Girl Interrupted

Used to be that girl, “interrupted”.
Never been a patient
in a mental institution,
but often thought I’d fit in
perfectly.

Fed on mush of fairy-tales,
handsome prince on huge
white steed, come to rescue,
to love forever. Still, kinda
hoped that was sort of real.

But real life interrupted. He,
stuck in his own myth, was just
a man, an angry one, who
interrupted life for drinks
with the boys and other women.

And I became a woman alone
proud to be making a real life
with all its unknowable
interruptions.

Elizabeth Crawford  4/14/2018

Note: Image is a pen and ink line weave drawing, overlaid with a water color wash.

Poem is posted at Waiting on Words: Word for Day 14 is interrupt
https://claudetteellinger.wordpress.com

 

 

 

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About 1sojournal

Loves words and language. Dances on paper to her own inner music. Loves to share and keeps several blogs to facilitate that. They can be found here: http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/ https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/ http://claudetteellinger.wordpress.com/
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6 Responses to Girl Interrupted

  1. KUDOS! Loved and can relate to each and every line! Beautiful image, as well.

    Like

  2. annell4 says:

    Yes, life is often interrupted, our plans are spoiled, but if we step back, we can see it is all exactly what was to be expected. We were told not to leave the yard, and what did. We stepped out, to find our fortune, as if it would be waiting. Instead we found life, waiting for us, like a workout at the gym.

    Like

  3. Sherry Marr says:

    I love when that particular story takes a turning and sends us down a liberating path.

    Like

  4. bwarren says:

    I really like the phrase ‘stuck in his own myth,’ and I’m happy that you rescued yourself.

    Like

  5. Marianne says:

    I believe a lot of young women from our generation were fed the mush of fairy-tales, and waited for the arrival of a handsome prince who would love them forever. Only a few were lucky enough to live happily ever after.

    Like

  6. Pamela says:

    I, too, fed the same line of crap. Look at me now, Full of joy. Thanks for writing this.
    Love,
    Pamela

    Like

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