry that weight?
When I was just a thought,
That developed into something that you brought,
To life in this hell of a world,
And encouraged to be bold.
When did you accept this role?
Was it when your pregnancy was foretold?
Or was it when I was in your arms to hold?
What made you the mother I know today?
And how can I thank you in so many ways,
For bringing me to life,
As you approached your midlife,
And did not fear the impending knife,
That I would prove to be in your side,
Testing your patience with time.
We have been through much,
And I know the meaning of tough love,
Since you were the one who taught me to rise above,
The confines of the title handed to me,
Of the first daughter you had to keep.
There was a pressure placed on me,
To be more than you could dream of ever receiving.
I was supposed to be a gift,
Not someone else to fight with.
I was meant to be a friend,
And someone on who you could depend,
To look after you as you age,
And return the favor that was once paid,
When I was just an infant,
And yet I still resisted,
Bending to your honest wishes.
I refused to be the person you might need,
And yet you still accepted me.
Since I was a gift that you eventually had to part with,
And I never seemed to fulfill the myth,
That I am worth a whole life to give.
How did you accept this disappointment?
And how did you come to live with,
The fact that I was not who you once sought,
And I refused to listen what you taught?
How did you have the patience to survive,
Through such trying times?
Since I know that I was not a perfect child,
And it has taken us a while,
To reach a place where we can smile,
And say that it was worth the pain,
Since we both lived to see another day,
And we still have the opportunity to convey,
The love that we have shared always.
But who are you?
After all that we have been through,
Are you still the mother I once knew?
Or have you changed with my influence,
As I have changed with yours,
Or is this change something we will both ignore?
Can I learn to be something more to you,
And repay the debts that I have accrued?
Can I leave you as more than just used?
And can you accept that this is something I never meant to do?
Since it is the honest truth,
That I have always blindly loved you.

Recognizing Progress In This Mess

Yesterday I made progress,
With the habits I want to dismiss,
And the thoughts that I once missed,
Telling me that I can do better than this.
And with today being another day,
I have another opportunity to say,
That I am committed to display,
That I have the strength to convey,
That I am more than how much I get paid.
I have allowed this complex to plague me,
And I am disappointed with most everything I be,
When I open my mouth and listen carefully,
To the detrimental thoughts of which I speak.
I wish this would all reveal itself plainly,
So that I am finally able to see,
Where it is that I am going.
Since yesterday I saw a chance to change,
And yet today I re-embrace the pain,
And I see nothing left to gain,
For driving myself insane,
With these wishes and thoughts that I detain,
From becoming the reality I seek,
And being less powerful than the words I speak,
Allowing disappointment to become a piece of me.
Since I want change so badly,
And I ache insensently to finally feel free,
To the point that I am ignoring this opportunity,
To be someone in who I believe.
Since yesterday I had the chance to run with this,
And today I have already dismissed,
What it is that I seek in bliss.
When I come around to old thought patterns,
And I focus more on what I am returned
Rather than what it is I still have to earn,
And what lessons I have to still learn,
Feeling that there is so much more time to burn,
Before I achieve what I previously spurned,
To live a life that is free from complexity,
And to be proud of the words I speak,
To live for the moment rather than the plan,
And to have a friend to whom I extend a hand,
In confidence that I have secrets to share,
And that I will always act with care,
Since I cannot be compared,
To the person that I wish was there.
I must recognize what I have inside,
And learn to balance it with the time I bide,
And be someone who will stand by my own side,
When the goings get tough,
And I am devoid of self love,
I must remember that yesterday I was proud,
Of what I accomplished somehow,
With the help of no one else,
And these feelings still felt.
And today I have the opportunity to say,
That I have the ability to convey,
That today is a new day,
And I do not have to obey,
The old habits that I have grown into,
And there is no one I have to prove this to,
Besides the person who I wish to be,
And the reasons that I have to believe,
That I can be more than what I currently see.
Since I am the one applying this pressure,
And I know that I can always do better,
But it is with time that I will prove more,
And there is nothing I can do to make time move faster.
I am where I am and I do what I can,
In order to make life something that I am happy to live in the end.
Every moment will not hold significance,
And there are times where I feel that I’ve missed,
The point of what I was getting at with this,
As I ramble on with no point to return to,
And I still have not conveyed what it is I seek to do.

I Used To Be

I used to be so much cooler than I am now.
I used to have drive and a reason to stay alive.
I used to think that there was so much more to do before my debut,
Into this life and the title that I now hold,
Of a professional who is incredibly bored,
And a friend who feels ignored,
Of a lover who seeks a permanent position,
And an intellect who continues wishing,
That there is more for me to accomplish if I want this,
And there is more for me to observe if I do not want to preserve,
The traits that I find to be absurd,
When paired with a sense of unnerving bravery,
And the capacity to finally see,
That I am doing the best I can with the audacity,
That I can change everything.
Since I used to know where I was headed,
And I used to have placed any bet on the fact that I’m determined,
I used to feel a conviction to continue wishing,
To be the boldest version of me and the kind of person who might believe,
That I have so much more to achieve.
But I used to be so young and full of blind hope,
That I almost regret the words I spoke.
I used to have such a drive to be alive,
That there was nothing new I wasn’t willing to try.
I used to actually believe that I had not yet discovered me,
And all that I was destined to be.
Since I never considered the possibility,
That I might fail to find what I seek.
I never thought that I might be in this position,
Where I am still wishing,
For the answers to what it is I’m missing.
I used to think that I’d have results by now,
And that I would have figured out how,
To live a life of which I am proud.
I thought that by this age I would be able to say,
That I boldly live each day,
And have ability to breakaway,
From the habits that have caused a delay,
In me recognizing that I am where I am,
And that I have to learn to understand,
That I have no influence over this experience,
And that I will get nowhere as I reminisce,
Over what it is I might have missed.