Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

i am not a doLL.
i've decided that
a long time ago

*

but

*

porcelain & lace. bLack lace
is how i feel some days
about this stillborn thing
we insiSt on calling "love"

or. like a raggedy anne
with no arms
permanent smile sewed on

*

he stabs me with words
pouring from his aRtless soul
& i become the invisible child again
& i grieve. & i smiLe

*

i used to think that love was
a magical ballooN
with layers of depth & delight
liFting you. up. up. uP
but you. you cut me doWn
without regard. & i fall
& i grieve. & i smile

*

how can you deny me my souL,
walk away
& then return hours later
wanting to maKe love?

*

i am noT a doll

.

[complimenting art @ http://smilegrl.blogspot.com/ ]

feeling the ache m'little friend, this hurts.

big HUGS

mx

Strong tonic. A wake up call. A reminder to married men everywhere, reminiscent of the play "Doll House."

John

much power, in the angry words of a woman that feels used....a very bad feeling.......if it ain't a two way street, then somebody's driving on the wrong side of the road.....nice work, smile...the pain is front and center.........

I'm just not sure what to say to this, except, "Get out," but then, people said that to me in the darkest days of my marriage, and damn glad I didn't, but...Jeez, your hurt shines through this. I think saw is right on. Maybe both of you can turn off, find another road. I sure hope so.

Peace,
Barry

I read the replies to your poem and I realize what a creep I must be. Because I thought it was sexy. "You make it hurt so good."

Don't mind me
I am an old f*cking fool
everybody here knows that.

Good write, hard to read.
Reminds me of when I felt that way, years ago.
I realize now that I felt that way, because I was in it and not doing anything about leaving it. Leaving seemed impossible. How would I survive? I had my needs met and plenty of physical comforts. Security. Getting away seemed just as unthinkable as the unbearableness of being there. (The poetry of it was good for awhile but even that got old.)
Then he left. Found a willing doll. And there I was flat on my ass, with nothing, and everything.
I only regret now that I didn't set myself free, that I waited so long, had to be dumped, before I could endeavor to something way better.
I wasn't a good doll. Never would have been. Never will be. Not my bag.
H

maree...thanks for being a friend. for listening and for sharing. and for believing in me.

john...wake up call. yes

saw...i think i just got onto the wrong bus and the station where i get off is somewhere within the next few hundred miles. sometimes you just gotta be a little patient....i think. but it doesn't take away the hurt. thanks for the acknowledgement.

barry...thanks barry. time will tell what choices we both make in the future. all i know is that i gotta listen to my gut & then there are practical things to consider. but the wheels are turning.

jack...it's all cool. and yeah, freud would probably have a field day with me.

theda...it is exactly because i'm not a good doll anymore that this is getting more uncomfortable. it's funny how all my friends say "get out" and all my family say "be a good doll"...i think i'm getting to the point where leaving doesn't seem impossible anymore, just impractical (for now). thank you for sharing that. this is me giving you a big fat hug.

walt...you are right about me having many friends here who loves me (on whatever level). i am extremely grateful for that. do i love myself? that's a tough question and you are right about my answer being sometimes, yes and sometimes no. this reminds me of the quote on the cover of one of oriah mountain dreamer's books, "why is the question not why am i so infrequently the person i really want to be, but why do i so infrequently want to be the person i really am?" i think all of us struggle with that. and most certainly with the definition of love. or what we want love to be. or even how to really love. about judgment of soul. i told maree that the statement i made, the "how can you deny me my soul" was probably a little dramatic, but given the emotional state i was in and the fact that i know who i am deep deep inside, inside my soul and he's constantly saying it aint so or it's not enough or it's wrong…that felt like denial of my soul. and what makes it doubly sad to me is that he doesn't even know how deeply that cuts. i understand what you're saying though. it all starts with me. thanks for caring enough to knock.

I can't say that I love you, but I can say I find your poems very interesting. I just worry about respecting your space here and not intruding. I count on Doreen and my other friends here to keep me in line. It is a brave thing to share your poetry with others.

You said once that you like my multiple replies but you used a winky. I am pretty autistic about emoticons.

anyhow I wrote this in reply to your comment about Freud.

News To Me

Maybe interesting was not a good word to describe how I feel about your poetry.

your poetry is full of self knowledge.

I am a sucker for that.

I have read that human behavior is over determined. Many motives for writing, but the quest for self knowledge must be part of it.



well there it is
another multiple reply