Lie to Me

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Edvard Munch – Two Humans

Let’s pretend you are a king who must marry a queen. Then pretend I am that queen, and you agree to marry me. Lie to me and tell me you’d be happy.

Let’s pretend I’m a Baroness, and you are a pauper who falls in love with me. Then pretend that I run away with you, leaving everything behind. Shall I lie to you and tell you a Baroness would marry a pauper and leave it all behind?

Let’s pretend you’d love to raise a family with someone like me no matter the consequences, no matter how hard the road would be. Lie to me and tell me this wouldn’t break you and me.

Let’s pretend I lost my mind. Then pretend you had a choice between caging me within four walls or helping me with understanding and kindness. Lie to me and tell me you would help me.

Let’s pretend that you found a younger woman. Then pretend you asked me to step aside and leave our love behind. Lie to me and tell me that this would hurt you more than me.

Let’s pretend that I am perfect, just like you. Let us argue all day and compare all our merits. Lie to me and tell me you’d love to be with that version of me.

Let’s pretend that you and I are old. When the time comes, you step in and do what you think is right. Lie to me and tell me you know what I want.

Let’s pretend you died in a car crash and left me alone. Would you sit in heaven or burn in hell waiting for me, or would you move on? Lie to me and tell me that you know.

Let’s pretend that all the water under the bridge flows along. Then pretend that all the things we did to each other don’t matter. Lie to me and tell me you can forgive and forget.

Let’s pretend we never met. Then pretend we lived separate lives and never knew each other. Lie to me and tell me that life would not have been better.

Let’s come back to the present. Then discard letting ourselves pretend. Promise me you will never lie to me, and I will promise you I will never lie to you; let’s pretend.

Starlight Eyes

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Under the neon street lights,
two Divas walk hand in hand.

Dirty strip clubs line the walls;
kinky bubonic plagued havens.

A different set of musical vibrations cause
their three-inch heeled steps to skip, move.

Under a different set of neon lights, the two
girls step up and shake free those sequins.

Dancing to remember their struggle, dancing
to forget the bad times, they let everything go.

In their classy haven from hate,
the two Divas moved in unison.

Under the neon lights, they fade
away; lovers with starlight eyes.

Tanka: Pink Files

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Pink files surround me,
humidity on the breeze,
the overcast sky.
Sitting at my desk feeling
the winds of change are flowing.

My Week

At present, we are waiting for the humidity to break. I hope for the Autumn change to arrive.

I’ve been surrounded by pink files all week. You don’t know the stress involved in Property Law and Conveyancing until you experience the work.

It has been an intense week, which usually leaves me with nothing left by Friday night.

Add watching the war crimes in Ukraine, and I’m ready to leave my computer for a while and lay down.

Thank you for taking the time to visit my blog and read my words.

Dripping with Curiosity

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The door you can never enter,
intricate patterns carved into the door.
A child should be seen and not heard,
so you dared never enter the wooden door.

Older, you arrive at the house from long ago;
no longer a child, yet you have the heart of a child.

No longer afraid, you are dripping with curiosity.
To hell with it, you whisper,
then turn the handle and walk into the room.

Your Grandmother sits at her desk,
within a room of dreams and magic,
‘I wondered when you would join me.’

You smile and take the stars within your hands;
now you are ready for your mother’s secrets.

‘You have always been a witch, and now it is time to become one. Welcome to the heart of our coven, my beautiful Granddaughter.
I wish your mother could see this day, yet you know she still lingers.’

The Door

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Shunned for being different, blamed for the famine and the storms.

An ostentiferous girl with violet eyes and dark hair, a beauty not fit for this world, was sent to live in the forest.

Walking to forget, to find kindness and a warm home, she stumbled upon a beautiful tree with a wooden door.

Feeling as if nothing mattered, she opened the door, stepped inside, and left the cold lonely forest behind.

Dancing Tongues

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Six ladies meet at the “Celebrity Chef No.269th” restaurant in Melbourne for lunch at 1 pm for the weekly catchup.

They greet each other in the usual manner; fake kisses, judgemental grins, too much make-up, and designer clothes.

Once seated, they order drinks and lunch to make themselves feel like they have to be somewhere important.

Now the little things are sorted, the dancing tongues begin a convoluted quickstep.

Controversial gossip and catty bitchery dances on their lips as they release their hatred for their husbands, their children, and life in general.

By the dessert menu, which they make a point of resisting, they’re ready for a massage and a line of cocaine.