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Tara Poetry Poem
Golden retriever energy
from a human marshmallow
Squidgy, and layers of softness
So sickly, it’s yellow
Push me and shape me
Gelatine-free
and never fully set
I long for warmth and comfort
Never opaque
Vulnerable, in my mellow
My eyes, a book to be read
Transparent, in my lack of mystery
Terrified by streams of novels
On each day’s invisible stage
If they could see my elements
As I transmit, and they’d point out,
my pain
Nobody’s epic saga, though, is inflicted
on those, incapable of celebrated absorption
Scared of those who, once, raged
You, never meant for those who wouldn’t care for your story
Investing in self-love and true gentleness
No meaningless turnings, and takings,
Grabbing and gripping to ‘their’ belonging
an, uncredited, next page
Not transparent, but translucent
Your dawn comes in wonder
Pillow soft, with tears, in heavy
You dazzle of curious acceptance
Sadness and joy met with divine
in their eyes
‘I want to know you’
Spillages, shipwrecks and mallow pieces
never kicked and spit out
Connection, that wants to see you thrive
Because, the real, and beautiful,
want every stage
In it, for the full picture
Not for your booster, bolstering up, to cushion unreceptive hearts
A you, jellied, into desirable concoctions
that split - and fall apart
In meeting souls
that only want you, to be, you
and when light breaks and
you rise in wonder
It’s cherished by those,
who never doubted
You enter game changing, unapologetic
Cushioned by your insides
and those that always knew
…
TaraStarPoetry dot medium dot com
Copyright © Tara poetry | Year Posted 2024
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Details |
Tara Poetry Poem
The first one
The first one to speak
The first one to want
to thrive
The first one to try and speak
and not to just survive
The first one to shatter denial
It feels like
Aware I’m squishing it inside
The first one to mention neurodivergence
Encourage talk
In youthful stages
Sharing ‘all those feelings’ of mine
Knowing others do what they
are capable of
and I am wrong, because
I don’t always see
What’s really going on in their world
But, I felt I was pretty good at an overview
and they preferred the, their lens, screen
Traumatic patterns too
Of anger,
I seemed like I was raising my
head above the water
Spitting out blood
I saw what was unhealthy
I felt putting conditions on it
Meant it wasn’t love
I end up feeling I’m selfish
because I keep discomfort alive
I want to ask the questions
and, for some, there’s a mass of
convenient assumption
Fanning flames of disillusionment
Yet, keeping the important stuff inside
Maybe they see me with an elevated
sense of self
Because I want to reach understandings
and doing it is bad for my health
We loop over the same topics
I chastise myself for each time
I’m bad for getting sucked in
Because you know how to hurt me
but, does it bother you,
watching me sink?
Or is there an exquisite elevation
and touch-release
Of a ‘troubled’ soul
with the ‘kooky’ vibe
My arrogance because things
you do in 2024
I could have told you
at twenty five
Me and that mass of feelings
That violate you
I spoke
But there’s no credit for a
heart alive
And so,
Is it me trying to secure safety?
Something no words can
ever buy
You don’t get credit for noticing
For being one of the first
From the loneliest place
to live life
I try to get vulnerable
and spill out my flaws
But my word salad
Stops you from being engaged
and, after all, I only eat sugar and carbs
Shaming repeated
and spirals
Each other’s disconnected soliloquies
Grey, vivid and blurry
Poised - of hurt and rage
Feeling paint cartwheels
lifted
all over my page
..
Tara star
Copyright © Tara poetry | Year Posted 2024
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