Her Reality by heartnsoul
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Description
She tosses between her days and nights the same way she sleeps.
Her days:
She reaches deep in her pocket wanting to feel something soft.
For a brief moment her heart feels a twinge of warmth,
hoping she will have something warm and soft to rely on
Slowly opening her hand only to find a wad of used tissue
With a self-deprecating chuckle she mutters,
"How so friggin appropriate, how so...me!"
Other days she doesn't even bother,
knowing what's in there
"Nothing! How so...me!"
Her nights:
Moments after dusk she turns on the bathroom light,
goes to the mirror, then begins to make up her face
She doesn't really look in the mirror anymore
The last time she looked it was the first time
She saw her twin, watermarked from the rain
It was also the first time she played the game
She notices her movements have become "robotic".
Yeah, she likes that word, adding it to her word game.
"Metal, cold, hard, vacant, soulless" Suddenly,
interrupting her game, "makeup, more makeup dollface"
It takes more to erase the watermarks these days
Words like soft, warm, never find their way into the game
Putting down the brush she looks one last time
Ending the game with the first word it began with
Counterfeit.
Her sleep:
She makes her way to the bedroom
Looks down at the child fast asleep in her bed
Climbs on top of the covers and snuggles next to her twin
There are always covers between them, her and her twin
She pulls the covers up over her shoulders
"Can't touch her, don't want to taint her."
Words like innocent, doll face raw, exposed, pain
play in her mind as she drifts off to...
Sleep, if that's what you call it.
Comments (8)
heartnsoul
This was a comment I had made to a fellow poets poem about a young prostitue. Unfortunately I can't post that. The poem was raw, edgy and powerful. I decided to keep my comment. I think this makes a good begining to a story..but where to take it..well.....that I haven't decided yet.
davidoblad
She either needs to learn how to market herself better or needs to ask the right person for help. Despite her jaded outlook, not everyone is a complete fart. Many will respond, because they are simply good people. A Cinderella ending isn't always out of reach. It's never hopeless except for the hopeless. A bit dark and moody but this story could have a happy ending. If she truly wants it bad enough and seeks out the right person, all things are possible. Very interesting piece here Michelle. Very well written. Bravo and Hugs from Dave :^)
heartnsoul
Dave~ You're right to a degree, but the reality is that for some, despite their best efforts it just doesn't seem to be the grand plan for them. Stuff happens to good people for no apparent reason at all. Some of us have are better equipped and adept at finding the lesson to be learned. There are those of us who have no support system at all and that makes the struggle just that much harder. I don't usually comment on a poem in this manner, but this is what I envisioned as I read the poem. I can't even leave the link to the poem here because the site just upgraded and took with it all of our bookmarks. But I can promise you one thing, had I been able to and you read it. You would have felt like someone just punched you in the solar plexis! I was glad that at the time I kept my comment, as I thought at the time there is something that I can do with this, and somehow wanted to use the initial poem(with permission of course) as the opening. But the more I look at this the more I see, this is a great way to open the story as is. Much different than what most would expect. Thank you for comment...and thanks again for letting me know the feeling...iwanted moody and dark....wasn't sure if it came across that way....
DennisReed
So powerful Michlle! WOW! Has my neurons buzzin'! Indeed, this could be the begining of a book! Of course many of us would want it to end Happily! Enough of reality where it does not! :( Bravo!
Silkylady
I must be one of the most luckiest people in the world. I've had up days and not so up days, but never ALWAYS negative or downers. I sometimes need some help from some others, and never too proud to ask. That help only brought us closer together in many ways. I guess, the good people seem to always come through, and are truly caring. Nothing phony about them in any way. Those people you love forever and always. I love this story, but I think I would like an ending that would make me feel happy. Huggs...Silkylady...
mamabobbijo
It seems dark at first blush, but the way she keeps the child safe from the taint of reality makes me think she believes in faerie tales. If she believes perhaps she can write her own. The struggle for the right words and the ending, whatever form that takes would be a touching story to read. Thanks for sharing. BJ
meico
"Nothing phony" just about sums up the poem too. It is an authentic piece of life from the cutting room floor, beautifully paced and totally without mawkinshness. I can relate to her and readily empathise. Favourite. Mike
romanceworks
Harsh reality has her in e shadow of darkness and yet she feels so deeply, which means she cares as deeply, and where there is that much pain there is also the possibility and perhaps fantasy of feeling hope. That is what your poem said to me. CC