Saturday, October 12, 2013

art from wire hangers

I wasn't the kind of girl you wanted;
didn't want a girl at all, I guess.
Still, here I am--
a pretty smart, pretty funny, pretty different, pretty mess.
Gin didn't kill me;
I lived to tell.
Learned from thin air
to care for others and myself.

I'm my own kind of girl.
Your loss. 
_________

a day late for Fireblossom Friday and  G Man's Friday 55 

21 comments:

TexWisGirl said...

i like it.

Mama Zen said...

Perfect.

Kathryn said...

Their loss indeed.

Sam Edge said...

Nailed it

hedgewitch said...

What is this, a contest for the shortest comment? This poem deserves more than a word, though in it's brutal brevity it does seem to evoke a certain terseness in return. Sometimes things can become clarified and distilled yet remain layered and intricate, as the emotions and events here--this tells the story of a life; all that matters in the end is in the last few lines. Pungent and excellent, Shay.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Yes, "your loss". The journey of the unloved child is to learn how to care for oneself, for certain. A big turning point. I LOVE "I'm my own kind of girl. Your loss."

G-Man said...

Yeah...
You tell em Sistah.
And if anybody tries any funny business, you show em the back of your hand.
NOBODY messes around with 'The Blossom'...Got it?
Loved your Tough Girl 55 Shay
But we all know that underneath that rough exterior, is a rough interior...:P
And a mind of a poetic genius!
Thanks for playing, and have a Kick Ass Week-End...Go Tigers!

Kay L. Davies said...

Right on the money, Shay. Great stuff.
K

L. Edgar Otto said...

What a great photo to this poem for all who may appreciate the depth and what the world gives back should we try climbing up the mountain to learn to care, even from mistakes, others and ourselves. That girl in the photo with her cool control of fire I admire because she suggests we all should have her low tolerance for BS.

And thank you Fireblossom, for what it may be worth...

kaykuala said...

Yes, sock it to them! They should be made to realize what they are missing! Nicely Fireblossom!

Hank

Margaret said...

...yes, it reads tough. But this kind of toughness is often born from someone who did care a great deal... and suffered for it. I don't understand the title, but that is OK.

... here I am all "heavy" feeling and I look up and see Catblossom ready for Fall in her "magic" scarf. ha ha

Hannah said...

Sometimes that's the only reserves we have to draw from to learn...

Lydia said...

Her loss most definitely. Anyone in recovery would understand and applaud this poem, Shay.

Sioux said...

It is/was/would be her loss. No doubt about it.

Yeah, those last two lines were a kicker...An ass-kicker...

myinnerchick.com said...

Wine didn't kill me either...

but your words do. LOVE!

Roselie May said...

Your loss indeed.Lovely poem in it's brevity it carries a direct message. Love the picture!

Cloudia said...

Wonderful companion to my less good poiem/post today!

Shay Shay - gone away. Hope you are busy with fragrant fun- not mererlycoping with shortening light-lethargy, Dear.



Aloha

Daryl said...

our gain! a superb human being/woman!!!!

Kerry O'Connor said...

This says a whole lot in 55 words. Redemption of self is really all that matters.

grapeling said...

Ha, Hedgewitch's comment about brief comments cracked me up.

I especially like the 'pretty' line, and how you twist the last pairing- another demonstration of your assured narrative voice.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Quietly triumphant.