Fury

I wonder what makes me boil so quickly,
I want to believe it is love hence vulnerability,
I would like to think the screams are on you
that admit to poke for a stronger reaction.

I am not sure though if you are right,
that it is way too easy for me to complain,
that I get way too upset way too fast,
that the triggers are multiple and irrelevant.

Maybe I do burn inside with uncontrollable rage,
and you are the closest on my face
or the one trying to get under my skin.

Regardless, wish I could be the bigger man,
that I could listen to sharp knifes and keep my calm,
that I could hold my ground when it is so far gone.

Boob envy

Everyday people see any luck I have as a result of the male world's tendency to fill pretty girls with pleasantries. I wonder where so much boob envy comes from. Is it that hard for men to compete along side women that they have to find excuses for them being there? Or am I really here because I am not ugly nor pee standing? Should I frown at pleasantries and cry the weight of my unlucky days to deserve where I stand? Is my light spirit in any way confused with isotropic flirting and I should walk like a monkey, dress like a nun and smell like a horse to ensure I am not taking advantage of the nice driver that saw me wait for 4 cars before giving me passage out of the parking lot? Is the world that far gone that men don't believe that women could be having different opportunities than men such as different men do, not more, not less, just not the same? Or do all the men in my life feel the impulse to make me smile with an easy gesture and by assuming I receive those from all corners resent me for it instead? Would it be different if I were ugly? Would they petty me instead? Would it be different if I came to work provocative, would I at least get the special treatment and embrace my fast track? Will I ever feel like I deserve my place in the world when I like everyone else own it to my genetics and upbringing as the clay to shape my life and the freedom to hold so many options. I am thankful for my looks, my wit, my happy childhood, my expensive schooling and my challenges. I know I am not here on my own, there is a world behind me and it is called past. It holds each and everyone, mine may have been more fortune than average. And yet, if I can't deserve being here, can you deserve to judge me? You that only pay attention to the pleasantries you witness, you that question my worth based on...what? The assumption that I must have had an easier life? Are you sure you aren't being an unfair prick with a boob envy of the size of my pleasant life? At least I deserve to smile, because I am thankful for my life. You should be thankful too I am sure, and for every men that smiled back making me feel pretty there was another that whistled to me to make me feel uneasy. For every time I got something for free because I am a nice pretty girl, I was looked down by people such as you and considered as just that, just a pretty girl. I am not just a pretty girl, but I won't ever know how much of what I am is a pretty girl, I can tell you that it would be expensive to hire me as an engineer to decorate the room, that it would be pretty pointless to pass me in relativity and cosmology just because I was nice to look at during classes and it would be absolutely ridiculous to have 30 years of academic progress be defined by that. I am sure that if I was an aggressive looking dude I would on average loose on the human flexibility, but the extent of that has to be infamous, just enough to make me smile more often and make you a bitter old guy. So I am indeed a full package, undivisible and self-consistent as it is I have no idea of how much I am worth a side my pretty girl face, but I am surely worth more than you make me feel when you undermine me to such a part.

My heart cries

My heart cries!
I wish I could do the same but life just goes in such a pace it is hard to breath. I know that if I could just start my heart would feel lighter and no longer drown in its own tears.
My heart cries and for as many good things I leave as many good times I had I can't blame it, for these are weary tears for the love I hold dear.

My heart cries!
It sobs at the thought of having hurt you, at having hurt us, at having driven yet another nail to our tears.
My heart cries and will for many years for it doesn't want to let go of what it holds most dear, your love and our life together.

My heart cries!
... silent unseen tears.
It cries for help, it cries for forgiveness, it cries for the hope that we find a way to fix this distance.
My heart cries, yours does too and in the middle of all this a tinnier one fears.
My heart cries with wishes and urgency, for a way to fix before the hole is too deep, before the structure is damaged, before the language is so different our attempts will be lost in its length.

My heart cries!
Because it cares too much to let life stumble on in my hands fast as they go to catch up with the moving sands.
My heart cries because it misses beating at yours speed and feeling it close to mine.
My heart cries because we had something so precious and something as mundane as life is tearing it apart to make up for the constant run to the shop, to work, to the laundry basket, to the dishes, to breath... But what good is air without a heart beat? And hence the crie of my heart, your heart, the one I gave for you to have and you've been parting slowly since.

My heart cries! And yours too!
And in that they find the sync nothing else seems to get and while there are tears shared deeper than our eyes we can fix us and it is not too deep, too broad, too torn, too broken. While mine and your heart long for each other in silence we can mend the spoken words and speak the missing ones and bring forth the healing tears.