What I Thought Love Was as a Child

Barbie was perfect;
perfect hair, perfect legs, perfect smile
Purple roller blades with a purple too-too,
and pink helmet for her girlie upkeep.
She was my ideal woman.

Barbie met up with Ken every day
He was America's idea of an ideal man.
Brown hair, his traffic light shirt and black pants.
No shoes (he was cool like that.)
I'd put them in Barbie's electric VW bug and have them go out into town.

They always had fun.
They would meet up with friends, they would hug and kiss.
Yet in the end, they were never happy.
They'd hate each other and yell.
Barbie would cry and Ken would get frustrated and leave.
Their daily agenda was always different.
The ending the same.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

God vs. Man (My Trusting Problem)

Trust does not come to me willingly. I don't welcome him with a warm embrace. That part of me was not assembled properly. It doesn't compute. Vulnerability: hand in hand with devistation and pure heartache. It's almost inevitable. I feel lower than pond scum, because I treat God like man, believing that there is nothing he can do to fix this, or me. Not believing that he can make life better, because as of now, it's a million spinning plates, and despite how fast I spin one, another one begins to topple. They can't all go at once, and since I can't do it, God must not be able to either. I can't ask for help and trust that it's okay, because that's weakness, and is frowned upon (usually(sometimes(depending(it shouldn't be)))). At church, we sat on stage (The message was spoken from the center of the room). A new perspective. Like our new series, I felt the service done in my heart was new. I could see the entire church ...
Read more

Full Throttle

Brace yourself world! I come full throttle. Like a ninja warrior, sneaky, assertive (but with a feminine style). You might never see me coming. You ambush with ninja stars of soul piercing heart ache, or an occasional  bomb combusts into a ritual of disappointments. However,I've been trained, and  your moves are predictable. I see them coming like distant rain clouds. I'm ready to look you in the eye,and tell you that you're weak. For every event that appears bad in our lives, there is an underlying good, and you've done so well sweeping it under your rug of lies. I can't help but smile. I know that this annoys you world, but my indestructible moves, make me undefeated. While you've made your choice to go against man, I've learned mankind is not  hopeless. Watching you get angry brings me joy, because you've sat and watched me suffer, for as long as I can remember. So now that I'm older, you're not so skilled. The student h...
Read more

Cool Cat Can't Breathe

This is ridiculous. How old are you? Yet you're back on the playground, sweaty palms, and an over-beating heart. The pressure building up in your gut to do something unheard of. uncalled for. Just do it! Will anyone be watching? Crap! Just tell them it's stupid. Then I look like a wimp. I am not a wimp. ... Crap! So I do it. This is not the kid from the playground. She's grown up now. Against my Aunt's wishes, the frilly black death trap incircling my cousin's black dress, clawing and scratching at her neck like a kitten with claws, shaped in a feminine fan, front to back, but formed like a torture device proudly planted by Satan himself, was unstitched from the seems of her dress. The day before her sister's wedding. Take it out Alexa, I won't say that it was you. Her mother, my aunt, repetitively said no, but the advantage of my cousin's wild youth took hold of me and told me yes. So I unstitched it, flawlessly, but ...
Read more