Sylvie Hill

Mistakes

I don’t get sad about not having had love.
I had it in abundance!
The flowers and love letters!
Words poured out tender!
Vows promised, made!
Rings exchanged!
So many pictures, great sex
and conversations, and those trips.

I don’t get sad about not having had love.
I had so much of it!
By beautiful men
Gorgeous inside and out
Time and time again
So helpful and so generous
Teaching and patient
Side by side
Supportive while it lasted.

I get sad about pushing it all away
Or wanting more than enough.
I get sad about not seeing his proposal…
Or ignoring it as him just being drunk.
I get sad at all the tests
and the hoops
through which I’ve made them hop.
I get sad at pushing them to prove
their love when their commitment
was so obvious!

I get sad that my latest fiercest attachment
was for someone not available to me.
By distance, character, past love, history;
It was the safest place for me to be.
By God writing books about it, even
The non-realness, distance comforted me!

And I have gotten what I wanted:
Nothing. Why, nothing at all, really.
When I used to walk down the street
Two men at once in love with me.
When they used to fetch me from work
Or walk off stages straight for my face
Now no one calls, or addresses me.
And they have all moved on.
Except for two of course
And I wonder how strong
Is the others’ bonds.

I don’t get sad about not having had love.
I had it in abundance!
The flowers and love letters!
Words poured out tender!
Vows promised, made!
Rings exchanged!
So many pictures, great sex
and conversations, and those trips.

I get sad that some of us are born from womb
Not out of love, but anxiety and doom.
And intuitively while I can sense
the touch of a man and his mind
and instinctively while I see
his look of love and his kindness…
That I will forever doubt
it should be for me,
and I fear I will pass him off
to the next girl to be free
of my fear of receiving
or the fear of releasing.

How to be equal with a saviour?
How to seek protection wearing armour?
How to not belittle the grandeur?
How to not be jaded by how all past
Gestures and favours
And fierce love and admiration
that die with a guy once you’ve shunned him.
I’ve gotten what I wanted:
Protection.

…from myself.

Because I am dangerous
Which is why I (m)used.
None other than him
Could handle my ruse.
His heart would not break
My printed words he could take
Vile mind, sharp tongue, a rake
Tough as fuck to my shake.

“I Dare You To Love Me”
the picture said.
Muse 1 sent me a Superman postcard
Saying: “I’ve found the one.”

And inside my body
A void I chose to stake
A womb filled or no –
The outcome and what comes out,

Sadly,

For this woman
Has always felt a mistake,
either way…

Sylvie Hill, December 23, 2018