Through the Gathering Dark

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Wasted Time and Yet..


Red Flag Blind

Ignored it at first

The digs

The whiff of superiority

I could smell

Mixed in with

Your cologne

I must have misheard

The scolding tones

The holier than thou

Haughty looking

Down your nose

It was so subtle

Mixed with the romance

With thinking you

Were the one

And I wanted to believe

You couldn’t be that cruel

Because that meant

I was wrong

I was the useless and weak

Thing you began

To make me out to be

In such small little ways

That would render me

All kinds of fucked up

By the time I woke up

Packed our children

And what could be salvaged

Of my life

And left.

The cruelty

Is still ringing in my ears

All these year later.

Who is the Shit Show?

I was the girl that you

“Saved”

By choosing

I was the “mess”

You took off

My parent’s hands

I was the one

With PTSD

And postpartum depression

I was the one

That needed to

See a shrink

According to you

I was always the shit show

As you looked down

From your perfect

Narcissistic throne

As you spun those

Versions of me

I almost believed it too

But I am the one

That raised our boys

Alone

While you

Drank away

The secret

Lie of who you

Really are

Who is the shit show now?

D-Day Reclaimation

There was so much hanging

Around me unsaid

Vitriol, sadness, rage, relief

But I didn’t utter one word

In the cold marble hall

Outside the courtroom

I was here to reclaim

All that you decimated in me

All the light you hid

Under your dark

Bitterness.

If I could go back

And utter one phrase

It would be this:

“I have come to take

My joy back.

You may not have it

Any longer.”

Frozen to Death

Every time I wanted

affection outside

of the bedroom

and you pulled away

or took my hands from your body

something withered inside

self-doubt crept in

Every time

I did something you deemed

wasteful

and you scolded me like

a child

I could feel ice

cast a chill across my heart

Every time I was made to feel

not quite good enough

as you pointed out my flaws

ways I would never measure up

to your expectations

I died little deaths

until I was a shell of a woman

hiding from you

like a scared child

frigid, frozen, dead inside

plotting my escape.

Mea Culpa My Babies

You were only 8

had already seen too much

We had heard every excuse

and empty promise by then

I am sorry that

I left you back there that night

thinking just this once

I could pretend all was normal

and stay out with friends.

But we knew better didn’t we?

Your eyes begged me not to believe

this sober mirage

Instead you put

your little brother to bed

and sat vigil over

the man passed out

by an open stove

that crackled and spit small embers

never sleeping a wink

you waited for dawn

little boy heart

darkening against the future.

Oh my son, my heart, my boy.

Mea culpa.

Please forgive me.

Palest of Light Before Dawn

Good Bones

There is a fear to being

Left empty

Bereft of all feeling

Cold and colorless

Only echoes resounding in the chambers of the heart

But I know there is a beauty

To such a way of being

Bare right down to

Tendon and bone

Cells stripped

From their scaffolding

Until all that remains

Is the matrix from which to start over.

Smudging

I look back now

no flinching

no ache

nor pain

no longing

nor shame

over

all quiet in my head

and it is time

to rip out

the ink stained pages

that bled from me

as I tried to make sense of it

time to set fire to all those jumbled words

let them go up

in smoke

wind take them

sky claim them

heart let go of them

free.

Allowing Change

Best now

Just to be

Be kind to myself

Be aware

Be courageous

Be wild

Be all I have waited

So long for my own permission

To become...

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