A Sister’s Sin

Patience does not apply
in a family lacking ease,
nor is loyalty gifted…

my sister – a fiery red
corvette fuelled by hate
would slaughter kin

lived for the fight,
gleaned energy from
sinful behaviours

despite hard-work,
tasted power in attracting
meat – a fleshy cow –

processed sweethearts
with abandonment,
hardly caring, despised

public scrutiny – her world
a miniscule burlesque show
fluttering raw flesh inviting

scavengers – appeased out of
necessity – she shopped crowds,
possessed a light that shouted:

“Open for business” – dared
not endure loneliness, desperate
to annihilate the past –

her heart, a massive-winged
avenger, pummelled by
the memories of a brother

her twin – torn from her
by a deserting father – left
dying like an unwanted pest

an agonizing plummet
into an unendurable darkness
from which she sought any

infiltration, yearning to
pierce, to relieve, the musty
hold of her ground-up reality:

no virtue in patience,
no prize in loyalty
each woman for herself

(Image: insanityismyreality.deviantart.com)

Water Damage

The rains finally arrived,
accompanied by tremors,
in the autumn of my thirty-second year.

Torrential floods
of pent up fear and emotion,
unleashed for weeks on end.

In my state of brokenness,
I felt the sorrow of
thousands of women –

oppression, rage, disappointment, hell.

It’s been years now,
yet pools of tears still lie,
stagnant, breeding insects,
mutant bugs with segmented bodies,
struggling to stay alive.

I crush them – try to stamp them out,
but they reappear,
unexpectedly, driven
to what purpose I do not know.

I have conformed, cleansed, repented, prayed.

Yet the sorrow comes
in waves of terror,
reminders of the past.

Worry not for me,
but for the children,
whose innocence is tainted
by horrors unknown,
who pay the price
of my victimhood.

Confused, removed, they suffer unwittingly.

Pray for release, for salvation,
pray for understanding and redemption,
pray that we may all, once again,
breathe.