The Catalyst
For my Catharsis
Shivering and shaking
While
Standing at the Precipice
Will
I slide into
The abyss of my own self doubt
Waiting
For the karmic retribution
I know I deserve
Sabotaging
All in my life
That is beautiful and good
Trying to reclaim
What was lost
From my childhood
The sense of adventure
The trusting heart
The need to be loved
Forced at too tender of an age
To become the responsible one
Once hateful and bitter
About what I missed out on
I can now relate
Almost sympathize
With the need to escape
From what is expected of me
Not knowing who or what
I am supposed to be
Daily losing to the fight
That rages inside my mind
I succumb to the darkness
Shedding my tears secretly
Please don't hold or comfort me
That just makes the pain more real
And the show must go on....
This skin of mine
Seemingly tough
Yet achingly fragile
Carries
These scars of mine
Reminding me
How
As a child
I would claw and tear
At my flesh
Drawing blood
Along
With my mother's tears
Because this
I could control
When everything else
Around me
Spiraled out of control
The ink that sprawls across
My body
Was always under the surface
Fighting to come out
Waiting to tell the story
Of a young girl
Struggling to embrace
Womanhood
Carelessly wasting treasures
On those who were undeserving
Because loving yourself
Can be brutal enough
And how could I expect it
From anyone else
This image I see
In the mirror
Staring at me
Ugly and uncomfortable
Waiting forty years
To feel like it belongs
Is growing tired of trying
The falls hurt more
As each year passes
Leaving bruises
That will never heal
~Amber C. Smith
Neon signs
Screaming
Liquor here
Illuminating
This dark time of year
I know the comfort
The bottle can bring
Warm like an old friend
That leaves you
Shivering with the Sun
I am aware that
"It runs in my family"
Leaving broken homes
And scars that never heal
But I can be cunning
Outfoxing the inherent patterns
I could easily fall prey to
Somedays I am not worthy
Of the love I am given
And it is easier to numb my body
Silencing the nagging questions
That I will compulsively ask myself
Throughout the day
Moving
Through this life
Translucent like a ghost
Nothing seems to hold
Or ease me
Everything
Passes through me
Leaving me to run
Faster than my past
Holding tight to the belief
That I will not become
Just like my father
Who drinks away his days
Waiting at the racetrack
For that winning ticket
So he can start "living"
His life
While the one he has
Slowly
Escapes him...
~Amber C. Smith
~ I met my mother's friend Robert
When I was a young girl
He had an androgynous beauty
Glamorous, vibrant, easy to love
Scissors in hand and talking away
My brother and I would race to his chair
Just to feel the magic that coursed
Through his fingertips
Blonde hair and cheekbones for days
I would get lost in his stories and
The way his eyes sparkled
While telling them
His lover Carmen was handsome
Dark caramel skin, smoky eyes, and
Sinewy limbs
You could tell they were in love
As a child I could sense this
And it was beautiful
Robert began to transform
I could see subtle changes
The fuller lips
More voluptuous curves
A higher octave voice
He had performed in drag for years
Making her own costumes
Exotic
Full of glitter and feathers
She was the toast of Miami
Desired by so many and
Finally
Becoming the woman she had always
Been
Trapped under layers of hurt and skin
Michelle emerged
Full of elegance and grace
Long legs, wanton eyes
And those cheekbones for days
Ravishing and commanding of your attention
I was completely bewitched by her
Forgetting that Robert ever existed
Years passed between us and
I rarely saw Carmen and Michelle
Leaving behind the little girl I was
And becoming a woman faster than I wanted to
I would sometimes romanticize about their lives
How their love would endure as it always had
That Michelle was still as captivating as ever
And that Carmen was still enamored by her beauty
It was a Friday night in Florida
I was eighteen and intoxicated
Laughing wildly with friends
Dining in a ghastly restaurant
That reeked of desperation
I locked eyes with one of the waiters
Blonde hair and cheekbones for days
Robert had returned
Standing just feet from me
Our awkward stare ended
As he shyly let his eyes
Fall to the floor
Turning away from me and my memory
And taking all of his secrets with him~
Eight years old
Freckled face
Long red hair
The wonder of the rails
Behind and before me
Me and my little brother
Were so giddy with excitement
Dining cars and sleeping on trains
An adventure unfolding before our eyes
I remember wearing my soft fleece nightgown
Innocently covered with bunny rabbits and carrots
My uncle gently holding me in his arms
Carrying me to the car that drove us to their house in Vermont
My mom had just lost her sister in a violent car crash
My parents' marriage was beginning to dissolve
But all I remember is that train ride and picking fresh berries in Vermont
The sweet smell of homemade jam wafting through the house
And
How peaceful the world could seem
When you weren't surrounded by heartbreak and tears.
Broken glass
Rusty nails
Your lies spoken
The tall tales
Believing you could change
Knowing you would not
The women who left
Quietly in the night
Their perfume
Still lingering
While I
Gasped for air
Remembering
The stillness
Of the room
My breath
The anger
Consuming me
Leaving me
To ache for what
Will never be
~Oh the innocence spoken
Under hushed breath
Before the poison
Sets in
And
Your
Digging for words
Like excavating
Ancient tombs
Afraid of what you will speak
Frightened by what he will hear
Each word
A brick
Building a fortress
That surrounds you
Strangling the light
While
Feeding the darkness
And
The monsters that come with it~
