I started committing various suicides
in my various dreams as a 1st grader.
what kind of child was only allowed
To keep tears and bruise to herself..

I started jumping down from agitated skyscrapers
in my agitated dreams as a relentless crusader.
what kind of crusader pursued virtual death 
with such unwavering passion and obsession..

Sometimes I pronounced my name wrong vehemently,
When memories made darker demands than my own,
As if I’d been mutilated by the worst maternal demon,
With her beauty and love brief and violent,
like that masterfully braided hair strangling  
around my neck, holding a defenseless hostage.

Perhaps, Death was not to fear,
but Love was.
Tears, I can bear,
but to face a wounded self,
is to mourn an unlived life.

Posted by:Annabel

Just a woman who writes her heart out, unapologetically……

8 replies on “Unnamed Selfie

    1. Such a moving and poignant piece Annabel. Powerful in how it bares itself and memory, and graceful in how it weaves each vivid image together. The final stanza I must admit left me utterly moved. A powerful evocative finish that weaves the poem together. There’s deep wisdom there that resonated and one that I shall ponder on. The more I read about you the more I come to be moved and respect the journey that you have been through and the journey you continue.
      Wishing you well ☀️🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Very kind of your comments, Nelson! I appreciate your warm words.😃

        And no doubt that it’s not never easy to bare oneself and those memories. But if one wishes to hide the hearts, then why even write poems?!😅🤪

        I loved the quote from D.H Lawrence, ‘if they tell the truth, I won’t even write!’ 😄😬

        Thank YOU for witnessing and appreciating this journey of mine!🥂🥳

        Like

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