My Beauty ( rough draft)

(in progress... i just need to store it here lol)

Where is my beauty?
she'd asked me...
I just need to feel my beauty...

Our relationship seemed perfect
from an observers perspective
but of course there's always some
problems couples never mention

I tried to focus in on her problems
without the guidance of a lens...

No microscope, just micro-hoped
that my focus would lead her to giving in.
Not giving into me, but more into
what we could become
but all we became in the end...
We were an underdeveloped embryo
never escaping the wound because
she never believed that she was strong
enough to push thru.

She depended on her beauty to push her thru...
She just wanted her beauty...
Her family and few friends tried to love
her, and listen to her
but never full understood her.

They couldn't hear her over the college
degree, the home in the suburbs
or her Bentley with no lease.
None of those material things could
fulfill what her beauty could.

"I feel constant pressure to be exactly what

they think I should be..."

She mostly repeated those words

during her recovery periods...

It's amazing how society will stereotype

what the face of addiction is.

not every drug addict walks the streets

at night shaking and twitching

not wfie beater, actually walks around

in wife beater's.

So you can imagine her families reactions

when I warned them of there goldenchilds

problems...

She just wanted her beauty
She just needed her beauty.

And although I've never been a conventional reader

of the bible, the story once told of sodom and

gommorrah started to make sense to me.

the moral i received from it, is in the process of

letting the past go you must not look back.

 

No matter how much I told her to simply breathe
and let the past just be,
she just had to go and hide that
Sodom and Gomorrah in her back pocket and she did
just what Lot's wife did and looked back.
Lot's wife became a pillar of salt, but in this version

of the tale the salt was replaced by cocaine and I had to
let her go if she still wanted
push that sin thru her veins.

She never saw the beauty within.

And no compliments or positive encouragement
could replenish what trials and tribulations
alone have spent.
I learned the hard way that being called beautiful
is one thing, but feeling that beauty is another.
And most men who aren't attentive to their emotions
fail to realize that every woman they deem
as beautiful doesn't always see it themselves.

You see, beauty is skin deep
and its no wonder why she pushes those needles
so deep in her veins, hoping the drug
will guide her to what she desperately seeks.
The drug isn't the addiction
Her past dictated her present actions
Single parent upbringing where mom
paid the bills the street legal way.

Her mother didn't use the drug to
numb the pains of selling sex, but to
keep herself from disappointing
her pimp who she loved blindly.
She was aware she possessed the
strength to break free but the drug
stabilized that ability.
Love was blind, and coke was the cane.

She couldn't break free from her beauty
she couldn't even see her
daughter as her beauty
so how could I expect her to see me?

I released her because blind love
will cause submission to the very
thing you fight against, and loving
her became a losing battle.
she fought with the cocaine instead of
against it beside me.

So when she decided to look back
I had to let her hand go or risk
that pillar of salt absorb me.

(in progress)

Reviews

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

The message is clear, and I think you are doing a fine job on this poem. Thank you for sharing. Debileah