Just a Girl Lost 2

Just a girl lost~ Here I share bits & pieces of me, in poetry, prose, music & posts from writers who inspire me.


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There Was a Boy ūüáļūüáł

WAR

There was a boy

He went to war

He fought with valor
He held the scars
He bled in silence
Behind black doors

I tried to heal
the broken parts

My light could not

invade his heart

and

though he’s gone

I love him still

There was a boy

I always will

©justagirllost2 

~

* AP photojournalist Horst Faas took this iconic photo on June 18, 1965, during the Vietnam War.

*I chose it for its haunting beauty & because the boy in the photo reminds me of a boy I once loved.

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Him


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my forever craves

WildGypsy

your touch

skin frenzy whispers

your words

balm honeyed dictions

collide blaze high

conflagration

i’m cured ~ i’m cursed

my new affliction

unleashed, i’m real

like a bird i fly

i soar ~ i feel

i’m electric love

in a paradise

of your words, your mind

you reveal my heart

every piece of you

crashes thru my veins

kamikaze lust

rapture calls my name

you’re the living blood

pumping thru my heart

you’re the only soul

my forever craves

~

©justagirllost2

*image ~ Ansuya by Keith Drosin


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Black holes and my heart are old friends

supermassive-black-hole

Funny how every time I’m feeling at peace, my mother can skin me alive and rip out my heart in a matter of moments.

Seems it’s the times I’m finally getting things together in my own heart, mind, soul and I’m doing the best I know knowing it’s ok and that God’s in control.

It’s like there is something inside of her that has this mission to annihilate me.

It’s a fact of life, no more no less. ¬†It is what it is. ¬†I love her, she loves me, but in completely different ways.

I can take the anger, I can’t take the contradiction. ¬†To have loved me more than life itself cannot mean except for the last ten years. ¬†I can’t even put any thing into words right now. ¬†My disappointment in her, me for letting ALL my wisdom and zen FLY out the window and take the bait and get crazy angry, ¬†my sadness at all of it is too raw. ¬†I can’t hide from it. ¬†I can’t, I won’t return to my old escapes. ¬†I have nothing to dull the pain.

I am trying to see what I can do to make myself better. ¬†That’s all I can do. ¬†I know there are so many lessons in it for me. ¬†At this moment clarity is such a new bitter pill to swallow. ¬†New ways to think, to change my thinking… a new kind of pain.

I just need to rest my heart and sit in stunned silence at what it truly means to trust in what is so easy to trust in when I’m at peace.

I’m empty of poetry

I’m empty of joy

just for today at least, maybe tomorrow

I hope not, I truly hope not

I’m just tired, so tired

I need to rest

~

©justagirllost2


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Alice Lost Again

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Poor Alice, you’ve always been more¬†feline than female.

Always inquisitive, when awake, just like Dinah your cat.

A pretty pet, curiouser & curiouser, always wanting

to taste¬†strange things & then¬†wishing you’d listened to reason.

~

Drinking poison & spewing nonsense,

until dizzy & spinning, ungrinning at the possibility

that impossibilities do not exist or happen as a fact.

~

Such a pretty, bloody trainwreck

painting white roses red

with the guard of playing card men

in a whirl of confusions

~

It wasn’t YOU, silly twit,

it’s isn’t YOU, nit nit wit

being adored

written about prettily for

~

If the shoes fits start wearing it

Not HER HIM or IT, it’s YOU YOU YOU

You’re the ONE always being¬†ignored

Such an arrogant twit TWIT twit 

go away go away,  just

get used to being laughed at

just your sad sad silly love scorned…

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for the Queen of Hearts

is HIS tart sweet

lyrical muse

forevermore

~ the end

©justagirllost2 

*top image, Photo by Valentin Perrin

*bottom image, from Pinterest, trying to find the source


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It Hurts

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~

It hurts

to be invisible

It’s death

to not exist

~

It hurts to be in shadows

unobserved, untouched,

unlived, unloved

It hurts more than

I care to admit

~

It hurts to see things

see truths,

see words, see clues

figure out whose who

who still matters

old and new

~

It hurts to be taunted

and tainted

by kindnesses paid to

poison pens

~

It hurts

to be alone

and afraid

Just me, just one

against the world

and those who hate

from without and within

my own home closes in

as wars rage against me,

but

I’ll never tell

them

~

It hurts

holding it all in

because

it must be done,

because

it just is what it is

~

It hurts to never cry

because

those tears

always, anyway

will simply

go unnoticed

unheld

unheard

dry away

like

every other day,

still…

it hurts

~

 

©justagirllost2  

 

*image~ painter’s arm
rebecca rebouche
treehouse, louisiana
november, 2012

In Vogue Italia.