Dirty Face

She feels the pure white dress.
Silk under her fingers.
Waves crush in.
Sun slides below the horizon.

She’s stuck.
Everything ties her down.
The music can’t even pull her up.

“Close your eyes”
Voices in her head.
Obeying;
Things go dark
.
Water, Voices, Music.
She focuses.
Swoosh, Splish.
The water is all she hears.

Her fist is clenched.
What brought her here?

She fears it all,
Every pain.
Begging it all to go away.
Why can’t she be strong?
Tears that she’s held drown her.

She knows she has a purpose.
There’s a reason for everything.
But they keep asking why.
The voices in her head;
All swirled together with the water’s bliss

For the first time the woman’s voice is calm.
But the man’s is terrifying.
His song is slow, taunting, almost like he wants to drift away.
But he’s always been her strength.
She needs him.

Now she pictures her love,
Someone she feels she needs.
His heart beats close to her.
She can hear it,
Like her head is pressed to his chest.
But this time she’s alone.

Alone.
Her wish sometimes,
Her horror others.

The sand is packed beneath her feet,
Cold, as the warmth of the sun falls away.
Tears meet with the satin dress,
And goose-bumps cover her skin.
She knows someone is watching.
Yet she feels so alone.

Wondering what they see,
She opens her eyes.
Red lips, Blond curls, White dress.
All of the visible characteristics of her on this night.
But she can build a high bridge, that shadows her true identity.

The loss
The bruises
The tears.

All in the past.
All what she wants to hide.

The terror
The fear
The pain

All now
All breaking her.

A sliver of a moon appears.
The stars not yet out.
Her eyes blur with tears,
As she tries to see the sky.

He’s up there, somewhere.
He watches her.
Fathers her from above.

The questions all come in strides.
Mostly why’s.
Grieving is something she never got the hang of.
Maybe if she had she’d know how to move on.

Her dream is to walk through the cemetery and know how to feel.
Should she cry, or scream, or lay down and give in.
She wants to do them all.

But now she’s here,
Standing on a beach,
In her dream silk dress.
Not her wedding dress.
But her summer dress.

Summer is the season for white,
And her season for searching.
The season she’s leaving everything behind,
To find who she is.

But the first bit of her journey begins with letting go.
She stands with her feet in the sand,
her fists clenched around her skirt,
Staring at the sky.

Not knowing how to let go.
How to release the pain of losing her dad,
Fearing her life,
Or shadowing it all through the years.

But here is where she’ll stay,
Cold, crying, and scared
Until she can let go.
She’ll let the sea wash her dirty face.

Then, and only then, will she create a new, clean, worry-free woman.
This woman won’t need anything but herself.
She’ll love unconditionally the man she’s already chosen
She’ll never judge another soul.
She’ll embrace her past,
And her life to come.

And she’ll be strong.



This is a poem I wrote, but I'm not sure I like. I like the end, not so much the beginning. Maybe because I'm in the beginning with how I feel. Though I want to be in the end, letting go. Washing my 'dirty face'.