You Walk Away

You walk away slowly

as if I could or should stop you.

Nothing can erase the tears that accompany your departure

or change the fact that,

you are walking away

from everything we’ve built.

I can’t …

I can’t leave so easily.

I’m invested

in these kids, this home, this love

that you don’t want anymore.

You walk away

and I watch you with malice filled eyes that should burn

a hole right through

you.

As you step out the door

I hope my words are still ringing in your head;

The same path you take to leave  

may not bring you back.

You walk away

without a backward glance at,

the life you’re leaving behind.

As if vows exchanged, families blended, and shared moments mean

less than nothing.

You walk away

and here I stand.

Humbled and hurt, but not broken.

Turning the lock so,

that I too

can walk away.

Those Days

Most days I love being a woman

I feel glamorous, sexy, and confident.

I’m at my best and I love it.

But on the other sixty days

I am left to wonder                           

why we are called the fairer sex?

I curse breasts, high heels, dresses

 and lament hair that can

only be tamed by high doses of heat and a ponytail holder.

I don’t want to wear perfume, pretty clothes, or carry a purse            

on those days I simply want to live in my favorite pair of pajamas

put on my glasses, wrap my hair in a bun, climb into bed, and read romance novels!

During those days I refuse to even think about healthy eating      

because my four food groups are: salt, chocolate, fat, and ice cream

 But I was born a woman and this is part of the curse so

even though I don’t love it I do accept it and I’m grateful that

 those days only occur occasionally.