Saturday, 24 March 2012


I have a confession
to make
so, for my sake
and your own,
let it be known.

It feels somehow
Like that silence,
between old friends
trying to make amends,
but not sure
where to start
because that’s the hardest part:
where to start?

As I sit here
trying to find the words,
it’s like extracting teeth,
pulling at my beliefs,
because I realise
that my eyes
only see
what they want to,
and that my idea
of me
is only
in view,
and you know it,
but we don’t talk about it,
do we?

We are dolphins,
caught on a line
with the tuna in brine
hook, line and sinker
hoodwinked and blinkered.

This perversion of truth
that invaded my youth
sinking in
it’s ugly claws,
tearing into
my so-called flaws.
This vicious, jealous,
spiteful beast,
that likes to feast
on what’s real,
our true beauty
false perception...
and we call it what?
This revolting,
self-constructed thing
that keeps us in
a box,
like Pandora
and her locks.

We build a perfect
and we sit in it.
pile of shit.
and the best bit?
It doesn’t even exist!

So, my confession?
I am
with imperfections.
I've developed
a false identity
a perception
of ‘me’,
a partial reality.

I’ve built walls
so high,
that I
cannot be fully seen,
only behind the
of a few
well-placed windows
showing just half
of my face.
And, on the other side,
I hide
the cuts,
like ruts,
Repeated attempts
to self-destruct.
so angry that I’m angry,
so ashamed of being ashamed,
a sense of blame,
silencing pain.

Can’t find the words to communicate,
I hate
to be seen as weak.
I am afraid
of being
in my distortions
of proportions.
I am cowering
in the dark,
by the restrictive
of perfection.

my confession?
I am learning to dance
with the devil,
I’ve found
that this is fertile ground -
for there is no such thing
as sin;
That every bit
of shit
is an opportunity to grow,
and I know
that I can open the window
to let light in
so, the dark
is just another part
of my soul,
it makes me whole.
And, the wall
can fall,
and I can reach out my hand
because you
will understand
because you’ve been hiding, too.
Let’s Connect
to that old friend;
make amends,
start a dialogue
Accept the dark side.
Let us start with the
awkward part;
the part that’s
imperfectly real,
the part we feel.
Let us start
to talk about
the self-doubt.

Undo the locks,
Open the box,
Kick down
the wall,
Be willing
to fall.
Let us tear
the blinkers
from our eyes,
for the treasure lies
in truth.

Lily Laloba 23rd March 2012

1 comment:

  1. this is so true Lily. I love it. I'm also learning to be a lover of imperfection, vulnerability and ugliness all inside me. Because it makes us all so close, real and loving. xxx Love to you both and to my beloved copper tierra magica xx