Just a Cornered Lonely Gal

It was late at night when I was writing the following poem for a class.  Today, I was reminded of it by the random thought, Hey, blog!,and so I thought I’d post it here.  This isn’t exactly the original poem, but it’s very close.  There are a few minor tweaks to the original because it was, as I mentioned, written pretty late at night.  And for a class.  (Go figure.)

I guess this poem mirrors my own thoughts too much, thoughts to the effect of I’m damaged and nobody will want me, or I can’t escape, etc.  It all helps when I get my own fears out of my head and on paper!

One final note – I did keep the original title of the poem, “Just a Cornered Lonely Gal,” even though I’m not 100% sure why I chose that title at the time.  Anyhow, I think there’s meaning to be found in keeping the original title of the poem.

 

Roses are red

Violets are…

 

…Not here.

 

Instead we

Paint the garden

Bloody

 

So

Don’t pick me because

I’m just a combination of

Green spikes and aphids and

Thorns

And

Well

It’s all too easy to forget

 

That I’m just like the rest but

Harder to deal with and

That I

Alone

Could pierce your skin

The way his eyes pierce yours

 

Gaping

Utter shock that something so beautiful

Could be so ugly

Could do such a thing

Could bite your tongue and spit out

Your blood

 

Sigh it out

 

I’m just another scarlet spillage in

The garden that’s too tired

To grow

Any further

Than the brick at

The end

Of

The tomato row

 

 

~ Ruth

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