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62. Magic

And when she walked
right past me
I knew our magic
had worn off.

64. Multitasking

You can break a heart
while trying to save it.

Multitasking
has left me
incoherent
and doubting.

He said “It’s just a phase.”

I want him to understand
I am not a phase.

I am a human being with
thoughts,
feelings,
and emotions.

He cannot just
let go.

“Hello
my name is indifference
but you can call me
a man
with too much time on his hands.”

The locks are turning
and I don’t think he’s bringing
me along.

He’s got the key
and I can’t find the spare.

History
can be erased
by an opening of the right mouth.

He said “What’s the point?”

The point is
I’m not a puppet
you can toss away
whenever I lack clarity
or purpose.

Do not
wave your fingers like that
as they are the same fingerprints
that held me down
when I begged for more.

__________________
Author's Comments

In order to play the game well, you have to multitask.
However, pay attention to every move or you won't be prepared for your sinking ship.

66. Traps

I could repeat his final words but I fear it would end me.

And if a man
cannot stand
on his own two feet,
surely he could find a woman
who would help him limp
to his destination.

I was not his equal;
just a bandage
until his wounds healed
and my purpose diminished.

I filled his heart
with lines he will use
for future lovers;
in order
to restrict them to closed spaces.

My lips (still drenched in honey)
stick together,
when I try to warn a little girl
the dangers of playing
with freight trains.

_________________
Author's Comments

He was a trap.

68. Hero.

On a day spent peeling dead skin back,
I managed to run into a lost hero.
She had become fragments
and not as I remembered her.
But eyes locked,
memories triggered
and recognition glared right at me.

And, as if aware of past mistakes
she didn’t hide.
Instead, she waited
for my yearning to make changes.

With heavy eyes she fell asleep,
while I’m still awake and plotting.

70. 67%


Persephone
count your pomegranate seeds
as I take you under.

Earth’s crumbling
while we’re hiding
behind a symphony.

Hades has sent a ghost
to follow
our mountain slide.

He lurks in shadows
as our candle
begins to fade out.

Acheron
has made its way
into my veins.

I’m wearing
blackberry stains
on a heavy heart.

Charon
hold your tongue
I’ve got my fee.

_______________________________________

Author's Comments

----

Persephone came calling to me tonight, so I let her speak.
She forced certain words out of me.
She seems to be following me on my way down.

---

My old therapist used to use this feeling chart where you would rate how you feel on a scale of 10-100%.
(She didn’t let you go below 10 because she wanted you to feel like things could actually be worse.) Anyways, that is the basis of this poem.

---

You will not properly understand this unless you know about the myth of Persephone and Hades (the place and the man.)

72. Mischief Managed

The High Priestess assured me it was safe to jump off the cliff. The leaves we landed on kept track of our trail as we made our way through the jungle. Once again, she told me it was safe as we met the crashing sea. I told her I couldn’t swim and she said, “all women are born with fins.” We dove in and the echoes from above immediately drowned. Nuns surrounded us as we made our way to the bottom. The seashells formed an arrow and we followed their directions.

The caves were not welcoming but her hand led me inside. My eyes attempted to adjust but I was quickly informed that no, this wasn’t an illusion. Standing around and wrapped up in their own heads were the women we’ve all been. Kali, Persephone, Demeter, Medusa, Guinevere, Lucretia, the list goes on. Glances were not exchanged as Medusa whispered, “just another one for His belt.” I turned around and jumped back into the sea. Quickly, those women had become the most intolerable of Beings.

Floating, I heard her tears coming from another cave. They were like an avalanche and impossible to ignore. As she kissed his face, his crown of thorns pierced her cheek. And with blood, she said goodbye as his followers grabbed her by the arms and shoved her off the edge.

The High Priestess and I grabbed her and led her towards the cave we had just recently left. Demeter noticed her growing stomach and said “It’s time for you to go.” We jumped on top of the white horse and made our way towards the sun. We stormed through the jungle and ended up in a small town. We learned innocence was non-existent in this place and quickly exchanged our veils of white for black. Mary was not comfortable with all those free hands and she urged me to return to the sea. On our way home we passed twelve men whose glare could be felt for miles.

Back in the cave, the bodies around us were uneasy. Kali pointed to the wall and a phrase was there that I had not seen before. “Punish us not for what we do, as we were driven by men.” And at the closing of my mouth, they appeared. Led by Peter, the twelve men stormed towards Mary. Nobody else moved, as if they were all paralyzed. The followers left as quickly as they came. Her blood turned the sea Red.

Hearing her cries and tasting her sorrow, He appeared. He guaranteed her the seed had not been destroyed but in order for things to remain that way, she had to flee. Mary looked over to me and I nodded. A silent agreement had been made. We got back on the white horse and began our journey. Entering the jungle, I heard what sounded like a stampede behind us. Turning for a quick glance, I saw everyone who had been in that cave upon a white horse and following us towards France.

_______________________________________________

Author's Comments:

---

During meditation, I went on a journey.

These women are my friends and many times they have kept watch over me when circumstances were not kind.

It's about the female bond and how it cannot be broken.

Most likely, you will need to know the (true) story of the Magdalene in order to understand this fully.

74. Are You Challenging Me?

Eshana, I’m getting tired
of your defenses.

I patiently waited
while you dug your way
into his heart.

He changed his flavour
so you invited me in.

(I’m always at your ******** doorstep)

This is not a game
of Red Rover
you cannot keep
calling me over.

The threads were never
as tight as you thought.

________________________________________

Author's Comments:

---

A long silence can cause an eruption.