Poetry revisited

A lot of this is post-divorce detritus, but I like the rawness of it...

I'm doing the best that I can
but
I always thought
my best was better than this

I'm doing the best that I can
is a choking
engulfing sentiment
covering
so completely
that I can barely move

I'm doing the best that I can
so helpless
and weak
and tired
Can I just hit snooze
one more time
and close my eyes
on today



a night out with the girls

talking loudly
over drinks
about a cloak-and-dagger
dream
with great sex
i had last nite
laughing out loud
so hard
i think
i just might
pee my pants
being understood
with just a look
and a nod
at the woman
in the leopard-print
mini
with ruffles
who just walked in the door
and is waiting
to be seated



Why
does she give life a cold shoulder
and
play dumb when it really matters
Acting like she's got it all together
walking with confidence
and a sway to her hips
Poised on patent stilleto heels
that pound on the hearts
of those who follow too closely
and echo
eerily
down an adandoned, damp alley
that
smells of urine and decay
and
has no end
or outlet



One cold afternoon
she played in the city
and her dress
was stark red
against the icy sky
and his lips
were teasing and warm




It seems
as if
we are in orbit
of one another--
at once
unsure and familiar.
Staying in proximity
but
not too close--
unwilling
to sever the connection



Do we ever really see
the mark we leave on someone else?
The damage done
The pain inflicted
A promise that's broken
like a carelessly dropped wine glass
Shattering sharp and dangerous--
spilling red stain over all that it touches
And sometimes--
Sometimes
that mark is a badge of honor
A sign worn proudly
displayed boldly
In defiance
and in rage
and
in survival



Somewhere
I got confused
and lost my way
in the maze
of all the people
I play
And
I used to think
I found a glimpse
of purity
in the reflection
shining from your eyes
But
now your eyes
no longer look at me
and it's hard for me
to remember
the last time
they really did




It scares me
to watch you walk away
and not look back at me

To pass on the street
and not recognize your soul
until you've just passed--
and can't hear my call

To listen to your voice
but only hear a stranger's

And I can't seem to shake
this feeling of nearly-waking,
as if life has been a dream
or a dream has been my life

And the cobwebs over my eyes
just can't be cleared away



When the children leave
and I'm left with more than
an idea
of alone
I want to crawl out of my skin
and I don't know what to do
And I wish
I could turn myself
inside out
and make everything different



So
I have to find
a picture
of me
somewhere in this pile
of
mommy
and
boss
and
friend
And clean out the parts
that no longer belong
like
wife
and
lover
and store them away
for
safekeeping