Auntie Says...

A Personal Poem of Dark Reality and Angst. Does It Ever Really Go Away? Can You Relate?

One day I was flipping through some notes only to have this poem that I wrote in 2019 jump out at me. The poem doesn’t require any introduction though I hope you enjoy it.

Please like and/or comment below so I know I’m not the only one who has such thoughts. Thanks all. Here it is:

uninvited guest

the reflection doesn’t lie as 
I fluff my hair. flip. spin to see 
the ten I knew was there
I look damn fine. all in place 
together. feeling Confident.
Strong. Ready. to face anything. 
I got this. the world is mine 
amongst the masses is perfection
its not me but i fake fortitude
I exist within my bubble 
of all knowing feigned oblivion
until i'm shrouded in the toxicity 
of weighty stagnant reacquaintance.
i smell her first. 
sour. sweaty. needy. probably
more than a little bit drunk. 
then i see her. nails bit to the quick. 
smudged mascara. 
unshaven pits. dollar store lipstick
greasy and cheap just like her
she wasn't invited on this date.
how'd she get in? 
i swear i locked her away. grappled like 
a bitch to secure the feeble latches.
but here she is
in all her glittery fucking splendor
waiting patiently in the wings
for my attention. waving. 
anxious for the nod. for permission
to come along. i purposely turn away
she's an intruder. unwelcome. 
i want her gone but she clings.
her caustic razor sharp claws dig in
and find their hold. i cringe. deflate.
her name is insecurity 
and she wants to tag along like 
a bothersome little sister
who regurges lies or is it truths?
fills voids with doubts. hesitancy.
she nags, yanks, and clutches at me
until there's no fight left. i cave in
i let her come. she's elated. the incessant 
relentless loop of chitter chatter begins. 
i don't belong. my hair is flat. a ten-
hell maybe a four, on a good day
whispered postulations abound
i’m too fat, this dress is hideous
no one likes me. such a loser. hideous.
can't do anything right. i'm so stupid. 
sometimes i dont know why i bother?
tomorrow. ill look at tomorrow

by faye e arcand

6 thoughts on “A Personal Poem of Dark Reality and Angst. Does It Ever Really Go Away? Can You Relate?”

  1. Well done Feye. You need to start colling yourself a poet. You might not use that form a lot, but in this you have shown you know how to let the passion take the words.
    Well done. (A feel ya.)

    1. Wow! Thank you such kind words. To call myself a poet? Wow with that coming from you, I’m honored. Thank you so much. How about if I promise to try. So glad you stopped by MaryGrace. I think you just made my day. oxox

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