Her mind is confused.
Her thoughts bubble up from unconscious literature,
written in dreams.
Her ideals, a compilation of
conflicting truths.
Her heart pumps red,
squeezing drops through
the constricting black membrane
of rage.
She drinks from the well of insanity,
smiling to hide the riddle inside.
She remembers,
a movie made for one.
She is guided by the reflection of wishes,
made in haste
from users.
She is terminally heartbroken.
I feel sick, a storm is gathering inside, with
winds that stir a tsunami of bile and shame.
I analyze my regrets until they are thread bare,
hoping that they will disintegrate.
I am not who they want me to be.
I run,
looking back.
We became a product of our environment.
We will always be alone,
tormented with blame.
We are daughter, sister, mother, wife.
We never had a chance.
Me, myself and I,
stillborn.
Photo Credit: origami joel Flickr via Compfight cc
Julie Anderson
Julie Anderson is the Creator and Publisher of Feminine Collective. Julie was inspired to create this safe place for women to share their secrets, desires, triumphs and pain as the antithesis of what mainstream media offers women today. In her column Pursuit of Perfection, she explores the importance of rectifying the balance of inner and outer beauty through essays, poems and articles on self-esteem, shame, family, and self- acceptance.
A dark day on Julie’s horizon….Now I shall worry about you!
Love you, in darkness and in light..
S xo
Love love love your dark. I understand everything you write…
A hauntingly beautiful write, J. you paint shades of grey with the brightest touch. These are powerful words. Well done.