Accessories…

This is about a problem many of us women find ourselves in. We somehow wind up in the relationships that we pour ourselves into and find we are the only ones pouring. It’s not about wanting love to drop everything, but it’s about respect and not feeling used. 

I am not a scarf

To drape around your neck 

Then the weather seems to bite

And you need to feel some warmth

I am not a hat

To tilt with a rakish nod 

When the occasion calls for  extra flare

And need to show some style 

I’m not an earring or a tie pin

A necklace or a ring

I’m not an accessory 

Meant to polish you up

Or add some interest to your life 

In the wardrobe of life

I want to be the pants 

That you won’t walk out the door without

The pajamas that snuggle you

When you are tired or feeling down

I want to be essential

So you are naked

Without me there 

Accessories are bullshit 

And I am more than bullshit 

  

Some slam poetry from 2019

 

Much better heard than read, like all spoken word verse tends to be:

Angry, tight thoughts

Tight throat

Tight lips

The silence slaps

It sneers

It taunts

And your depression

Like a cancer

Eats away at my peace

No. More.

The poverty of your

Lack of emotion

Lack of affection

Lack of sweet, tender words

Is an abyss that

Seeks to swallow me whole

Or crush me with the weight 

Of instability

It’s antimatter, babe

And it doesn’t exist in this universe

I won’t give it life in a flight of fantasy

Because happily ever after with you

Is so opposite from the reality

That darkens my door and 

Switches on a crazy mental loop

Where I ask am I of value, am I enough

What is my worth to you?

I won’t be an indirect object

Affected by your transitive verbiage
Until my joy gets eaten up by your abnormal cell division

And I get sucked into the black hole of being

An accessory

Not subject verb predicate

Damn that silence

I’m breaking it with the sound

Rhythmic freedom

Of my feet, my heart, my soul

Moving on

GEP 1/18/2019

In the poverty 

Of your attentions 

I discovered my wealth In the austerity 

 Of your affirmations 

I discovered those deepest riches 

All the things you would not give me 

That I can so freely share 

Your lack of verbal generosity 

Unwillingness to light a dim day 

Brighten a smile 

Or caress a bruised esteem 

I can see the gift now 

In my ability to see the need 

To pour out warmth 

To slather devotion 

And effuse an unmitigated joy 

In the beauties of another 

I am indeed rich 

And you, my dear, are so very very poor