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lydia matisse
lydia matisse is a 19-year-old sophomore at st. edward's university, in austin, texas. a self-proclaimed computer geek, she's been writing poetry since she was 13.

Works on this page:
monday morning
raggedy ann



I think its time to put away all the childish fantasies.
I need to stop believing that one day,
My knight in shining armor will ride up on his beautiful horse,
Lift me up and carry me away.
Because you see with me,
I'm sure it will be quite different.
Some freak will pull up in his beaten up old pinto,
Honking his horn,
And guess who'll be calling shotgun?
I need to stop believing that everyone has a soul mate.
That patience is all you need.
I hate to burst bubbles,
But unless my "soul mate" has been living under a rock,
For his entire life-
I'm sure he'll be taken by the time I meet him thank you.
It's a fierce world you know.
All these girls are like rabid dogs,
Devouring all the good men like puppy treats.
And which I may add these good men
Are coming close to their extinction,
Because everyday hundreds of these poor helpless souls are eaten alive.
If you're not aggressive then just forget about love.
Go make yourself a sock puppet named Bertha,
Begin the only relationship you will have for the rest of your life.
Now look at me,
One day I'm going to fall in love,
Then I will write happy poems.
I'll be rhyming about how my love is like a dove,
And I'll be raving about my sex life
When that day comes,
Shoot me.
I'll eat my words later.
But for the time being,
I need to put away all the childish fantasies. 

Monday Morning

The world doesn't stop
when it belongs to you.
My dad, never called dad.
Papi waving toys in front of
my face to wake me up for school.
When that didn't work,
Lights flicker on and off.
The clatter of pots and pans become
a rhythm like song.
"Andale ya levantate"
Covers are pulled off.
I felt naked,
because I can't hide under Strawberry Ann anymore.
Papas and chorizo.
Smell coming from the kitchen
Sweet sounds as I brush my teeth.
So eager to send me off to school.
All ready.
Silence in the car.
Crossing guards, herds of kids,
resembling herds of cows.
All being motioned,
it's okay to cross the street.
Cross the street and into the barn,
slaughter house more like it.
Where American teachers mold us
into good, robot Americans.
"I pledge allegiance to the flag . . "
Just like everyone else.
School's out.
5:30 pm.
Waiting outside, backpack on the floor,
heart on the floor.
Waiting to be picked up.

Raggedy Ann

I am everybody's Raggedy Ann.
Tossed around and treated like that doll,
That doll,
Always forgotten.
They come to me -
Only when no one else is around.
Hoping I'll bring a temporary escape from their,
The phone rings,
And I'm thrown back into the toy chest.
Buried underneath an army of barbies,
And GI Joes.
Only until someone fails again.
I am everybody's Raggedy Ann.
Raggedy whore.
The boys like me.
They like to learn the female anatomy.
Undress a doll, and look at her.
I please them -
As the sun comes up,
I'm thrown under the bed,
With a sweater lost two years ago.
People come to me when they're lonely.
When I'm lonely,
They're busy,
With the new toys.
Boys come to me.
Lead me on, take me out just long enough,
To give me false hopes.
Making me think, I've finally found the right one,
The right owner.
Only to leave me with stitches and patches,
Holding me together.
From the times my heart has been ripped out,
And from the careless people,
Who throw me around, like an old dishrag.
Pulling me back and forth.
And after all the wear and tear.
I'm still here.
I'm still everybody's Raggedy Ann.

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