Fata Morgana

Fata Morgana

A Poem by Melobldnfr



I may have been an angel,
But I am no innocent.
You put me on a pedestal
So I could come to taste pavement.

And all of your things,
They mean nothing
In the eyes of the storm.
Yes all of your things now,
Do tell me,
Are they keeping you comfortably warm?

You hope that I am well.
I hope the same for you;
Yet, have no way of saying
Through this wall now built for two.

Having to be so strong
As directed by The U.
How do I stay strong
When beneath my skin
There is...you?

Remnants -
Dark where there was light.

It’s like
The first of every Spring,
Getting so close to the sun.
Regardless what I do or wear
There is discomfort and pain
(Which does subside the more I am

I was naked and vulnerable
And you...
An impenetrable
Shroud around your heart.
A charade,
You spade.
Then why parade me
As if potential for more
From the start?
You selfish,
Foolish Boar!

Pisces wants Justice?
You swam out
And flashed your colors
Luring me to a fate
Which is no fate,
In which there is no justice!
You coy, cold fish!

I gave you
Every angle
Of what was going on with me,
And my thanks?
Little more than a line
So plausible and shallow,
When we once were

*It is not a matter of going back to being
“Just friends” (we never were) after having had sex.
It is a matter of going into being
Guarded in a way we never were
After having been, in every way,
So damned intimate.*

You know it,
And I know it.
Especially now that in that knowing
It has been like,
“Oh, I could have loved you,
Or you were potentially lovable,
Until that.”

As if you are

How am I ever supposed to risk
Showing you any, any more of me
Ever, ever at all?

It is like...
This friend of mine talks about
Not enjoying getting to know her
Favorite artists,
Because their works speak from a place
They themselves do not,
And in meeting and getting to know them
They become real and human
And disappointing and sad.

I was not wearing any masks.
Just finally a part of me
So ancient I didn’t recognize
As needs be
Met, loved, and accepted.

And you, Mr. Counselor Wannabe,
You of all folks should then know, right?
Should be able to see?

How I come from enmesh trauma?
How I was not allowed emotion
Or to be vulnerable
Or an identity?
Or individuality?

A part of myself
So definitely needing
Love and acceptance
Felt safe enough to
And you denied her.

Where I held your hand,

It has all become
Illness in my mouth.

© 2020 Melobldnfr

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Added on March 28, 2020
Last Updated on March 28, 2020



Wichita, KS

I am always writing, but have not joined a writers' group since The Belle Haven when it was in existence. I loved it and really miss it. So when this site was recommended to me, I couldn't resist. .. more..

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A Poem by Melobldnfr