Something real
I am shit-scared of trying, something real
no depression, no suicide or pills
nobody to rescue me from myself
or to tie me to something else
I am terrified of something real
no chasing a guy down the street
texting or emailing so we can meet
only to fuck against floors and walls
to convince myself I’m standing tall
Ha. I’m full of shit.
I am terrified of trying, something real
describing how I feel
someone to take my hand
accept me for who I am
and we just come together
like salt and pepper
and then I hurt him
because it becomes boring
and I wind up snoring
or repeating the same story
that it didn’t work out
because I’m looking for something else
you know, because we drifted apart
and he wasn’t a bastard
loved me so much
it suffocated me
plus I’m looking for something else
I’m not sure, just something else
complete compatibility
personality wise
perfection
something like love
but not simple
like love or lust or something
you know, something in the middle
that you solve like a riddle
not what my parents had
because that was settling
that was family and simple
you go to work, you come home
you accept this is the person
you married and get on with it
raise your children
and appreciate that
LIFE IS JUST SIMPLE
no complication
LIFE IS JUST SIMPLE
No, I don’t want that
or do I? No, I don’t
I want something complicated and uncertain
to drive myself insane, so I can cry
and write lots of poems
or talk to my friends about it
to keep me on my toes
passion, oh, yes, passion
or maybe I do want stable
white picket fence
which begs the question
what the fuck am I doing?
because what I’m searching for
may not even exist
but maybe it does
I’m not sure
and all this
while my little girl
is watching, and growing
looking at me and saying, Mummy,
is this what love is, Mummy
I’m not sure what love is
Is it as complicated as what it seems
will I find the man of my dreams?
is that how you love, Mummy?
Because I found this man
but I’m not sure if I can
because he’s kind of boring
and I think I’m snoring
I want more out of life, Mum
I don’t want a simple life, Mum
I’m looking for something else
I’m not sure what, but something
you know, the same thing
that you are looking for, Mum
not something simple
I’d rather just pick my pimples
Mum, what is it you’re looking for again?
Great sex? Oh, okay, well if that’s what love is
I better start, looking.
msdebbie said,
October 23, 2011 at 5:31 am
Very evocative and emotive writing. I relate to that sensation of being full of shit where our fears and desires are competing for attention. The ending makes me a little wistful too – it makes me think how much you would have missed your daughter while writing in Cyprus…
Koraly Dimitriadis said,
October 23, 2011 at 6:07 am
its also just observing families over here that led me to writing this. the divorce rate here is very high, particularly from our generation. more people divorce than stay together, and it makes me sad that our generation find it hard to stay still or have a long term relationship and the ones who pay are the children. having said that i find the generation of my parents here have very simple marriages and dont overcomplicate things. you find someone and you work and you raise your kids. you dont try to change the other person you accept them for who they are and life is kind of simple.