Prose Poem: Lover or Not – Mykie Writes It

Since I’ve been ill, starting with COVID in mid-March, I’ve had difficulty writing and editing. Of all the stuff I’ve attempted, this one feels the closest to being something, yet I’m not entirely sure I’ve managed to capture everything I hoped.

I’ve even been having a hard time listening to audio books and the like, though I’ve managed to get through a couple of books while knitting or hiding under a pile of cold packs in an attempt to get my migraines under control. I may try to review one for the second post of July.

If you’ll allow me a little aside and some shameless self promotion, I’m also thrilled to share that I was nominated for a WEGO Health Award for Best in Show: Blog (for The Zebra Pit) and Best in Show: Facebook (for my TZP Health and Wellness Social Learning Group). The WEGO Health Awards are all about celebrating patient advocates who dedicate their time to helping others with chronic illness. At The Zebra Pit, we’re all about supporting patients and helping them to achieve their best life with chronic illness. I am so proud to be nominated and recognized by the chronic illness community for my work. Endorsements are an important step in making my way to the finals. I would love to get your support and it only takes a minute to accomplish. Just go to my WEGO Health Awards profile and click endorse! Thank you in advance for your support.

Returning our thoughts back to the poem, I would love to get some specific feedback on this one. Don’t hold back. Let me know what you think in the comments! I’m especially not married to the title. I’m also curious whether I get my point across and it’s clear what’s happening to the characters. All interpretations are welcome! As always, thanks so much for providing your input! It’s invaluable to my work.

Lover or Not

The moment that I met you, I grew obsessed with your form, and your quiet countenance seemed a harbor from the storm. Body long and thin, arms lithe as a willow, I sheltered beneath your branches, your trunk became my pillow. You knew my feelings were stronger than yours. You took no advantage, offered me a platonic sort of love. I hid away from life beneath your gently swaying branches. But life knows no bounds and soon someone else came along. You knew he could cause me great injury, this stranger who lied with body and tongue. Not knowing what else to do, you attempted to seduce him and bring to light his sexual ruse. You had the tool to win, or so you thought. Tables turned, my love for you did rot. All to prove what I’d already known. Men cannot be trusted, lover or not.

by Michelle Beltano Curtis

All rights reserved. “Lover or Not” may not be reprinted without permission of the author.

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