Poetry

Broken Vessel

/ Hyacinth Hale / Leave a comment
Photo by Anna Chaykovskaya on Pexels.com
I was fractured, and you were supposed to be my healer, 
Instead, you shattered my existence,
Lost, broken, I let you go free, 
So that I would be left somewhat intact, 
I wanted you gone, but you never left my mind, 
Always lurking in the back of it, 
Popping out in the most inconvenient times,

When someone grabs my shoulder from behind, it’s you,
When someone whispers next to me, it’s you, 
Every man that smiles at me, it’s your smile,
When I close my eyes, I see you,
I hesitate to wear my favorite lipstick 
Because you liked it so much,

There is not an inch of my life that you did not slither into, 
Wrap yourself around my throat as I scream, 
Choke what’s left of my dignity out of me, 
And leave the scars to mark me, 
I am enslaved to you even as a free woman 
As you still walk unencumbered,

A decision I made to keep the peace, 
But I’m not sure whose peace, 
Your pieces are still with me, 
And a piece of my flesh will always be 
A trophy on your mantle, 
Something to mount as your victory, your conquest, 
Even though the rest of me escaped, 
A small price to pay for the freedom I have now,

Now, I glue back my broken pieces, 
And figure out how the pieces you left behind fit in,
I am no longer whole without you,
But that does not mean you get to change 
The tides of the water I carry inside, 
Though right now it is dark and stormy,
One day, one day, you will only be a gentle breeze 
That blows through the cracks,
Easily remembered, easily forgotten,
Leaving my life unaffected, 
and the ability to smile and mean it

By Hyacinth Hale

The Secrets We Keep

/ Hyacinth Hale / Leave a comment
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com
The secrets we keep,
Both juicy and sweet,
The poison we hold inside,
Not to infect the naïve and unassuming,
Some for personal gain,
Some for others protection,
We all pay a price,
Some of worth,
And others for no reason
Because the stakes are
So low if only to keep some
Small part of your life to yourself,

Secrets, some were born into them,
 A family filled with skeletons in the closet,
 And webs of lies swaddling innocence,
Others grow into their secrets as
They grow ashamed of their true flawed self,
Some are secret keepers, sin eaters,
Sharing the burden and lightening the load,

One thing we know for sure,
There is a version of ourselves
That not even our closest friends and family know,

Sshhhhh! Careful the secrets you keep,
And those you let loose,
One wreaks havoc on your insides,
The other effects those around us,
And the perception they have of us,
 Though the older I get,
 The more important truth is,
And the less I care what people think of me,
Life is funny that way, 

Still, I will take secrets to the grave,
Leave my loved ones wondering,
Spare them the pain I bore for them,
A painful kindness,
That I never understood
In my elder loved ones,
Until I got older,
Until life weathered me,
Until life carved me,
And gutted me,
And I had to protect
Those who could not
Protect themselves
Including myself,

Let my lips curl,
And my jaw clench,
And my heart heave,
Let the knowing smile
Make people wonder,
I will take the bile,
And churn a secret pearl,
Collect them in a
Roaring stomach ocean,

Too many, and they will claw my insides,
Too many, and some our bound to climb up,
And spew out my mouth,
Out of preservation, out of survival,
Some words, some bile, some pearls,
All secrets, all secrets I have kept
And paid the price,
Some I even swallow again
The price too great not to keep it under wraps
To the grave, to the grave, to the grave I say!


~ By Hyacinth Hale