The raw emotions of a woman Read Online Free Page A

escaped.
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    Games we play
    There are a million different ribbons inside of me
all leading back to you, this strange little point shaped like a
locked door, unhinged and inhibited with strange wooden lines. I
want you say the strangers as they walk by this door way made for
one. But none of them know me outside of the entanglements of
sensitivities and outer beliefs that we carry on about, but we
pretend anyways that it is enough, that laughter and joy and
innocence can be the glue in a house instead of hard work and
sacrifice, we pretend because that is what TV commercial’s imply we
do. And we sit there me and this locked door and a million eyes,
all expecting the small simple movement of a turn of the wrist to
let them into this place within myself, that not even I can go. And
I lie simply as we carry on a dance, telling them of fortunes and
exterior political beliefs that I let lay on my tongue, the ones
they teach as lofty principles in school, why hate can be viewed as
love. And I cry as I explain the knives I have used to change my
words so they are acceptable cascading over an untouchable place,
over my naked body and vulnerable inner life, and we all seem to
enjoy that a bit better, without the truth. A game of chasing mice
and cheese into corners. I am in love with you, don’t you know,
says someone casually as I glance away, wishing for a moment that
words were curved instead of straightforward and I nod as if I am
gambling on slots instead of bluffing, as if human bodies were weak
in lust instead of powerful. And we both cascade over each other
like the water does underneath waves. I am wrong I say secretly
like the prisoners as they search for redemption in a new society
where their food and lodging will always be paid for in return for
constant submission. And I smile trying again the locked door in my
mind, finding that I will always remain on the outside.
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    The women in waiting
    I am loved you know women
say during coffee as they gossip about the reason the world
rotates, or when it should stop and who is who when the night
permits itself to change into dawn. And while they sit gossiping
over a table, they remain always ready for adventure by buying
dresses and shoes and beauty marks to become someone at another
party with a different celebration around someone they haven’t been
yet, someone perhaps they are not ready for, the person before the
other person knew itself they would say in tag lines of adages to
explain why they are the one who socially deserves the change the
most, not the other women who have been captured in their parent’s
homes, or worse in a societal dungeon. And they will ring true
empowerment as they run over men, run towards them in desperation
for another person they haven’t yet cocooned into yet, the bite of
love that has tickled them to death in a bath-tub. The because I
told you so that is why I am in love with you moments when men
pretend they are kissing innocent non-agenda children who are
submissive to their labyrinthine of emotions and career. She just
smiles and does what I tell her to, they say in half spoken lies
across locker rooms. I am here you know, the women say casually as
they skim the water a man lays in, touching him with soft spoken
words of faraway places that might peak his interest, lullabies to
the insane as they sit in cubicles typing about the weather. I
might be everything and nothing, the women simply say picking the
verbs and adages that sound nicer. And the men in their hindsight
keep searching. And the women continue to watch them through
windows of coffee shops waiting for the parties and celebration
that never seem to come, wondering what makes a man strong, why are
they never as gullible and frightened as they are.
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    Walls
    The
sing song butterfly that comes around the sick and the hopeless as
they pretend they understand one another again, as they dance in
the streets and they act as if love was a mystery instead of
circle, that five