Value Unknown x Four

Putting the Damage On

I told him I didn’t like cut flowers
for the pain they must have felt.

No, don’t buy me a diamond ring.
No, I won’t wear white at our wedding.

My worth the inverse of repleted;
something he further depleted.

At some point I died,
no longer being seen.

Related poem:
Mama, a woman died in this house


Kisses in the Rain

He held my face,
He told me all the things I wanted to hear,
Whispered, he did, in my ear.
It was such a disgrace,
to allow his words to fall away like tears
just as my coat repelled the drops
of rain as they fell from the sky.
Sliding down, forming puddles of
mud at my feet.

Drunk, he still looked into my eyes
as he told me, what I thought were only lies:
I can see you.
You are beautiful.
And a truth I didn’t want to hear:
Even with your Jeep,
vulnerability you keep.

Then he had another beer,
from my mind,
I wiped all of his words clear.
The hickeys I found, later.


I hurt you

I saw the flash in your eyes
when I confessed that I couldn’t believe you
when you called me beautiful.

Know my Love,
it was me
I could

Thank you for being you, Eddie!
Maybe one day I can see what you see.
Maybe one day, I too, will be able to believe in me.



He Loved Her & Named Her “Elizabeth”

Her birth name not regal enough,
Once wed, He named her “Elizabeth.”

He gave her the name of the Queen,
for in His eyes, she was as royalty.

While not my story,
I can relate having been myself disconnected
all my life from being named Tiffany

though I do love how it so rhymes;
from its derivative: Epiphany

__/|\__ Metta

Image: Google

Published by Tiffany

Writing out my thoughts has helped me to gain a new perspective of myself. In sharing these writings, it is my hope to help others to better understand themselves. It is my belief that with each of us who chooses this path of greater understanding of thy self, that it inspires others to do the same. This building momentum is the force that drives me to share, for in my vulnerability, I find my strength. I believe that you can also find yours there. ~~~In reading some of my posts, you will see that growth is not always pretty. It is in breaking apart and coming undone that a seed sprouts and breaks free of its own captivity. It is also out of mud that the lotus blossoms. ~~~Please join me in seeing the beauty of growth within the deconstruction of our limiting beliefs. ~~T.C.

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