The “Hard” Collection (by Rebecca Chasteen) Tuesday, Jul 28 2009

Hardest session (with reflection):

It’s hard to stop
seeing
a shattered person
it’s hard
to know
how to feel

I spent too long believing

everything came
too soon
or too late

I’m angry half the time I pray

these are deeper cuts
then I ever knew
and there’s no one to bear witness
as it all bleeds through

what was lost
wasn’t even real

the bitterness of disappointment
makes me purge
myself
of the like

only to realize
I am made of much less
than I imagined

but that does little
to surprise me now.

Hardest lesson:

Everything
is too much to entrust
(but it took being crushed)

I held on,
being pushed away
I was shut out,
and I just prayed
I was put down,
but just loved too much

I gave all there was
I gave myself up

And the shock
depleted my reserves,
tainted every place you were

I’d convinced myself if I gave it all,
I’d get everything in return
and so came the hardest lesson
I ever had to learn

Broke so much I got set free:

I cried
I prayed
I tried
I stayed

I’m done.

Words are never enough:

You say you love
But words are never enough
Especially after hurting so much

You say you feel
But you have yet to prove it
Hurry up
You’re going to lose it

I can only want for so long
And I’ve been wanting so long

I can’t function like this
I think, deep down,
You like you can wreck me

Whatever

Break my heart
Over and over
Break my spirit
Chip my shoulder

You don’t want me to hate you
But it’s getting to where
I wish we never met
I wish I couldn’t care

The part of the vows no one wants to talk about:

I can’t get your hands
To make me feel loved

We all know love’s not enough
But does it take so much
Of other things
To justify
these rings?

Why does it still hurt?

I’m so sick
of the play by play
who hurt who how
point is:
it got this way.

I don’t have much else to say
that you can understand
just grasping for
truth you can stomach

And how did this
go so wrong?
We can fight about it
all night long
till
you get mad
I cry
is this the homestretch
or the long goodbye?

When does it all fall back together?
When does “it’s over” sound worse than forever?

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The Toxic Collection (by Rebecca Chasteen Sunday, Jan 4 2009

Snake Bite

I feel your anger in your hand on my face, you have countless ways
of making me feel guilty, of making me feel worthless
you obligate me with your need and I don’t think anything

is worth this

glass at my feet, vodka dripping
plaster on my shoulders, in my hair
remnants of the one wall you manage to break through
I can’t do this

I shouldn’t be here

with you screaming at toddlers who cry out for you
all the time,
telling me to never come back inside, and leaving me
with all the responsibility-
it’s not okay

I’m war weary, I’m not connecting
I’m just drifting
I’m just waiting
I’m just dreading

coming home

——————————————————————
t(ou)rnique(t)

while you weren’t watching
i carved out something
just for me
broke so much i got set free
i’d say thank you
if i didn’t almost hate you
you won’t find what i’ve hidden
you can’t take what’s not given
i cut my skin with that glass and sucked the venom
i’m not dying here- victim
i might not look any different face to face
but i’m out, i’m safe.

———————————————————————-
Turning Point

I’m not guilty.
I’m not sorry.
You can’t make me
feel anything.

I’m not scared
when you yell,
when you’re in my face
saying things
you chose specifically to hurt me.

And I don’t care
when you turn cool,
indifferent,
exacting on me the punishment
of not being worth your emotion.

Because I see through you
and I won’t allow you any part of me
to mutate,
to mutilate,
to puppet or parade.

I’m not yours
and
I’m not afraid.

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Kite Running, Worshiping Lilies in the Valley (by Rebecca Chasteen) Saturday, Dec 6 2008

Kite Runner

I wish you knew
the way I walk around
thread spinning as you kite away
thinnest strand
I tied to you that first time…

silly girl
who lays herself out
and expects so much more
knowing full well
the bed you made a long time ago
in hunger and desperation
even so
no one wants a train wreck
weren’t you the one who said that
you don’t want to have to salvage or sift through ashes?

you’re always a child
in need
and hopeful
spinning threads
to keep everyone you ever loved
or ever imagined cared for you
within strand’s reach
so no matter how far
they’re always pulling on your heart.
—————————————————————————————-
Lily of the Valley

I hate grieving the living,
sitting beside that glass
leaving fingerprints,
foggy breath marks
full of words

I’m so tired of telling you goodbye,
of resolutions I can’t keep
passing white flags screaming
“Retreat!” “Retreat!”

no matter what I tell you
or myself
mourning slips from my eyes
all the time
haunted by
conversations we don’t have
and places we don’t go

and every time
I start to feel okay,
I find a way to
open a wound

because there are already times
I start to forget the little things
that made it real
and I can’t go back

I can’t act like I don’t walk around
full to the top in wanting,
like I don’t bear the weight
of what I’m missing.
———————————————————————————-
worship

it’s idol worship, my head bowed on your chest
silent prayers
while I memorize the way it feels
to be the one in your arms

idol worship, kissing the corners of your mouth
while you smile at me
silent prayers,
that my offerings will keep me here

as much as I want to believe…
even I can see
this beggar, kneeling

it’s pathetic

so I swallow
the rest of my words

you are careful, but kind enough, composed
the moment’s gone, as moment’s go
every pore I could open to soak you in
misses you

while silent prayers fall into hands that held you

idle worship
in those places you were;
on watch

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Pilgrim, Glass, There’s No Going Back ( by Rebecca Chasteen) Wednesday, Dec 3 2008

