Tag: nonfiction

Re-Righting the Past

Wittingly, I engage in flirtations
hoping to purge self-loathing
wanting to escape this prison,
protective instincts set aside.

Men hold such appeal for me –
strong muscular machismo
distorting intentions, civility,
with smooth talking hands.

My perceptions toyed with
I succumb, despite myself,
sexually drawing a line –
baseless without focus.

Lure of belonging lingers
clouding my options,
I fail to appreciate the plot
discover my folly too late.

Withdrawing, I will calm,
vomiting pure emotion
unable to handle the
trickles of dirty feelings.

My good-girl breeding
excludes boundaries
strips me of autonomy
I need to regroup –

re-evaluate, debunk
roots of conditioning,
empower autonomy,
release worthless guilt.

I will re-write
this powerless script,
cast myself in a leading role
put an end to exploitation.

If I can ever forgive
the misguided sins
perpetuated against self
tarnishing the past.

Morning Fog

sludge is my body
sludge is my mind
in the early hours

consciousness fights
for breath
awareness

is swallowed up
submersed
resurfaces
fragmented
overloaded

messages chime
phones ring
voices
worlds away

the altered reality
of disability
has claimed me.

 

A Sorry State

Stubbornly, I follow
my desires and motivations
over the edge,  humbly
rediscovering
my sorry limitations.

Calling home, hoping
for a sensible response –
reliable, clear-headed –
(I should know better –
no one like that exists
where I come from).

Miss Vanity and Ms. Martyr
come to the rescue, with
Perfect baby, Spirited baby
and the Despondent One
in tow, along with
adolescent Asperger,
awkwardly incapable
of social intercourse.

Doubtful of their intentions,
certain of their impracticability
and suspicious of neglect
I pull back, angered,
threatening to exert independence;
I don’t need anybody
least of all, you people.

Miss Selfless smiles reassuringly
gesturing for my compliance –
she has everything under control
there is room for everybody –
I climb on board –
surprisingly comforted,
conceding assumptions.

I am embarrassed by my situation,
in need of repair…
Approach cautiously, I warn
it’s a steep state of decline.
My stories, exposed, overlap,
piles of debris cluttering
where hope should dwell.
This is not a place for children,
or the pure of heart.

I feel trapped, but don’t express it.
Ms Forever Up and Miss I’ll Pray For You
smile as if to say:
Don’t worry, Silly,
we’ll clean this up in no time.
And look after the babies?
And look after the babies.

Weariness begs me to surrender,
trust these dubious cons –
too overwhelmed and overcome
to care, resigned to repeat
the drama of the past –
fearing this is my lot.

Dissatisfaction niggles
Don’t give up –
there is more to aspire to
a greater dream to dream
give it time, give it time
and quit driving yourself
beyond the confines
of this current state
of dis-able-ment.

Chaos Rules

“You’re mother’s in the hospital.”               It’s cancer!              Be brave!              “Your cousins are dead; all perished.”              Don’t speak of it.              You’ll upset others.             “Dad is not what you think he is.”             We have secrets.            Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.            “Your sister is pregnant.”            It’s a disgrace!            They need my help.          “Mother’s back is broken.”           Go away!          I am not wanted.         “Mom is not coping.”         Keep the baby quiet.       It’s all on my shoulders.        Suicide attempts       drug use    more deaths    illness     divorce    sexual promiscuity    breakdowns     insanity     spiraling out of control   Hold it together   We count on you.  I am responsible.  I am strong.  They need me.  Chaos  collusion
runaway rape “I have to leave.” I’ll save you. It’s never-ending.  I’m losing control. STOP!                                                  WAIT!
I AM                                    WEAK
NOT                         ABLE
to
breathe
broken
need
space
I learn to be,
gain strength from
knowledge, baby steps
Let          go
and         let
God         heal
restore                 revival
The Earth beneath me my protector; the sky above salvation; I am safe.

“You’re Mother is in the hospital.”    She wants to die.   I must be strong.
The walls around me crumble…
I am losing ground…
… a child again.

A Falling Out

I would entertain confidence,
but here, on the edge of emotion
(others before self )
I am ungrounded.

I gesture kindness
(a shady, alluring reconciliation)
your heart unavailable
distracted and driven.

Pushed aside, I am
(non-conformist)
ostracized,
still raw.

I ponder relationships
(incensed and violated)
worthy of investigation –
these many sides of self.

Sidestepping social niceties
(I am righteously enraged)
personal indignation
makes for interesting dynamics.

Exile is hurtful,
unacceptable – I look
for a voice – pause –
your expectations a brick wall.

Obligations temporarily overloading,
executive functioning down,
my exterior collapses –
we fall out.

Invincibility

Remember when we were lovers,
and would stay all out night –
me full of bravado,
you coaxing one more drink?

I’d awaken the next morning
head thick and fogged
and you’d reassure me
that the car was in the driveway
safe and sound
and want to do it all over again
but I’d have to work,
so you would sulk all day
until you could sweep me up once more.

“You’re going to burn out before you’re 25”
a co-worker told me
and you just laughed and said:
“Not me, I’m invincible!”
and we’d dance the night away
never knowing where we’d end up
or how we got there.

When did it change for us?
When did you abandon me?

Was it the day we lost four friends-
all dead in a fiery crash –
a tragic combination of speed and alcohol
that fateful long weekend?

Or was it that time
you let me get into that car
told me I’d be okay
flattered me that a man so handsome
would want my company
then left me alone
to be raped?

Maybe it was me that
just couldn’t look you in the face anymore
deceived by your recklessness,
seized by the recognition
of your self-serving ways.

Time and obligations
have made me forget you,
yet every once in awhile,
I dream of those days
when we watched the sun come up
then sleepless and still buzzed
faced the world – our oyster –
as if nothing could tear us down.

 

Emotional Pain Dance

A singular activity
suffices not to distract
from underlying pain –
multi-task.

Robotic attentiveness
fails to allay
constant buzzing –
re-focus.

Sidestepping issues
elicits no solace,
unravelling inevitable –
shutdown.

I am trapped
in solitary confinement,
sensory deprivation –
unleashed

momentous force
raging within
boring outwards –
scream

silently, alone,
unheard, unseen,
unburdening –
repent.

Self-pity dead ends,
breathe in life,
suppress negativity –
re-align.

Multi-tasking
ignites purpose,
smacks of productivity –
conceals.

Open To Healing

Open to healing –
delve into the subconscious
create a space for inspiration.

Ignore limited capabilities –
no offerings are meager –
enter with pure intentions.

Embrace new starts
have faith in ability
be spurred into action.

The Self holds the answers,
creative expression is the key.
No expertise required.

Accepting Self

Desiring reconnection with life,
a longing for purposeful normalcy,
I push forward, intentionally ignoring
advice to the contrary.

Original intention well-meaning
(but not thought through)
minimal exertion is what’s called for,
but I feel inspired to do more.

Former strength now lost,
new awareness on the periphery,
hindered only by this cloudy head-
executive functioning currently disabled.

Bottom line is I must come clean,
stop overstating my capacity,
accept the unpredictable,
and recognize my limitations.

Embrace the lesson of constraints
and stop sabotaging the journey.
I am what I am, not a former definition
based on a life now redundant.

Naked, I fear that someone will see me –
I fear that they will not see me –
desire for acknowledgment,
a very human condition.

I need to ignore the obstacles,
wholeheartedly, without compromise,
reveal myself – no longer hidden.
I am, after all, what I am.