It was a quiet morning Not unlike most mornings for her…she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck, the place she carries her stress, and pulled it even tighter around her ugly truth, wishing she had remained aloof and anonymous.

She sips from her porcelain cup, in silent contemplation. Dreaming.  Wondering what it would be like looking at a woman’s reflection that says, self assured, strong and sufficient, confident in her stride, competent in her performance. Yet in the next breath the veil is so easily blown away. Revealing only a reflection of a woman falling short once again. A woman  lacking worth in her own eyes and in the eyesight of others. 

The only womanly things she possesses are passion and quiet femininity, which are not much to behold in such a judgmental world. These useless possessions lay under a coating far less desired than clothes of the same age, in better shape. How unseemly she remains to the outer fray.

She swallows a sip of cold coffee. How like her life that sip reminds her. They only desired her when she was hot & fresh. Scalding tongues with her flavor and boldness. She wasted her youth and her flavor now suffers. They must think she’s generic grounds…lacking 

She thinks of her mortality as her red painted nails trace the delicate lines of blue against pale flesh. Her mortality as thin as the inside of her wrist, one slip of a razor, blood spills in silence. One injection of poison, bloodsurge to her heart, stopping it. But doesn’t her heart stop daily when she awakens once again to the cold chill of silent grey walls? There is no relief of her heart’s aching. Or ceasing of her bloodflow…

Her sadness comes in waves, leaving as quickly as it arrives. As if to remind her that she is the wax and wane of tides. As unpredictable as the seas. A heart as heavy as salt. Love as strong as death. 


6 thoughts on “unseemly…

  1. Nicely written, but a tad bit self-deprecating, don’t you think? 🙂

    I noticed two tiny errors…
    A woman of lacking worth I heroes eyes
    in better shap


    1. Yes! But the beauty of writing is the healing that comes from unleashing that which attempts to strangle me! It’s my safe place to lay down what I need so i can wake each day and take a new breath… sometimes ungracefully


      1. What I meant is you shouldn’t allow what happens around you to shape how you regard yourself. What you are, you are. It doesn’t matter where we are in life, or who is with us, we may sometimes doubt ourselves, but we mustn’t forget the strength and beauty that carried us up to this moment in time.
        Sometimes we have to stand up for ourselves, ’cause no one else will.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Yes true! Yet we are in constant war of evolution from nature and nurture shaping us…we can recover from such influence but often we suffer damage to our psyche from certain situations and it effects us and shapes us. Should I say what is good shapes me beautifully and therefore its acceptable to let it influence me because it is positive? and yet, what is ugly, what harms me, effects me negatively , so I shouldn’t let it influence me? So the point I’m making is that regardless we are effected by circumstances and they can influence and shape us. Hopefully we can learn to foster the positive and rid of the negative.

        I find my strength and beauty is often through my writing… in the releasing of the pretty and not so pretty moments of my life!


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