Paper Doll

I’m just a doll

Cut and trimmed just right

You’ll want to put me in your pocket

Not to keep me safe

But to hide me away

Where I’ll stay a secret
I’m just a doll cut from white paper

One out of many

My thoughts aren’t worth a penny

I wasn’t created to feel

After all I’m not real
I’m a paper doll with a paper heart living in a paper town with paper people

No blood courses through my veins

You think I feel no pain

You don’t know I’ve been crumpled up

Thrown away when I won’t play in the puppet show
Caught by a new game

It’s always the same

Be careful

One more tug on my paper heart

I may tear apart

After all I’m just a paper doll 

 

Fear

I like most people am afraid.

It feels good to let that realization out of my system so I don’t have to carry it around with me and pretend like I don’t have this ever present fear dwelling inside of me.

What am I afraid of you may wonder? I have just finished my first college class–it was an easy class, but now I am moving on to Intro to Psychology and Intro to Creative Writing. I am afraid that I am not smart enough to pass these classes. I am afraid that I don’t have enough time. I am afraid that I will build my hopes up and let myself think I am smart enough to earn a bachelor’s degree in English and creative writing only to fail. I am afraid to try. Mostly I am afraid of being great and also of not being great. It seems pretty insane when I write it down this way, but it is possible to want something so bad and yet not want it at all. I wish one day to write important things, grand things, things that may change someone’s life the way my life was changed by words. It feels so terrible and wonderful to know that we are not alone in this world. There are dreamers, thinkers, doers, and creators in this world. Perhaps they were all once afraid to try. I’m certain all of the great poets, writers, and authors were once rejected and torn down by every shut door and every no they ever heard. They did not let that fear keep them away. They did not let that fear extinguish their fire. No they did not let fear of rejection get to them. For they had a need to write down and share the words that spiraled in their minds waking and sleeping. If Oscar Wilde, F. Scott Fitzgerald, or Jane Austen are anything like me the unwritten words inside their heads would make them truly go insane.

I can’t keep my creativity hidden away. I won’t let the fear get to me. There are important things to be done in each person’s life for we are all given gifts, and what is a gift if we cannot share the joy of that gift with others. I was afraid to start this very blog. I thought no one would read it or care about the words I had so carefully written. For the most part I get a couple of likes and views here and there, and for now it is enough. It is more than what I thought I’d get and I appreciate each and every person that takes the time to read the work I share. What kept me going when I wanted to quit this blog was a simple comment on one of my poems titled “Bulletproof”. The lady commented and said it was just what she needed. That is all it took for me to want to keep blogging. I like the thought that something I write may be what someone needs to be encouraged, or to at least not feel so alone in that present moment in time.

I will go to school. I will learn more about writing. I will be afraid, but I will never let that fear keep me from trying or doing something I love.

Futile feelings

I should have read the contract
I should have read between the lines of your lies
Now you’ve caught me
Now I’m stuck
No way out of this maze
I should have read the contract
Then I would see you didn’t want me for who I am
You want me for what I have
If I read the contract I would know that love doesn’t belong here
Feelings are futile
I would’ve known to turn my back and run in the other direction
I’m sure it makes you happy
I’m sure you laugh with satisfaction
Knowing that you’ve stripped me down
Knowing that you’ve got me runnin’ in circles
Around and around

Tiny Towns

Looking out of the aircraft window at night I marvel at all the tiny lights that make up the tiny towns below. In between the pockets of brightness looms the shadows in between. Every place I fly over is different. Leaving LA is a spectacular sight of glowing colors and tangled streets. All roads leading somewhere, anywhere. Other unknown towns I pass on my journey in the sky have lights strewn far and few between, darkness more prevalent than the light. I am the little town, mostly full of darkness with patches of light, enough to illuminate some of the blackness within. Sometimes the lights burn out and dim, no one can tell from far away. Through the tiny window in a plane I observe the impossibly small world below. So tighty and everything in order. Everything always looks better from far away. That way no one can see what hides in the crevices, no one can see the chaos in the states, counties, or cities. From up here all I know is that time is suspended, on pause for a moment while life spins round down on the ground below. 

Sometimes I want to stay in the sky never to land. Avoiding life and the weight of the unknown. I feel safe here, away from the craziness of the ant colony, us humans call home. 

Museum inspired writing 

I leave tonight, half past midnight. I will get on a boat. I will float away into the dark horizon. I shall never return, I will never step foot in this place again. Everyone sees me as a wicked girl. Selfish, is what my family would say. I don’t do what they want. I can’t live as a phony. I won’t be put together like the other girls. I won’t curtsy and smile to hide the pain. I sure as hell will not marry to unite my family with that of a cold blooded murderer. 
The villagers say it was an accident. The constable reported he tripped and fell off that bridge and banged his head. I know what really happened that night, and what happened was no accident. I will find who did this and avenge my fathers death. 
I needed a ticket out, for a women cannot leave even if she has a passport if she is not in the company of a man to protect her. I found someone to lead me through the city, and escape the borders of this place. I had to lie. I could not tell my lifelong friend, who loved me more than I loved he, what was really going on. I told him I was expecting a child, and that before I was to marry that summer I had to get rid of it. I knew he would comply for fear of telling and being accused of associating with a wretch like me. Or worse people may think he was the father. What a disgrace that’d be? A prominent future lawyer expecting a bastard child with a whore. Although he really need not worry since none of what I said to him was true. I felt a slight tinge of guilt, but my anger overpowered me. I would have done whatever it took to seek vengeance for my father, my first love. 

   
Tonight we sail away, hand in hand. I’ll be disguised in grandiose clothing that William stole from his eldest sister, complete with a mask to make sure no one recognizes me. We will look like a regular couple leaving a ball to take a stroll on the bay, intoxicated with young love. The perfect plan for the perfect escape. 

Allow me

Allow me to be me

Don’t change me

Re-arranging my characteristics

To make me idealistic

I am not a dream

I never promised eternal sunshine

Sometimes it will rain

Love is pain

Avoid the urge to jump ship at the slightest hint of rough tides

I am not easy

I know this is true

But I’m worth your best chance

Worth every trial

Stay for a while

Be the opposite of me

Make up for the things I lack

One half of a whole

Love the darkest corners of my soul

Allow me to be me

Allow me to sit quietly in my library and read

I don’t need much attention

I just need you to be present

Show up when it’s important

And hug me when I cry

Love me with all my idiosyncrasies

Tell me everything will be okay but never lie

Listen to the stories I tell while we lay in bed on Sunday morning

Get to know my mind

Be kind when I panic in a crowd

Or get startled when it’s too loud

I will never be neat and tidy

My mind is a mess, a tangled up map that leads nowhere

All I can do is swear I’ll love you and never give up

If you allow me to be me