When I first started blogging it was therapy. It was meant to be a way for me to sit with my brain and listen to what it had to say. And then I was supposed to summarize what it was telling me in as few words as possible.

Some people started calling it poetry.

I grew up thinking poetry was a very rigidly structured and meaningful puzzle. We would have long discussions about what the imagery meant and why it was written certain ways. And well all the poets were dead. So who knew the truth.

So I wrote and people called me a poet. So I guess poetry saved my life.

I started trying to write again and found myself digging and digging for something to write and I was dragging myself back to all my sore spots. I was reliving the pain. Found myself hurting all over again.

I wrote poetic duets without pain. I wrote about romance without pain. But somehow beyond all the trauma I can’t write about anything but the pain.

So I decided to try to write about something I love doing. See how that feels. I’m going to try to write about paintings I’ve done.

I couldn’t see you at first

Just an idea of your edges

And a searching excitement

For your overall color

Blues and purples

Bled into each other

And still no sign of you

I remember feeling

Like I had failed

You’d be lost forever

So I pulled you down

Set you aside

And there you were

Upside down and sideways

Staring through the purples

A feminine face coming

To the surface for air

A Mermaid all along

14 thoughts on “A MERMAID ALL ALONG

  1. I know what you mean, sort of. About reliving the pain. Sometimes words take me where I don’t want to go. But on the whole… it’s good. Sometimes I feel like getting the words out helps flush out some of the toxins, too. Anyways… A Mermaid all along, love it!

    Liked by 1 person

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