The Privilege Of Discovering Love Is Her Middle Name
Not for the faint hearted
She is complicated, that is for certain
There are so many facets, she’ll surprise,
Only the most courageous will survive
The unveiling of her master disguise.
***
She has alchemy running through her veins
Striving to transmute all her hurt and pain,
Transforming it into strength and knowledge
So she will know never to trust you again.
***
She has witchcraft hanging from her tongue
Using her words, spells and sorcery at will,
She’s not surprised you hightailed it and ran
As it takes a certain person and a special skill.
***
She has aromatic frangipanis in her hair
Weaving their scent and calming effects,
Through her nightmares and dreamscapes
Slaying her anger, her hope and her regrets.
***
Her chest is filled with snoozing dragons
Lending their breathe for her to breath,
Their fire spreads through her limbs
To form a barrier of safety she sits beneath.
***
To the unloved, they erroneously call her shame
Not realising it’s a projection of their turmoil,
A mirror image of their internal dialogue
Their guilt, remorse and fear in which they broil.
***
Her feet wear Angel slippers, moulded perfectly
So she can climb the staircase to the moon,
Where she sits with her bound feet hanging
Shrugging off hurtful words to which she’s immune.
***
Her heart is a mysterious place, well guarded
She has banned your entry, you’ve now no claim,
She will choose a little more carefully next time
And they will discover that love is her middle name.
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Originally posted on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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