Mistress Sally: Tale of the Compulsive Apologizer
Heather has a Bachelor's Degree in English from Moravian College and has been freelance writing for more than 13 years.
A picture of modern womanhood was to have it all
And still be eager to have more explorations into unknown
An adventurer with the alternating desire to have roots as well
Sally wanted to depict a new story of a fun loving brunette
Putting an end to the fiction that only blondes know how to party
More to the story than what was the color of her hair
Our unassuming heroine appeared to fit the new mythological bill
Confidence, intellect, drive, and a decent job to boot
A sense of humor that cut through the thickest of logs
A nurturing nature and smile that made many safe
Like a protective mother bear who would fight extra hard
For those she cared about the most in the world
Sadly, it's a carefully orchestrated disguise
A security blanket of sorts to keep the wolves at bay
Getting too close to the soft nougat center on the inside
Where her heart and other vital organs lied
Afraid of experiencing too much joy at once
Here today; gone tomorrow without any warning whatsoever
Put trust in the wrong crowd eager to use, abuse and dispose
Of Sally's remains like a crumpled up New York Times from yesterday
Explained why she was sometimes way too gracious with her guests
And even more overly accommodating to her loved ones
Literally giving them the keys to the kingdom for them to become Vikings
Pillaging and laying waste to everything after they were finished
Made constant excuses for the weaknesses of others
Believed that sometimes she wasn't worthy of true love or acceptance
Embraced whatever was given; even if it was bad for her health
An undiscussed anxiety that withered away any potential night's sleep
A mental piranha ravenous to eat away what's left of the appetite
Turned into a knotted mess of extension cords unable to break apart
Needed a miracle who could break through this sailor's induced mess
Apologized constantly for her own needs and desires
When it occasionally conflicted with whoever she was with
Stomach turned into a Wrestler's chokehold out of guilt
Worried too much about what everyone else thought
Whether too many societal boundary lines crossed during conversations
Noticed at least one chalk filled line blurred already by one small footprint
Almost curious to see what two small footprints looked like
Started to not care what the moral police thought about anything
Ready ruffle a few feathers and not worry about ever cleaning them up
Buried the dust pan for good and time to stop being a nervous wreck
The time to stop feeling and saying sorry begins right now
Will it stick? Hard to say.