Letting Go is Complicated

This confined life – carefully construed – ingrains order, commands discipline. I can free myself from urbanity, declare adventure as prerogative, but how long before I release the need for control, unburden internal restraints let go, and open to divine rhythms? Doubt I possess the trust required to live with such uncertainty. (Submitted for Twenty […]

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Father

Played us with hopeful promises – glimpses of calm – our tyrant father. (Added for Fandago’s Daily prompt: Control) (Written for Ronovan’s Weekly Haiku Challenge #2 Hope/Tyrant)

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Daughters

You think we don’t know what happens in the darkest hours; that somehow slumber blankets, plunges us into oblivion…. The same slamming of fists that awakens you, alerts, drags us from deepest sleep, thrust into the violence No amount of denial shields from the trail of bloody droplets, witnessing his arm on your throat, threatening….always […]

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The Drive Behind the Quest

I was nine, when I first asked God to let me die: I’d had enough of life. By the time I was fifteen, I was pleading: “Really, God. I am happy with all the experiences I’ve had. You can bring me home now.” Once I realized that my mortality (suicide aside) was not negotiable, and […]

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Day 185 “The Desire to Control”

In the bedroom, my mother is trying to settle the baby.  I am in the kitchen trying to clean up when a gust of wind, followed by a wall of water hits me.  The floor around me is quickly filling up with this flood of elements and I push my way through to find the […]

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Path Rights

Born underweight, and with a hole in her heart, my oldest sister seemed doomed from the start.   By the time I was born, her condition had deteriorated, and she spent most of her time in hospital.  My parents were told to expect the worst.  Open-heart surgery was the great new procedure that saved her life […]

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Abuse and Money

I arrived home from school one day to find my mother sitting in a corner trembling, her face face blotched red and swollen from crying.  “Mom?” The eyes that stared back at me were distant.  This was not my mother.  I took stock of the situation.  It was 3:15.  My little sister would be home […]

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