Monday, August 4, 2014


©Don't Fly Naked
Mimi Wolske,  2008
All Rights Reserved
Mimi Wolske – Mona Arizona™

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He said it was over
Over! It wasn’t her,
He promised, it was him,
Nothing planned, not a whim.

A darkness, a void,
Leaving her hurt, annoyed;
A place without reason;
Melancholy just begun.

Words echoing, repeating,
She knew he’d been cheating,
“No, there’s no one else;
It’s not about you.” Helpless,

Useless, worthless, pointless;
She wasn’t blameless,
She couldn’t be, why
Else leave? Why not try?

“Please,” her voice pleaded,
“Can’t we still be friends?”
A sympathetic gaze!
The kind that betrays.

“Silent friends,” his words
Would register afterwards.
“I like you, but I don’t love you.”
God! He meant to eschew

Her! How could she go on?
How long would he be gone
Before her heart might mend?
Before she could pretend?

Despair, like a magnet,
Pulled. Later she’d regret
Her acts of jealousy,
The many times she was angry.

She’d given herself, naked,
To him when they bedded.
Exposed just enough to hold him.
Her future looked so grim.

She wanted to yell, cry,
But she couldn’t deny
He was out of her life.
She’d not be his wife.

Well, neither would any woman!
She’d wait. She’d take action
Against any female suspect!
Each new girl she’d dissect!

She’d expose all their flaws,
Hopefully give him pause
To see only she could love
Him! She’d rise above

His foolish games of lust.
He’d be sorry! His calloused
Soul could rot in hell
Before she’d tell him farewell.

What was wrong with her?
Why did men avoid her?
Why did women ignore her?
Why had all forsaken her?

Why couldn’t her life
Be without strife?
Why must she always fight
When she knew she was right?

Whose arms would hold him now?
Which woman would he allow
To enter his world, enjoy
Him as she had? Her ploy

Would make him regret leaving
Her. Soon he’d be grieving,
Wanting her to return.
Ahh, then him she would spurn!
Despair is primarily as a psychospiritual crisis, a prolonged "dark night of the soul. We have all felt despair during difficult periods in our lives. We may occasionally despair about our job, marriage, love life, family, finances, world events, etc. But typically this despair dissipates in time, and life goes on. At least till the next crisis. When despair doesn't dissipate but rather deepens, hunkers down, takes control and becomes chronic, diminishing quality of life, impairing functioning, and keeping us from moving toward our goals, dreams, and desires, it has become pathological. It’s difficult to conceptualize the profound and existential hopelessness, helplessness, powerlessness and pessimism about life and the future and the deep discouragement and loss of faith about one's ability to find meaning, fulfillment and happiness when I have never felt this. I’ve witnessed it, I’ve read about it, I’ve researched it just a little…enough, I hope, to do this poem justice.

Printed and Posted 15th June 2008 by Mimi Wolske