As interlude of turmoil swerves
on my mind
leading me to reach for waning hours ,
there is a lull of evening's heave
grating within the ledge of isolation,
until gazing long enough
into darkness, I blink to recall
the revelries trapped in dried blossoms
of ardor now enmeshed ,entangled:
These haunting screams jut out
from a frame of hardened boughs
buried deep among frigid weeds-- and I wail,
stripping night's foliage of farewell
with knots of abandonment ...
and autumn loses its elegance,
those misted tears invading the glint
behind our past trysts --
that I learn how desolate this stained time
retreats when he fades away
like a ghastly ghost,
when the soul-stars dream and die...
knowing in fall's requiem,
I am no longer there.
I want to miss my kids
I want to see my hair no crumbs or cheese whiz
I want to enjoy healthy friendships
outings like camping and family things
me plus one for a change
I’m so tired of doing everything on my own
I’m always that single mom who’s alone
no partner, no man, just me,
Here I am
no other family, just a loner.
the judge me like a park perv with a *****
the way they look at me, like they pity me,
It was healthier than living with his violent mistakes
No sorry is good enough
When a man treats you worse than his stuff
Society sees a woman that can’t keep a man
They don’t see a woman strong enough to stand
Alone without allowing the disrespect to go on
Every carnival, every movie, every oil change, every bill I pay
Every flat tire every mile
every family photo a forced smile
the biggest lie ever sold
is too tell a woman she can have it all alone
she’s ripped apart shredded at each end
not knowing where she ends and the kids begin
night from day’
far from child's play
but something like a living nightmare
every lonely not long enough exhausted no rest day
The years have gone by
The scars never healed,
You still think you won
The fight on the field
Laughing and smiling
As I hit the ground,
With your fist in the air
I will not forget that sound
You beat me, bruised me
Hit my every nerve,
Now I hear you have gotten
Just what you deserve
To this day, I am grateful
To have ever known you,
Otherwise I might have been
The greatest bully, too.
I am tired of teaching you how to love me.
Tired of translating my heart into instructions.
"I forgot" — you forgot?
How do you forget someone waiting?
You say "sorry, I was in a hurry"
But you were never in a hurry to reach me.
I don't want a goodbye kiss because I asked for it.
I want the one you remembered to give.
©Maya Evans
21 September 2026
LIKE FLOWERS BLOOM
Each time she tried
They fell to their death
From the ledge of her lip
To lie by her heart
Where they endlessly stared
Helplessly mute
They would never draw breath
A sacrifice to
The will of her pride
The gardens she walked
The gates rusted locked
Like hair grown Unkempt
The Ivy wound wild
Behind her she knew
The grasses tall grew
A serpent kept watch
She cried as he smiled
She lay back and bared
Her throat, slim and fair
Her buttons, she loosed
Her breasts to the skies
Violet and blue
Like flowers bloom
Bruised
A testament to
Those secrets, survived
A shadow, the sun
But rain, there was none
Pain was something
She learned as a child
Same Roof
We shared a roof, a table, the same four walls,
and still I lived on the far side of a door
no one had thought to knock on.
Their voices filled the house each morning,
familiar as the kettle, the taps, the stairs,
and none of it ever reached me.
I was in the room. I was not seen.
You can stand in a doorway for years
and be furniture to the people you love.
They were meant to be the ones who knew me
before I knew myself,
who could read the weather in my face.
Instead I learned to fold my heart small,
to keep it in a pocket
where no one would ask what it weighed.
I have grieved the things that happened.
That grief has edges. It has names and dates.
The other grief has none.
It is the hush where the conversation should have been,
the hand that never reached across,
the people I sat beside for years
and never met.
I was not only mourning what was done to me.
I was mourning the child who kept waiting to be known,
and the closeness
that never had its chance to exist.
I screamed until my throat tore -
"You're hurting me! Please, let me go!"
And you stood there, vacant,
gazing at me with a soft, baffled innocence.,
because you couldnt see the violence of your hands.
You wouldn't see it.
Instead, you looked down at my bleeding body,
shook your head in quiet disappointment,
and whispered,
"Look what you made me do."
"I do not want to kill you," you repeatedly pled,
to which I laughed, my wrists seeping red.
"Look at all you've done!
Please, don't soften what's said.
You can't kill someone,
who is already dead."
Why is my name blue
on your lips? You cry it to
The heavens--silence!
If I am your refrain, let
My name burn as cold as ice!
Her suffering was her currency as she would trade in sympathies among a band of devils driven wild by their needs to be possessed and to possess in a world seldom fair being built in complications simple heads never seem to ever understand and.
She was Magnificent.
They way she tore me down. Only one other thing had ever hurt me more.
The Rebel
Evening flames falter and die
Suffocated in the night’s cool embrace
A bed of sleepy orange embers
Gradually give way to blue ash
Beneath the hush of silky starlight
A solitary glow persists
Holding against the encroaching dark
Refusing surrender
In daybreak’s velvet breath
Veils of ash, like petals, drift aimlessly away
While the ember defies obliteration
With subtle inner-warmth
In the gall of yesterday’s ruin
It burns for promises never spoken
What remains, quietly transformed
Exhales and ignites something new.
9/17/2026 - For The Rebel Poetry Contest hosted by Unseeking Seeker
I'm laying here tonight
In the bed we used to share
Looking at your side hurts
Without you it's so bare
I pull your pillow close to me
But you scent is gone too
As tears roll down my face
My heart breaks again missing you
It hurts a little extra knowing
You leaving is because of me
This burden I'll carry forever
I deserve all this misery
I don't deserve happiness
That fact should be known
I deserve this life of regret
That I'll forever spend alone
Wish you had someone better,
So dreams wouldn't shatter —
Of holding your desired moon,
I hope I leave your life soon.
So when I leave, don't call it loss,
Call it the tide that had to cross —
I hope I leave your life soon,
And you still get to keep the moon.
The door that closed was heavy wood,
A sudden turn where promise stood.
You brought your work, your heart, your time,
And hoped to find a matching rhyme,
Only to watch the offer fall
Against an unexpected wall.
It stings to hear a simple "no"
When you were set and ready to go.
It leaves a quiet, hollow space,
A sudden pause in mid-erase,
Where questions linger in the mind
About the things you left behind.
Yet every NO is just a sign
That draws a cleaner, sharper line.
It turns your feet a different way
To find a better place to stay.
A closed path doesn't mean you stop—
It simply changes where you drop
even though it hurts alot
The seeds of what you'll build next time,
With stronger steps and higher climb.
cuckoo bystander
hippies hound
desecrate passing
shrewdly badmouth
siegfried bobcat
wake european
spirits enlisting
the globally
fortuitousness by
reading rhythmic
confrontation dutifully
fluster fission
spat and
unite your
sourness unlearned
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • September 7–13, 2026)
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