To The Once Ingénue

Lone Tree - Rachel Schneider

Medium: 

Calligraphy pens on paper

Stuck in July

It hits me as I see your face

smiling bright from the photograph,

green eyes shining, blond hair

brushed perfectly to the side.

I resent you for giving up on me.

I always thought things

you would come back.

You and me, together, for better

or worse.

This is worse, but we are not together.

Did you forget that you are the love of my life?

I meant it when I said it then. I mean it now.

I see your smile and I feel

the love and I resent you

for giving up so soon.

I wanted so badly to be yours.

I thought you wanted me badly too.

I guess our want was not enough.

Tentative Tango

One, an unfamiliar smile

I don’t know how to understand.

Fingertips brush my waist, hem

of shirt, pale skin untouched

by sun. Hot breath on my ear,

body to body. Hand resting

in the small of my back. I want to

not want you as much as I do.

Two, palm runs down my side

breast to thigh. Breathe your sharp

scent. Gasp for forgiveness. Push

away, pull me close, make me

melt into seductive warmth.

Mold to match your form.

I am in over my head, and I

like not being able to breathe.

Three, tempo moves too fast,

past the barrier that was your

car door. Pressed to you,

horizontal, clothing optional.

I can’t keep up with four/four time.

Wonder if Eve knew what she

was getting into. Did she know

fear before the fruit?

Four, I can’t understand myself.

Fear, frustration, desire, despair,

give me room to breathe, I’m not

ready to go without air, not ready

to take that bite, not ready to

want you. My skin aches as you

pull away, disappointed. I guess

I don’t know how to dance.

Beauty from the Beast

Sadness was my gut reaction

when I saw her picture in your wallet.

She: more beautiful than me,

eyes brighter than mine,

her smile sweet, pure honey.

But behind my sadness came joy.

Joy that you have someone so beautiful,

someone to love and to love you

as once upon a time I did.  What we became was

ugly, but it taught us life. We were not a waste.

But as our beautiful flowers bloomed,

we came to see we could not share the sun.

Our petals grew shriveled and brown,

choked by the harsh sting of broken promises,

of life and truth, and what is not meant to be.

He is now my light, and she is now your fire,

and as we grow apart we will grow closer to them,

and they will and lift us up toward the sun, and

we will be alive. Apart, we will grow to be

the beauty that we now know we can be.

Worst

You ask why I always

Assume the worst

And I tell you that

If I assume the worst

I can’t be disappointed.

But the truth is, I always

Assume the worst

Because all I want

Is for you to tell me

Just how wrong I am.

The Tortoise Loves the Hare

Friend, Don’t tell me how to run my race.

Just because you can’t reach

the finish line doesn’t mean

I have to stall in second place,

slinking in your shadow

since you “know what’s best

for me.”

I stand on my own feet,

I run to who I choose.

I will dance, I will fly, even

if I pass you by. Keep up

or I’ll leave you in the dust.

The Boy That Never Was

There’s a candle in my window for

the boy who never was.

It flickers just as brightly as

the laughter in his eyes. The warmth

inside his heart is matched by nothing

but the flame, and the tiny drips

of melted wax, intricate as his mind.

The candle burns to mourn this boy,

the one I could have loved.

He may have lived - this boy, indeed.

But mine he never was.

Breaking Modus Operandi

Mother, I will not ask if you think

he is good for me. Did you know

that before I met him I was, in fact,

unhappy? Shall I listen to Polaris

to find my way north, find my way home?

The scent of rain wafts so sweet, wafts

so gentle wafts so cold. I will

not even mention how your mate

has devoured you, drowned you in lust.

Are you truly loved? Are you lonely?

Have your prayers been answered?

I have been upset by passing time and

pain and heartbreak and ceaseless rain.

I too have been devoured by false loves.

But now he sings softly in my ear

“I feel that when I’m old I’ll look at you

and know the world was beautiful.”

Mother, whatever you may say,

today the lovely sky is blue, the lovely clouds

are white, and the lovely breeze is cool.

Forward, The Only Way to Go

Rusty white with a big blue stripe,

the old pickup, a pick-me-up

in the shape of a flatbed truck.

He drives fast with the music blasting,

windows cranked down because the AC never works,

or maybe just to share his music with the world.

His voice pours out the window to the beat of a drum

as the pounding music rocks and swells

and brings the old radio back to life.

It’s an adrenaline rush, that old white truck,

and the driver inside. Four wheels, one heart,

flying on a song down the old dirt road.

With the blood of a cousin, the heart

of a friend, a protector, a brother, a guardian.

Wings hidden beneath thick skin, or rusty white paint.

The heart of freedom, a crazy heart.

A heart with no direction, a truck with no map.

Windows open, open heart.