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The Dalema

Finding The Woman I'm Meant To Be

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A Piece of My Heart

Resisting

I wanted to say
I hope you’re ok
And I understand
Why

I wanted to say
I hope nothing’s changed
And I know you’re not
Lying

I wanted to say
I’ve fallen for you
And you’ve kept me
Smiling

I wanted to say
Not to give up on us
I think we should keep
Trying

I wanted to say
The pressure is off
No more rules or
Expectations

I wanted to say
All is not lost
There’s no need for
Directions

I wanted to say
Take time and space
And I’ll be here
Waiting

I wanted to say
I miss you every day
But I’ll just be
Patient

I wanted to say
All these things
But the right words –
I can’t find them

I want to say
What you won’t say
Now we both remain
Silent.

  • The Dalema. April 10, 2017.
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Two-Dimensional Silhouette 

That’s exactly why it didn’t work.

You don’t fall in love. You walk to it.
Hand in hand, eyes wide open.
You talk about the path you’re taking.
You trust the person to walk the path with you.

And you walk in – together.
Side by side. Hand in hand.
Eyes. Wide. Open.
One chosen step at a time – together.

Otherwise, you’re just walking alone –
following like a shadow.
A shadow they don’t even see.

Shadows fall and shadows fade.
Love walks and never alone.

  • The Dalema. January 16, 2017.

Time Marches On

Moments away from the end,
the beginning of all the pain
Minutes away from losing
all the love we ever made
Seconds away from the silence
that’ll cut deeper than a knife
It’s time for me to tell you
I’m walking out of your life

Moments away from a change
that we can’t ever change back
Minutes away from falling
out of a love you no longer have
Seconds away from the laughter
that hides your initial shock
It’s time for me to love myself
for all the reasons you could not

Moments away from losing me,
you won’t fight for me to stay
Minutes away from saying
the words I never thought I’d say
Seconds away from leaving
the life I fought to build behind
It’s time you see you waited too long –
now we’re out of time.

  • The Dalema. February 2, 2009.

The Squeaky Wheel Gets The Oil

Sometimes I wish I could’ve been more
Often I wonder if I should’ve cared less
I’ll always think you’re out of my league
But today I know you’re still my favorite kiss

Sometimes I wish I could’ve been yours
Often I wonder if it just wasn’t our time
I always think I shouldn’t think of you
But today I know you won’t leave my mind

Sometimes I wish I could’ve seen the ending
Often I wonder if it’s really, truly over
I’ll always think I sabotaged things
But today I know you’re still hurting from her

Sometimes I wish you would’ve tried harder
Often I wonder if maybe you still care
I always think I should date other people
But today I know they’d never begin to compare

Sometimes I wish I could just give you up
Often I hope you’ll be there at my door
I’ll always think what we have is unfinished
But today I don’t think I should think anymore.

-The Dalema. December 29, 2016.

Allow Me To Reintroduce Myself

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.”

– Maya Angelou –

Purposefully misspelled, I created ‘The Dalema’ from letters in my name. It’s a safe place for me to breathe. A place to unload the built-up and untold opinions, emotions, situations and short stories – the baggage I’ve been carrying around with me every day of my life.

I started writing when I was seven. I was on a plane for the first time, traveling from New York to Oregon with my grandma to visit my uncle. She gave me the gift of paper and my uncle gave me the gift of poetry. Together they gave me the gift of writing.

Escaping my body through the pen in my hand and camouflaging themselves as ink on stationary, I realized words had become my tears, my laughter – my screams. Only then did I realize I could start to understand my emotions if I wrote them down. Every day since, my life story has been accumulating on paper.

I’ve learned I’m a hopelessly romantic cynic, a realistic dreamer – a millennial with an old soul. I’m an outgoing introvert who’s insecurely confident. I’m a woman trying to be better than the girl I was meant to be.

Writing is the only way I know to lift the weight of the world off of my chest so I can breathe. The Dalema is my life. The Dalema is my story, untold. Follow along as I get through it – one post at a time.

  • The Dalema

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