Meh...Love...

I’ve Been Framed

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They always paint a pretty picture at first.

Then, they say I’m snarling, not smiling.

They identify the fire brewing behind my eyes as evil instead of passion.

They acknowledge my pride as a huge chip on my shoulder.

My stance suddenly screams conflict, not strength.

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Everyone knows my name.

Everyone thinks they know who I am.

Everyone claims I’ve abused them.

Everyone has been a victim.

Everyone defines who I am.

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She says I hurt on all levels.

When her sister was born, I abandoned her.

When her best friend sauntered in, I ran.

When her husband sent her to the ER, I hid.

When her child ran away, I was in his suitcase.

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It is not my fault,

The crimes people do in my name.

All are ready to avoid the blame

So it’s added to my rap sheet,

Filed under my offences.

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He says I am elusive.

When girls played on his good intentions, I deceived.

When she told him the child was his, I proved his trust wrong.

When they said, “I do,” and she didn’t, I misled him.

When the real thing stares him down, I confuse him.

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My name is spoken in hushed whispers.

It brings fear, reluctantly.

The perversion of my personality has tarnished my reputation.

Most people say they know my face.

Apparently, I have multiple impersonators.

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I do not hate you.

I do not run from you.

I do not damage you.

I do not push you away.

I do not destroy.

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I can help you see strength in vulnerability.

I can help you survive your greatest loss.

I can give you the confidence you didn’t know you had.

If you trust in who you know me to be,

If you deny the outrageously false accusations against me

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You can call me by my name

LOVE.

Copyright © 2009 Natasha Guy

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“Love should never hurt, but with the twisted way we mutilate its purpose, it has to protect itself.”

(Me)

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So many things are done in the name of Love. People betray, they abuse and they justify lies. Love is so often associated with the feelings of hurt and pain, it’s a wonder that anyone believes in her purity at all. I can almost see Love like the pregnant Virgin Mary, innocent, but looking guilty as sin. Everyone points and stares; whispers fill the air at the very mention of Love. While plenty of folks will say they had Love at one time, or thought they did, just as many will say she’s an elusive entity. Lately, her image has been so marred and tarnished that I wonder how many still think she actually exists.

I am one of the few that believe in the true form of Love still being out there somewhere. Even with my strong grip on hope, I find myself doubting her existence from time to time. Each time I was cheated on, each time I was lied to, each time I gave my all and remained unfulfilled…I found myself questioning Love’s tangible existence versus her ideal. At one point, I fought to remain jaded in efforts to protect myself. Obviously, that didn’t work for too long.

Most people have faced a lopsided Love at some point. Either you have liked someone beyond their feelings, or you have earned someone else’s unsolicited affections. It is uncomfortable for both parties. However, it seems best to do the hardest thing in these situations: face reality and tell the truth!! If you are receiving undesired affection, let the giver know as softly as possible, but in no uncertain terms, how you do or do not feel. The longer it goes on, the more hurt will be involved.

I believe that everyone has their own idea of what true Love looks like. So with that in mind, we should all be looking for someone who shares our idea of what Love is supposed to look like. The trouble starts when one person loves and the other only tolerates. Trouble also shows up when two people with different definitions of Love try to build a bridge that will never connect. Eventually, our bridges may line up side by side, but they will never match up enough to create one solid bridge. We both end up with more of a piece of a pier than a completed bridge. We can either take our respective piers peacefully to find the perfect mates, destroy each other’s piers out of frustration and blame, or sit on the ends of our piers reviewing screwed up calculations and wondering how we got there.

I say all that to make one final point. When the Love boat finally comes in, I’ll have plenty of piers where it can dock and I’ll have one completed bridge, so we can get back to the mainland after my true love and I cruise the waters.

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Puppet Master

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I stare at the back of your head without blinking.

You’re so used to it at this point that you are no longer disturbed.

My eyes, they haven’t blinked in weeks.

The dry dust gathering on my body is testimony.

You have moved on.

I wish I could.

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You are the puppet master.

You pulled my strings.

You were amused by the little dance I did.

You tangled my strings.

You didn’t have the patience to untie them.

You deemed me useless.

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The joy you found in toying with every part of me,

You, no doubt, have found in others now.

Their painted smiles and rosy cheeks comfort you.

My features hold true for you, despite the dust I’ve collected.

I slump over in the dark corner of the cobwebbed shelf.

Without your attention and energy, I am lifeless.

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I am the discarded wooden marionette.

I have knotted strings restricting my movement.

I long to bring you pleasure.

I witness your acts with imposters.

I feel abandoned.

I have lost my purpose.

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I wanted to become your Pinocchio.

I was willing to face real emotions for you.

I mistook you to be my Geppetto.

My strings they bind me…to you.

My hollow body longs to house a beating heart.

My existence was defined through you.

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Copyright © 2009 Natasha Guy