She who wears the crown

Smile easily,

Follow the intricately laid plan.

No deviations, no tears.

Hold it together.

Picture perfect Instagram story.

Choose words wisely,

The crown must not tip,

Your smile must stay sincere.

Not one line or hair out of place.

Do as expected,

You are not allowed

Feelings, choices, thought.

Unappreciated, rhythmic routine to stay sane.

Used, let the feelings stay in your heart-

Never let them show.

Heart shatters inside.

Mind, body and spirit screaming,

Heart aching for a happier time.

Not time yet.

Must maintain.

Must maintain.

Written by Tabatha Goughneour , June 2019

Mask

Smile behind the mask

In a sea of plain expressions.

Fake laughs color the walls,

The paint peeling from injections.

A party designed to impress,

Hide the darkness,

Paint over the rust,

Put on your best dress,

The wall hides your beauty,

Flirt with the masses he must.

Waterproof mascara,

Is a girls true best friend.

A ring on a finger or two,

A paper signed.

Oaths and vows.

One heart blinded by love,

One with an agenda, drunken lies.

Excel spreadsheet life.

Lies,

Hold the mask on tight.

Loving heart in a dark molded room.

Breaks the chains-

Free thoughts

Free mind.

Smile, laugh and gain inner happiness

For the first time in years.

Mask held on with sweat and tears,

Gripped with tired hands,

In a room with newfound light and colors.

Heart full, eyes fully see.

Deviation to spreadsheet

Changed everything.

Made one better,

The other showed colors of truth.

Never the same again.

Written by Tabatha Goughneour June 2019

The one that got away..

Slipped right through,

Time’s click on the clock

Should have been the hour hand,

Not the minute hand.

Opportunity for a real love

Beyond expectations

In a life full of love, hope, passion.

Too fast, time passed right on by.

Quiet moments that shall have been loud,

Full of music, cups of coffee, poetry nights at Old Bayleys.

Forbidden, fear of rejection, bad timing.

The biggest regrets plague hearts.

Two hearts that would have been one.

One.

One beating, rhythmic heart in two bodies.

Forever.

Written by: Tabatha Goughneour , 2019

Painting: Salvador Dali

Forbidden dreams

Forbidden are the dreams that taunt us,

Luring us into sinful thoughts.

A lover’s kiss,

Momentary bliss

That leaves the taste of joy on one’s lips.

A lasting taste that lingers for days,

Pressing lips upon skin

In places only dreams can reveal.

Embarrassed, inability to talk

As memory serves delicious playback

Of a good night’s dream.

Forbidden.

Only living in the subconscious,

Beckoning them back for more.

Written by Tabatha Goughneour, 2019

Pier 49

The waves slosh across the sand,

Making soft innocent sand harden.

Our sand.

Sand that filled every empty space between your fingers,

As you showed me the seashell beneath.

The waves crash against the rocky caverns beside me,

Echoing so loud my body trembles at the sound.

Our caverns.

Shallow water covering the ground

Like an inviting blanket of sin.

Beckoning is in that night out of the storm.

“Let’s seek shelter there”

You murmur,

Cold hands gripping mine.

We talked til the morning sun dried up

All the puddles outside,

Every crystal within the sand

Proudly shining to meet the sun’s rays.

Proud.

Proudly we walked hand in hand,

Unafraid of our new found love.

All the sailboats and tourists,

Lined up nicely in a row.

Cameras out for a big show.

Behind the caverns,

Where the moss covered green

Covers the rocks like a bad painting,

You kiss me gently.

Gently, like the crab who pitter patters beside me.

He fills this emptiness with his sound.

The sun on my skin warms my heart,

Deep down it dries my sadness

As it welcomes a brighter day.

A time forgotten.

Kisses, laughter, innocent moments

Of first loves still framed memories.

The waves crash quietly into my toes,

Reminding me it’s time to leave.

Leave my sad thoughts to sea,

Like you left me.

By: Tabatha Goughneour 2019

Sleeping near sunshine

Falling asleep next to him,

Holding his little hand close to my heart,

Fills me with happy tears.

I move my hand away to let his little arm rest on his side,

He grabs for my hand again.

His long blonde hair falling over his shoulders,

So soft to the touch.

I can’t contain my emotions,

Clear as day falling to my shirt.

I have never knew love like the love for a child,

This child..

That I created and who changed my life forever,

This happy ray of sunshine,

Who can turn any frown into a smile,

And who has the biggest most beautiful heart.

His little chest rising and falling with each breath,

His smile from time to time tells me

Of his dreams of adventure and happiness.

I soak these moments in,

Feelings his little hand in mine,

Brushing his hair from his face,

Hugging him tight because I know,

Soon he will be too big to hold my hand.

Too big to want to snuggle.

Every

Single

Moment

Is beautiful with him in my life.

I will never take him for granted.

My path, a poem by Tabatha

Slick wet vines leading to the garden of opportunity,

Here and there is a thorn,

Remnants of the rose bush that once grew there.

The rose bush that tore my pant legs,

Sneaking out to freedom in my youth.

I could climb the vines to the other side,

Or I could dig beneath where the twisted roots lie.

One is full of pain but worthwhile,

The other is easy but tricky to navigate.

The twisted roots are full of memories,

That drag me into their web of uncertainty,

Lies upon lies..

That have built around each other over time.

I chose the path that is harder,

One where I must be agile and quick witted,

Believe in my abilities and let the slick wet vine slip from time to time,

Because that is humility..

It means I am human.

The sun and green grass are visible,

Just beyond my reach.

My heart is young and fragile.

I must make it unbreakable and solid,

If I will survive among the rough seas?

Of the new life I have chosen.

I am reminded of the rose bush and my childhood,

Never taking the easy way out,

Pushing through whatever came my way.

Using this as motivation I get passed the first bundle of vines,

Slipping each time I doubt myself.

After forever it seems,

My face is warmed by the sun,

My body aches but my heart smiles.

What adventure awaits?

We shall see!

(C) Tabatha Goughneour, written weeks before joining the Navy