Not Close Enough

Not Close Enough

I am a muddled mess of imperfection

            A hazy husk of a woman

With small dreams unachievable

            I lay awake at night

In pleasant slumber do I find my only solace

            Waiting for it to appear

Here it comes,

            Bared teeth

                        Ruthless to it’s impervious soul

It bites down hard

            Reality has once again hit me

It whispers of longing death

            A dark foul creature

You know nothing,

            It whispers

You are nothing

            It reminds

I am alone

            And yet, immersed in dread

                        Filled with fear

                                    From the demons in my head

I am. I have been. I will be.

I am. I have been. I will be.

I am an ocean with no sea-life

                No fish nor aqua living creature

I am a boat empty with no crew aboard

                No one manning the sails, nor tending the amidship

I am a home with no tenant

                No living on grounds

I am a wandering stranger

                Held by painful ambition

                                I join a league of nations,

                                                Silent and still

                Drowning in a sea of school debt

I join the faceless, numberless horde

                Swamped with desire

Now,

                I am a woman

                                With tremendous soul

Flawed and faulty,

                I have been naïve and too trusting

I have loved many and been loved by less

                I am my own sword, sharp and fierce

I am new;

                With dents and cracks aglow

I am prisoner to fantasies of greatness

                Lashed amongst painful despair

I am a soldier with wounded ambition

                I am a woman, strong and willing

I am a survivor

                With matching scars

I am a daughter to many

                A friend to some

I am an outcast, a pariah:

                A loner, a misfit

                                With no true tribe

I may be all these

                But there is no doubt that I am also

My Dad’s daughter with shared hazel eye,

                Or my mother’s friend with black fading hair

I am true to my clan,

                With Gaelic beginning,

                                Te Deum laudamus!

I am a scholarly student

                An academic hungry to learn

It is neither here nor there what I have been

                Or what I have done

                                And what I presently feel

But rather,

I am eager to begin a brand new something

                With opportunities plenty!

I think I’ll start tomorrow!