The Harmony of Apathy
There is a misplacement in me
Sadness in a note
Love in a tone
Pain that no one else seems to feel
But where is the empathy?
Where is the sympathy?
Apathy.
I feel-
Little
I feel-
Silence
Or rather I feel-
Where Silence is meant to be
When words would have been
Better left unspoken
When you bare your soul
For the world to hear
Should you really be surprised
When they steal it?
Or melt it?
Or freeze it?
I feel the pain, the loss, the love
There – just now
In a note
A melody.
The Harmony
of Apathy.
Coffee
Coffee.
That’s what it feels like
Bitter, biting, and wonderful
There is comfort and familiarity
That does not lessen the burn
Warmth and Pain-
Of the most superficial variety
But there are deep currents
Deep and as yet unidentified-
Who knows what flavor will arise?
Match Girl
Little girl
Playing with fire
Spreading it all around her
All she knows
Is that it keeps her safe
And warm
But when it is gone
She shivers in the cold
Dreaming of the fire
Wishing it would return
Wishing it would spread
Little match girl
Lost in the cold.
***The only thing I wanted from my grandmother when she passed away was a doll. The little match girl sat in her living room for years, and now she is in my bedroom as a reminder. I named her Etterene…after my grandmother.
No One was Saved
I am Eleanor Rigby.
I come out of this world
A lonely person
Searching for love
Dreaming about that day.
I am a river.
Soft and sweet.
My embrace like cold needles
Carrying my dream away
Back to the lonely banks.
I am a smile.
I play on the lips
Of liars, saints, and lovers.
I come and I go
A sign that they are just barely getting by.
I am a secret.
Shared between friends,
Holding people together
Tearing others apart
Because no one keeps me to themselves.
I am Eleanor Rigby.
I keep faces in jars
Because my own face is the mask.
The river, the smile, the secret
are truth.
***I love allusions and I felt a sudden connection to Miss Rigby, so this is my tribute to her (as well as the four men who brought her into existence). I look forward to the day when I don’t feel like I’m turning into Eleanor and Father McKenzie any more.
Bones
Mistaken-
She tells me to put
my heart in a box.
She thinks the sight
pains me
but it doesn’t.
It confuses me.
I don’t understand
why these bleak and barren bones
make other people sad-
why it causes them pain.
Internal Battles
A war wages within every person, a battle of wits, strength, and will.
Turmoil fights to raze your heart, while serenity defends it eternally.
The internal balance of emotions all depends upon choices and mistakes.
Even though they fight each other, neither can survive without the other nor can one side win.
