blunt force trauma

blunt force trauma

Why do I grieve in the wake and the language of dreams?

My images do not reveal the world.

They are memories; I am scarred

By the words let loose and unfurled.

Though why should I grieve, night time thoughts will disappear.

My hurts will linger but for however long it’s hard to say

Not because I am special, unique or spectacular

Just lacking distinction and revealing dismay.

If I should grieve, what good would it do?

No matter how many books I read,

I am me and you are you.

No need for flower gardens planted with one seed.

Like Professor Higgins and Colonel Pickering,

Eliza’s country girl’s charm failed your tests.

We would’ve never made it for all the dickering.

Maybe next dame will carry tune that keeps you interested.

“The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain!”

A fair lady I am not.

Nothing new I am afraid,

If I am anything, I am insane.

So no need to grieve on this day or the next

Because no matter how hard I try

I’ll never pass your tests

And while I’m stronger, tears I will cry

And if I could change my sensitive sensibilities,

So I could meet your ever-growing expectations,

Nothing would change the real you I have seen:

The things you called me created a great awakening.

Maybe you were tired and sleep-deprived.

You really did not mean to be cruel and incredibly snide,

But you promoted yourself as a spiritual guide -

one who is cool, calm and on my side.

Of course, I should have remembered times before

When people came into my life liking me for me

Only to learn later that could only be

If I changed into the vision they devised for me.