Back Pocket

Love.
I want to share with you something
brought to my attention by a constant section of life
called hate.
It's something that looks at me day after day from my mirror.
Haunts me in the looks of those whose approval I seek.
And I have a problem with that word, "approval".

I use to think love is something small and fragile
Something to hide away in your back pocket
Keep it safe, so no one unworthy would see.
So no one could hurt.

I use to think love is a special word,
That I mustn't give it to anyone before I'm sure they'll give me theirs.
Because there always has to be at least one love in your back pocket.

I use to think you can only love the people
You knew for a long time, someone from down the street.
Someone you grew up with, but no.

It took me years of pain and heartache
A thousand offers of other people's hearts, and my offerings as well.
It took me a long time, but now I understand.

Instead of a pinpoint I thought love was, it is actually a never ending pit.
Instead of hiding it in my back pocket, I now know I can give and give and give because of the infinity of feelings like pine needles under thick snow just when the sunny smile melts it away.

And if you take the leap and start falling into that pit,
You just might fall in love, and that's ok.
I started digging that infinite hole of love
And the moment I found out it has no bottom
I started sharing. I started loving all and everything.

And if you find someone to love down your street
Then you're lucky, but if not it's ok.
I fell in love with Aragorn at the age of 10
... Ok maybe I had a crush on Legolas as well.

But what I am trying to say is that love comes
In all shapes and sizes, all universes and feelings
And don't be scared to give everyone your love
Because I promise, you won't run out.

But... Just in case, keep a little bit of that love
Down in your back pocket.

Cicmila

Mother, please

Can you tuck me in bed
Make sure I am warm
Can you get me some water
Mother, please?

Can you get me this toy
Or these shoes
Can you help me with homework
Mother, please?

Can you pay me this and that
Can you drive me here and there
Can you accept me for who I am
Mother, please?

I saw my path
Different from you
And I want to follow it
Mother, please!

You may have started off safe
But you too had wild ideas
You followed those dreams, remember
Mother, please!

I could never live in a world
Where my decisions aren't my own
So don't choose for me
Mother, please.

I know you mean the best
But sometimes
It's not the best for me, but for you, understand
Mother, please!

I'm not trying to push you away
I need you in my life
But don't hold me back
Mother, please!

When I try to talk to you
You walk away
Why won't you listen?!
Mother, please!

I don't care how old I am
I need you in my life
Please don't let me go
Mother, please!

I know you see
The tears in my eyes
Don't ignore them
Mother, please!

I know you don't see
Yourself when you look at me
But I'm not you, nor will I ever be
Mother, please.

I'm getting tired and weak
Pick me up from the ground
I can't stand on my own
Mother, please.

I need you.
As I always had and I always will
I need you.
Mother, please.

Cicmila

Rhymes

I wanted to get back to my roots
And write a short story
But it ended up a poem
Again.

And I'm not sure why
I always had the tendency
To put my thoughts on a scrap of paper
And not care what others think.

Wait.
That doesn't rhyme.
But neither does this
And here I am
Doing it all over again

Not caring what others will say
But you are the ones reading this, not me.
So I guess I do care a bit
You see...

I made that rhyme for you
As I, once again
Bow in the dirt
Seeking your approval

And it makes me think about
All the people I give my approval to
They don't ask for it
So I won't ask you.

Fuck, I just did it again....

Cicmila

A Little Bit

I grew up being told that too much of anything is bad. So on my own I developed a "a little bit of anything can't hurt" lifestyle. I was having fun and it was going great. I had a bit of it all and I loved it.
But some things I wanted more of. I guess you can never know how much you can take before "a little bit" turns to "too much". But i thought I could handle it.
No, sorry to break it to you, this is not a story about drugs or alcohol. I stayed clear of that because people warned me it would lead me astray.

But nobody warns you about the one thing that took me over.
As a child, I was always favored for being so ambitious. My parents were proud of me for knowing in first grade where I wanted to go to college.
But my ambition drove me mad. i was always looking years, decades ahead. I was as successful as anyone could wish to be. Other people didn't understand me. I married a man who wanted me for my money, but he left when I told him the date I wish to give birth to my first child.
My ambition made me paranoid and afraid of fate and coincidence. I didn't leave anything to chance.
Not even my death.
I am sixty one as I write this and twenty years ago I hired an assassin to kill me on this night.
i cannot call him off. this is the last thing I will ever write. The last thing I will ever do. This is a warning.
Life is not worth living if we leave nothing to chance and fate.
I hear my death knocking on the door. Here's my last message, I better make it quick.
Let go and enjoy. I wish I cou

Cicmila