Pain and Heartbreak are My Bedfellows | Poetry
Poetry from August and September, part II
And some more poetry. Check out part I here.
Untitled
Written August 26
I met the mountain for sunrise. Breathy and faint, Emotionally distraught. Heartbroken. Shattered. Angry. I want to scream and cry. No expression is enough to lift the weight of my despair. The sun slowly crests over the four peaks. I gaze, Asking for guidance, Begging to carry some of this weight. It’s a new day, And yet, It intrinsically feels like the end. I’m sinking. I want to be buried under this mountain, I can’t stand to live. What is the point of it all? … Sedona swimming hole, Sweaty and sunburned. Hot intensity akin to hell. I’ve been losing an alarming amount of hair. I wish I could write out all my sorrows… But I simply don’t have capacity, To feel deeply, Intensity has always been my friend. When I’m in it, I’m in it. Discovery in the moment. Sweet detachment favors Pure being, Void of self. Blurred lines And blurry eyes. And when I come out, I’m no longer me. Just an outsider looking in On a pure moment of Being. I am unknown to myself. Feelings. Desires. Thoughts. Who am I? Locked away, Inaccessible. Off limits. A shadow of my own life. Emptiness. And back to detachment. The wall between me and me Is twice as thick As the wall between me and you. Outside looking in. Lost in translation. Removed from it all. Experiencing. Emotions? Massive waves collapsing. Thoughts? Ethereal eulogies. Desires? Discontentment from now. Communicating. I try to let people in. How can you know me, If I don’t even know myself? Language is a sad excuse For experience. Always one or the other. Welcome back to the void To feel the intensity Is different than communicating the experience.
Feminine Nature
Written August 27
If you don’t open your heart, We don’t have a chance. Be patient for greater fruits to grow. To turn a blind eye Is to close off from cosmic nudges. You want the fullness of the feminine, And yet, you stuck me in the masculine role. I can do my best to keep us structured, But I need you to hold the masculine pole. Where are you asking me to step up for you? In place of you taking action To grow… To become the expert… Because you don’t believe you can? Where can I hold the internal balance, And where can I trust The masculine to take the lead? I’m hurt over and over The small things becoming the big things. Methodically sharpening the knives Stabbing at my tender and raw heart. Tides of emotion. Disregulation. I jump off the cliff, Worst case scenario waiting for its sweet embrace. And yet, my heart must remain open. A great life lesson, Forced to viscerally experience And learn. This is the feminine nature. Surrender to the pain of heartbreak For greater ecstasy in love. Because if I don’t surrender, I am refusing to feel the depth of life. I try to let my walls down, Vulnerability can’t be met with a lack of presence. How many bids for connection Is my heart willing to give unreceived? Making love to a brick wall, Self-consumed cinderblock. Two can play at detachment. Now rage is at home in the feminine, And I feel so much anger. Why aren’t you even trying? Where is your curious exploration into my soul? How can you expect me to be the awe-inspiring feminine, When you aren’t even trying to penetrate? Not knowing how to steer this ship alone, Overstimulated with emotion. And I am left alone with it all once again. Alone, and so lonely. Bite my tongue, Or share these words. I don’t want to come off as annoying, But I am needy. I need you. I need to be seen and held. I need to be loved. And I fear that all this will be too much That I am too much and not enough, Simultaneously. And the effort isn’t worth it. If not now, then when? Choose To walk through the fire, Together, Or alone. And the pattern repeats.
With love,
Madison