We sit together on the couch
Watching a movie, we’ve both seen countless times
It’s a slow movie
And I find my mind takes small breaks
It fades in and out
I find myself stealing quick glances at her
She has beauty
Even as we sit in this dark room
Her prettiness shines like a supernova
But, more often than not
She wears a frown
She has demons
She has hidden secrets
The ones she never talks about
The ones I never ask her about
And she likes it that way
The fact that I don’t pry
And I like it that way
She leans to me, rests her head on my shoulder
She knows she’s safe here
This is a place she can forget about the demons
And she knows I’ll do her no harm
We’ve seen this movie, so many times
And while I’ve grown tired of seeing it
In this present moment
It’s the best movie
I have ever seen
© Dicky J Loweman 2015
That is so lovely. I wish I had something so safe and secure, but I’m always so trapped in them it’s hard to escape.
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That must be hard. It all comes down to finding someone to trust. At least that’s what she says. Keep looking, you’ll find it.
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My husband does that to a point, but never completely.
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Maybe he needs to be told?
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No. He tries.he knows. It’s me that is broken. Deeply. I barely leave the house because of it. And it didn’t help that my therapist created an unhealthy association of my past with him, so it made it worse. (I have severe ptsd)
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So sorry to hear that. I guess all you can do is work at, each day, with the goal to make it a bit better.
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Thank you. Yes. I try. But I really miss feeling safe. 😊
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I wish I could help you. Maybe you need to call on an old friend? That’s what I do.
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I will try that. Thank you! 😊
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I hope it helps.
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If I can see him, my best friend always helps. He just lives a little ways away.
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Roadtrips. Always worth the drive.
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Yes indeed!
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Guys aren’t known for being good at picking up on the little things…
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this is a sweet one
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Thanks. This one is part 3 of 3:
1. Breakfast W/The Girl
2. Depression
3. A Movie I’ve Grown Tired Of…
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I was thinking that. I do hope you share them with her. I had someone write for me once, a long time ago, and it was something I was rather fond of. Even if some of the poems were not so flattering towards the end. I still dug em….
I mean if it is right to share them, sometimes you just know its not.
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She has the originals. These were all done while she was around. I read and gave them to her after I completed all three. She has them framed and hanging in her kitchen.
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I can’t say I’m not a little jealous, for its been a long time since anyone wrote anything for me. But that is probably for the best. I tend to fall too hard for writers, and then the fear kicks in and I want to bolt.
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People probably have written about you, but they didn’t tell you. It might even happen more than you think. Everyone has at least one secret admirer. And most of the time we never find out about it.
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