Cold One

I’m not an emotional type of person

so when it comes to making decisions

I always use my head.

I guess it’s fair to say that after all the

numbing I’ve done all these years,

my heart froze due to the cold

I myself have put it through.

Those around me sometimes wonder

if I am even capable of feeling things,

such as love.

Somehow they always seem to manage

seeing through the ice glass surrounding

this heart of mine,

that what exist within is merely

anger and rage.

I don’t have to say a word

because even when I have on the biggest smile

or manage looking like the happiest

living being alive, my aura says otherwise.

Don’t get me wrong….

I am capable of love,

but it’s quite different from your point of view.

You see,

the kind of love I am capable of giving

won’t keep you warm,

it won’t fill in gaps in your life either.

The kind of love I am capable of giving

is holding out my hand

along with a promise to never let go

until all is well.

I cannot give a piece of my heart,

not anymore –

there’s just too much missing pieces

that I have given freely in the past

only to have those who already had a piece

come back for more.

Leaving me shattered with no choice

but to save the remaining pieces for myself.

Don’t worry

in time this heart of mine shall heal

and I will no longer be referred to

as the Cold One.

Psalm 18:16

If I were to tell you a brief summary

of everything in life that I’ve been through,

I promise you’ll wonder

how I managed staying sane after all this time.

I didn’t face the hardships I’ve endured alone

 from the moment I was born,

I had help.

HE held my hand through the good times

and the bad,

making sure I always got back up

on my own two feet.

Mutual Silence

Mom came over earlier today

and picked me up so we can

have our mother-daughter

chit chat someplace serene.

What usually takes five minutes

felt like a one hour drive.

Breathing in the same heavy air

we were both exhaling inside the

car she decided to use.

Neither of us uttered a word,

and the silence surrounding us

felt like a punch in the gut

as it grew and occupied the rest of

the space between my mother and I.

I looked outside the window

through the passenger’s side,

amused by how fast it suddenly

went dark as the clouds covered

the sun completely.

It looked like it was going to rain…

No perhaps a storm,

which I found ironic.

It was as if the real world was

reflecting both my feelings and emotions

right in front of me.

Not a pretty sight, considering

the fact that the wind was

gushing furiously taking its toll

out on miniature trees next

to the sidewalk.

I wanted to melt the ice

and I was pretty certain that my mother

wanted the same exact thing.

Yet we remained quiet,

barely looking at each other

avoiding eye contact at all cost.

I should be used to this…

 

Torment

I scare myself sometimes. Due to all these thoughts forming inside my head. “That’s perfectly normal”, is what I’ve been told, but honestly I don’t think it is… Not when the voices are reminding you of what once was, what should have been forgotten, the past.

It seems so hunted, almost as if some ghoulish form of some sort is living inside of me causing me to take a trip down memory lane. Except instead of seeing the good memories, you’re face to face with the things you once hated. “Everyone had some trouble in their past, but such a long time has passed. Surely it’s forgotten.”

No. Wrong. See, when the past is not confronted or dealt with properly, it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life. One way or another, something will trigger it and you’ll eventually face what you thought you outran.