We Spoke That’s All

We Spoke.debora-cardenas-500580-unsplash


And then I compared

You with me

Height, youth

Nails, hair

Just the things I could see

You are

That I will never be



Could you write a poem?

Could you win me in a dare?


You could steal my husband


That is some dress

You decided to wear


When I am so jealous

I turn green

I feel my skin

Hard and metal

As an old machine churning

Its unoiled parts


I look at you

And I see whole kingdoms

Of broken hearts


I will never be able to

Compete with that

I will never be

Young, sweet

Smart, strong

And coming up to bat


I am on the other side

Of life’s roller coaster

I am the bread that got cooked

And then left in the toaster

I am the butter

That has to be scraped

From the butter dish

The bones

That didn’t quite get picked

Out of the fish

Before it was served


I am old-ish


I am the car

Without power steering

That swerved

To avoid hitting

A wall of fog

Or cement that curved

Around some hidden bend


I am a bog

A hollow log in the rain

I am a bitter fountain

Of complain


Sometimes I still pretend

I will like what I see

In the mirror

That I will wake up

Soft and juicy

And full of spunk


Sometimes I embrace

The delusion

That I am a fresh doughnut

Ready to dunk


But then

I remember you

And I flunk

In my self esteem


My own dream

And I realize


I am still the swelling


That sank and dissolved

I am still sunk


I am the stale potato

Growing green bits

I am the smell

Left over

After the skunk

Lifts its tail


I am the sad, mean

Tooth-loosing monk

With the dirty pail

Who shaves her head

Because her hair

No longer matters

And gives away her ponytail

So a poorer person

Can make a wig


I am the grub-digger

Eating bugs

I am the stuff that collects

Under rugs


That’s how close I feel

To dead

When I look at you

You take

Whatever good is left

Of me

And that is everything

You steal


But how do you feel?

For that’s what really matters

That’s what stays un-cracked

When my looking glass shatters


I’ll smile and I’ll ask

How are you?

That will be my task


I will make you

My spiritual freedom teacher

I will assign you

To myself

I will pretend that you are

Someone I could love

If I could

Only love myself


Let me learn

To love you

Let me learn

To share this world

To let you win

To be that girl

That one

They will always choose


Let me lose


Let me learn

To not compare

Let me suffer this

And still choose



Let me choose

To dare


By Julie Flanders

Photo By Debora Cardenas






About octoberprojectmusic

Julie Flanders Marina Belica Emil Adler
This entry was posted in October Project, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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