Naming Makes You Real

Chimera Poetry

You kissed me and it hurt 
but I was supposed to smile and thank you
and keep the bruises hidden like they were a defect 
because hurting me was too much entertainment to stop only because of my tender skin
with shameful names assigned at random and words like weapons
like stones thrown at a target who had nowhere to move
it was so easy to convince me I was wrong for doing none of the things you accused me of
 but I found myself guilty 
and sentenced to hard solitary
it was easier to be with the friends who were invisible
because they never asked the hard questions
and when you left with her
it never occurred to me that it wasn’t my fault…
I understand why you have to say your name in AA
it means something when you say who you are
naming  makes you real

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All I Ever Wanted

Chimera Poetry

“When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.”
~ Oscar Wilde

You were all.
You were all I wanted and all I ever wanted and all I would ever want
and my whole day was spent on plotting and planning and engineering a reason to see,
to speak,
 to call,
 to email,
to insert myself into your reality, 
to make myself over in your image.
You were all.
And little by little
I made progress and became a mirror for you, 
with a magic bagfull of excuses ready to provide for every occasion,
and a signed, sealed and laminated license permitting
 you to stay absorbed in yourself
with a fanbase of one to cheer you on.
The day came and all those machinations paid off,
you were mine to have and hold…
Time rolled steadily on…
But now,
now I see without the…

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The Sweetest Song

Jennifer Calvert Author

She is the… collapse of the sun, in nights shade, The very first light of day, upon dawns wake, The cool place between breaths, Ruffled hair on Sunday’s rest, Wings of gold, folded and feathery hold, The autumn leaves, as they shake in the breeze, A lake of blue horizons, lapping on the shore,
She is the sweetest song my ears have ever sung.

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Shimmers of Glass, Shards Of Memories

Jennifer Calvert Author still on the window pane, fractured light sleeks, sheer curtains and embroidered gold, dreary streets below, the sound of boots on cobblestone, alone, but unforgotten, worlds apart, over broken seas, shimmers of glass, shards of memories, summer storms and winter winds, beat between our hearts, the parting ways of two souls, lost across the tides, endlessly fighting to find there way back home. Find your way back to me.

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