Wednesday, June 8, 2011


Im feeling mean,
spiteful and caught up in a treason filled dream
where so-called friends tip off the enemy
and exchange whispers of my shitty personality.
Overwhelmed and paranoid,
while I whittle my stock down to crumbs
to sort through
shiny gems
tumbled stones
and plastic bits of bitches
that keep you close to observe,
instead of love.
I’m uncut and jagged
it takes the investment of time to reveal my luster
I may not be eager to spill my beans to make you feel comfortable.
And you mistake that for arrogance,
a guarded snotty façade
in which you are being judged.
The truth is...
I am prudent with women,
I learned early how to tiptoe,
strategically assess moods, vibes and intents.
Easily broken,
I love genuinely and deeply.
I am unable to casually connect.
The truth is…
I prefer the loyalty of men
Where discretion is valued,
Ripping yourself open is not.
The truth is…
I shouldn’t care if you like me
I should know that its your loss,
And leave it alone
Because to you,
A stone is just a stone.

This past year, my daughter has been going to this cooperative nursery school for 2.5 hours a day, 2 days a week. The parents "co-op" a few times a month, where they are in the class room helping the teachers, cleaning and such. You also have to participate as a member, serving on committees, events, etc. Its a great school, a great idea and I love the kids. The parents...not so much. I haven't felt this "unliked" since high school. I am a generally warm person, always trying to put others at ease, but I don't put myself out there much. Im not always comfortable with new people, but don't usually have trouble, but like I have the word BITCH written on my forehead. And the only reason it really bothers me, is because it involves my child. I don't get it...really.

Regardless, I signed up for next year (because Inara loves it!). Maybe I need a mantra to keep me lifted out of the bullshit :)


  1. Um belo poema, apesar da dureza das palavras.
    Um relato emocionado.