Blind Matters of the Heart

Though she smiles with cheer
Her eyes quiver in fear
For all adoration has flown
No longer do her sighs
Shadow his tries
To cover lies he has retold

This he knows so well
Though he says “don’t tell”
Her friends can see the indications
His bark loud as his bite
Marking her arms left and right
How long can her family stand to hold their patience

Her friends can see
She’s no longer joyously
The woman they once knew
She’s become his pawn
Forever drawn on
For the torment he’s drug her through

She willingly endures
For drunken hours
For she’s promised ‘til death does one part
These days, it ‘comes hard
To say that no one is charred
For such blind matters of the heart.

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Liar Liar

“Liar liar tongue of briar, watch your step, you’re playing with fire.”

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The Loan

Three summers past the loaning point, and you still have what I need.
Wish there was more I could say without giving in to greed.
Our meetings since forever ago have solely been face to phone,
A rendezvous I really wish didn’t weight my heart like a stone.
Two autumns past the loaning point and you still harbor what I need.
Still I watch the portraits of us, small and growing like weeds.
I keep to myself and embrace the hope I’ll hear your voice through the quiet
Of a house that’s no longer home without you stopping by it.
One winter past the loaning point and you still hold dear what I need,
A heart so foolish, set to warmth, in a hearth burnt with belief.
I look back now upon the sun I shunned throughout the many seasons,
and wonder why its warmth for me was gone to waste without reason.

Your loan was never an agreement written on papyrus or chiseled in stone,
Only the mere promise of boy to one day call me home.

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I’ve tried so hard to stay true to the person they want me to be
But that just isn’t the “who” I want the world to see
The years have gone by yet I’m unsure if anyone knows
How long can I mask the fallacies I’ve sown?

It’s like the mirror has two faces but which one do I see?
I want to be the gold they love but I’m just another pyrite piece
Fear is eating away at the gilded façade I’m keeping
Like a frightened child, the truth under the rug I continue sweeping

Maybe, one day, I will finally break free
And solve the mystery that is me

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How I Feel

I hate the way you make me feel,
Like I’m a prize or a piece of veal.
Is it really so hard to memorize,
That I’m no damsel, no man’s prize?
You say you know, then why do you butch,
My name by calling me “woman”, “chick”, and such?


I’d leave this be, but you must understand,
A boorish guy like you was never part of the plan.
Since the day, I first blushed in the prettiest of rose
Only it only seemed natural I made known.
I’ll settle for no man that treats me like clay
Throws me down and molds me to match his own way.


I’ll settle down the day my guinea pig grow wings
Because I know I’m worth more than you see.
I’ll never be a damsel, no man’s prize
And if it really is that so hard to memorize
I’ll put it in writing, ‘I’m no peace of veal’!
I am a girl! This is how I feel!

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Chocolate-Eyed Girl


Creator of art, keeper of fiction, culinarian among cooks
Who loves dancing in the rain, wilderness, and guys who know just what to say and those who don’t,
Who feels that everybody makes mistakes, that every that every right has a wrong and every wrong has a reason,
Who fears losing her true friendships,
Who, one day, wants her own Mr. Right-for-Me and epiphany into the world of love,
Tenant of an ever-alternating actuality and imagination,


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