(Scavenger)
I am on the fringes, toes in the water
regret would be harsh and unfair
but I am a standstill pilgrim
more roots than wings
I am scavenging from all of you
for little things to get me through

(Petition)
I’m still
wondering why this is still so hard; managing, breathing
why there are still days I can’t get past survival

I’m still
wanting more than that

I’m still
missing something, it seems
to hold me together

still
cracked
glass
pilgrim

I’m still
petitioning for a stillness of peace to piece me back together,

for assurance, still assurance
glazing me, and filling in the cracks
to glorify every little fragment

to tint me,stain my purpose, arrange my story
and sit me, completed, in the light

so I am a masterpiece
and not a constant mess

I’m still,
waiting
I’m still
wrestling
I’m still

here

(All that broken glass)
I appreciate
the distance
of time
and silence
but I’m afraid
it’s too late

I’m glass
I’m stained

you’ve made me
stand tall,
reflective
catching light

warming,
tinting
pools
of sun

little pieces
little stories

there’s no
going back

(Bulldoze)
I am
anxious, needing
and so overwhelmed

But I refuse to let that bulldoze my recovery

I am finally seeing
a person
when I face the mirror
I am just barely
tasting, testing
living

How can someone be broken open
yet still so full?

I fight impulses
for fear of losing what I am almost sure I don’t really have

But fear is an enemy, an army
using doubt like weapon, lying to me
sending regret as a foot soldier,
demanding I retreat

I will not
I can not
go back

It is too late for that

I was playing with an idea here: Poem 1 and 2 have “pilgrim” in common. Poems 2 and 3 have “stain(ed)” and “glass” in common. Poems 3 and 4 have “no going back” in common. I could probably go with this for a while, but figured this was probably a good length for a blog.

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A Collection (by Rebecca Chasteen) Wednesday, Dec 3 2008

Shine

moonshine
sticky on your fingers…

what was lost wasn’t even real;
passionate
creative
fantasy
girls in women’s bodies choose to believe

and now you’re flat on your back
moon shine on your face and on your tongue
it’s a different shine
and it’s not so bad

who knew you had it in you to take it like you did

————————–——————————————————-
Nothing at all

I’m always jumping, I’m always open,
you don’t give a fuck, and I’m always hoping
I know where we stand
what we can and what we can’t
I know, you’re a man
and I should be able to grasp why you’re such an ass,
I should walk away, throw one finger back
maybe that would satisfy me,
since you don’t, since you won’t

only the dumbest girl
would watch you leave and pretend you stay,
hurt, but think you love her anyway
and answer the phone every time you call
and still think it’s better than nothing at all
————————–————————–—————–
Heartless Hands

If there’s anything I learned
from the arms that held me close,
it’s the fact that hands are heartless
when motivated by the desire to fill emptiness
with a physical high,
no matter what I try, physical pleasure dissipates,
in hands like that, no one’s safe
and the void stays empty

no matter how much those hands feel me,
they never fill me
and the more I’m touched, the less I feel,
the more my wounds are handled, the less they heal
and I just keep thinking,
there’s got to be a more lasting high

even false tenderness makes me want something deep
and I begin to see I’m not even giving all I can,
hardened by these heartless hands.
————————–————————–————————–-
Quittin’ Time

I quit acting like I’m not worth it
I quit being manipulated to care
by insipid dreams full of your hot air
I quit acting like this is not a game-

you don’t have a thing for me,
you just want some play
and I lost to you a while ago,
so don’t bother coming over, because all you’ll get is no
and don’t call me when you’re all aroused
and need someone to work you out
my words are the only thing that will be in my mouth.

I was oblivious before, but despite what I once imagined,
there’s nothing here worth caring for
you had your chance, when I wanted you,
but I don’t anymore, so your hand will have to do.
————————–————————–————————–—–
Not today

I’ve already turned down half a dozen reasons to call you
because I’m not going to
-Not Today-

I waited out that song because, you know,
when that song was through,
another one came on that sounded nothing like you

and I just turned the page when you showed up in that book,
I didn’t give that page another look
-Not Today-

I’m willing to do so many things,
but there is still some effort you need to make
I’m not going to be the only one going out of my way
-Not Today-

if you wanted to be here, there’s plenty of room,
but I’m not coming after you
-Not Today-
————————–————————–————————–——
Some things never change

Belief is all or nothing
an insistent still
an act of will
or resignation

this is not a trial run

I can’t tell if my words
are running into walls or being carried off in the wind,
but here they are again:
I’m all in
I always have been
————————–————————–————————–—–
Assertion

This is assertion, this is opportunity
I have made certain you know enough
and I’d say enough time’s been spent
carving

I’m certain you see me when I’m not there
I’m just not sure how much you care

I’m the same as I was before, you always have the open door
this is opportunity (come to me)

I’m not avoiding those CD’s because you don’t own those songs
and even though you touched me while they played,
and that means so many things,
it doesn’t have to be the last thing it means

I told you, this is assertion
I have laid it out and laid it down
and I never gave you the chance to miss me

here it is,
here it is

I’ve had this sequence of poems in my head since the last time I posted. It’s supposed to tell a story, or maybe just show a progression, kind of like albums do sometimes.

“Heartless Hands” was written probably ten years ago, but I’m pretty sure that it was inspired by “What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, and Where, and Why” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I tried to condense the presentation of the poems so this wouldn’t seem too long, but hopefully the length didn’t put anyone off from reading through the whole thing since it is a progressive thing. Of course, if you got this far, I guess it didn’t!

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