A Conversation with myself in three parts:

Do you love me? 

Probably not.  

 Do you love me? 

What’s with you and this question? Lay off. 

Do you love me? 




I’ve always wanted to be beautiful, pretty prose but I’m no novel, I’m no epic, I exist in dark shadows. 
I’m not the book you take to be signed or found on a best seller list. I know won’t ever be studied or quoted for my eloquence.

You won’t see my text transcribed for a movie or TV, ’cause really, let’s be honest, no one’s interested in me. 

I’m a thesaurus. 

I’m more of an appliance, a means to an end. I’m used and used up but never read. I’m not a book of adventure, nor can I teach you how to sew. All I’m really good for is telling what I know.  

They’ll never “ooh” and “aah” at me or snatch me off the shelf. And they’ll probably just use Google when they actually need the help. 

I like think of myself as a  window that’s looked through but not seen.  It’s never me they’re looking for but everything in-between. 

In the rarest moments,  I catch beauty in myself. It’s fleeting and flirting. It promises so much beyond life on this shelf. 

When the moment is gone and I’ve remembered who I am. My lost hope and delusion press painfully against my diaphragm. 

I’m not sure if I have value and unsure if I truly care. Some days are worse than others with the drowing and despair. 

This unceasing hurt, deep wounds refusing to heal, I question and wonder how much more I can take, how much less I could feel. 

The Plain Book

Jeremiah 15:18

Hide and Go Seek

I feel that I am still running.  Some part,  some fading memory lingers still in my subconscious. Just when I think it’s safe to come out-

My mind has forgotten but the scars in my heart remember. Can we ever forget love or will it just haunt the cracks it leaves behind?  Chasing me down-

I’m determined to hide. 

 I remind myself that I like to sleep alone,  that I hate sharing a bathroom and  don’t want any  more obligation. I occupy myself with men I don’t love, who can’t hurt me.  A safe hiding place-

It’s the safest place I know.  I neither rejoice nor lament. 

I feel nothing. 

No one will find me here.