when things were normal
i couldn't be myself
when things were normal
ineverseemedtoreallypauseandstop
when things were normal
icouldrunawayfromwhatineeded
when things were normal
iwaswhatidid
when things were normal
alliwantedwastobedistractedfromwhatreallymattered
when things were normal
icouldntbemyself
when things were normal
ididntknowwhomyselfwas
when things were normal
iwouldnthavetakenamuchneededbreak
when things were normal
alliwantedwastowork
when things were normal
iwasrunningonexhaustedfumes
when things were normal
iwasmadangryfrustratedandresentful
when things weren't normal
that all slowly changed
. . .
now things aren't normal
i stopped and chatted for a bit
now things aren't normal
i slept in an hour more
now things aren't normal
i thank myself for being strong
now things aren't normal
i'm blessed to share this life with the trees
now things aren't normal
i noticed that i gained some weight
now things aren't normal
i can laugh about the pain of living
now things aren't normal
i finally can pause and stop
About the Creator
poetryinwaiting
I love all things writing...though I am particularly biased towards good, vulnerable poetry. I love pouring my heart on a page with every piece I write. Life is for expressing, not containing.
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More stories from poetryinwaiting and writers in Poets and other communities.
Paint and Weave
Author's Notes: I rediscovered my 1980's poetry magnets box and in it were two poems I find compelling. I recall having challenged myself to create two poems using the same set of words. These two poem are what spilled out. Which one resonates more with you, version A or B? Leave it in Comments. I'd love to know your thoughts!
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Poets
Two Pink Lines
I had never really felt like a child. I'd always had to raise myself. My mother was just a teenager when she'd had me and consequently, we had spent my whole childhood arguing and fighting like a couple of sisters as opposed to mother and daughter. My father was older than my mother but still had some maturing to do himself. He focused his entire life on me, his little girl but never realized the pressure that put on me. I always felt I had to raise him even as he was trying to raise me. We raised each other. Then, I met him. He cares, he shows me a love like I've never known. For once, it's about me and I don't have to focus on other people's needs and what someone needs from me. Someone always wants something from you. That is what my parents have taught me. Love is selfish but it isn't with him. He is perfect, beautiful, funny, and can take me to places I've only dreamed about. Places outside my mind and my own pathetic life and I know that I will always love him. When we first met, I wanted him to have my children, but now? Right now, with us both still in high school? This is all happening so soon. I slipped into the restroom at work. It had been 6 weeks since my last menstrual and this was not normal. I couldn't wait any longer. I put the top on the test and waited. These 60 seconds felt like forever. What would we do? We were both seniors so we didn't have long to go before school was over but this was not the plan. The plan was for him to join the Army and me the National Guard and for me to get my associate's degree and then we marry, then have kids.
By Lindsey Altom4 days ago in Fiction
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