“Name’s So Sweet a Word, Yet Poison to My Brain”

Your name’s so sweet a word
Yet poison to my brain.
It’s endless nights of knowing
That you’re waking up and going
On your new day without me.
And in my mind you’re smiling,
And laughing with new friends,
While I lay awake,
A prisoner of my thoughts,
And wait for them to end.
Again.

Then when I wake up,
I might hope you sent a message.
When I see you didn’t,
I’ll get strength to be a better me.
But if perhaps I check
And I see you’ve wished me well,
Darling, you don’t know the agony,
From your care,
That I’ll be bringing to myself.

They say first love scars,
“Get over it.”
I should really listen to my friends.
Friends who aren’t you of course,
And they’re hardly the same.
Because,
I like you,
I trust you,
I love your name.
And I know I love you too,
but we can’t play this game.

“it’s going to hurt until one day it doesn’t.”
That’s my wisdom of this year.
And I say it every day
Followed by the phrase,
“Does it hurt?”

Even in the sunny days,
The answer stays the same.

But no.
This cloud is lifting.
Even if alone,
My heart is freeing.
And when I’m not tired from thinking of your name,
I start to notice my own,
And it’s something I will claim.
I notice the people around me,
still foreign and distant,
But alive and human,
Just like you.

I’m surviving this insanity
Marked by the pretty word “love.”
I owe it to myself.
I deserve to be conscious,
I deserve to be sane,
I deserve to be living,
Even when I think your name.

(From the unpublished archive 2014)

“I Will Not Be ‘Your Girl'”

I will not be “your girl,”
Few better insults can there be.
Even for a couple months,
I belong to me.

You say that you may love me,
Crave me, and adore me,
But do you capture birds perched at your window,
Or cut the blooming roses from your garden?
You let them be,
In their true nature,
Free.

In what oh pretty mind of yours,
Does it make sense to place shackles,
Rules and guards upon my door,
In fear that I will disappear,
And want to be with you no more?

When did love become possession?
When did fear become our king?
I would rather break,
Than to ruin a charming thing.

In what oh pretty mind of yours,
Will this be the best use of my beauty,
To take a place upon your arm,
But have my wild substance
Judged and slowly taken from me?

Birds in cages seldom sing.
Roses cut will die in days.
If you place me on your arm,
I will surely fade away.

Sonnet #1: “Decision”

For days and nights I contemplated
if I should say “Goodbye,”
And this deciding, I grew to hate it,
As every hour flew by.
If I leave now, I can’t look back,
In minutes I’ll surely be in tears.
But if I stay, the view’ll be black,
My freedom gone, replaced by fears.
My time is up; I choose to walk,
Leave a love for an unrenowned direction.
Welcome Storm, whom I won’t block,
All I offer you’s affection.
But what surprise! Today, the Sun rose bright and clear,
And here I am, still waiting for a tear.

 

__________________________________________

Thanks to a class of mine, I am inspired to write in more rigid formats. Although it seems to hinder expression, it also enhances it by forcing one to use words and phrases that might have not come to mind otherwise.

“Love Don’t Make Me Heavy”

Love don’t make me heavy,

Heavy with your pain,
Instead make yourself a summer wind
With light, with a resolution plain.

Love don’t lead me into darkness;
Haunted forests are a dangerous place,
Instead take me to the edge of water,
Or a meadow far from rain.

Love don’t push me to possession,
To the slavery of fear.
Instead make me your prophet,
To spread the purity of cheer.

Love I tell you, you can take me;
Take my thoughts and take my bones.
But I tell you, you can’t make me,
Cry more tears out of hopeless wants.

Because dear drug,
You’re solely mine;
It doesn’t matter whom you say
Has caught my fanciful eye.
He might love me or might leave me,
But you love, you will always be my bride.

By Krisi

Posted on December 25, 2014March 6, 2015Categories PoetryTags free writing, freedom, happiness, heavy, love, Personal PoetryLeave a comment on “Love Don’t Make Me Heavy”

“Rock Climber, No Rope”

Rock Climber, No Rope

By Krisi

 

I’m rock climbing,
Attached to a single rope.

I’m confused, the rope can only reach
so far.

But what if I, in rash
decision,

Decide to let it go?

What if I, Kristina,

Take
a scissor and just "snap"?

 

 

Snap goes the rope,

But I don’t fall.

I have hands. I have feet.
I have will.

I am surviving. I am
climbing.

I am going in any direction
I choose to go.

 

 

"One wrong step,"
I think, "who will be there to catch you?"

My rope’s no longer there.

I’ll simply start falling,

But in my fall, I’ll
encounter many things,

Some of them ropes,

And I’ll grab on,

And I’ll be fine.

And I’ll start climbing
again.

In whichever direction I
choose.

 

 

It’s my mountain, it’s my
life.

And I’m free to fall,
and free to climb.

It’s my fall, my climb.

My freedom:

No rope.