Pain

Pain.

I push against it
challenge it

A warrior intent
on proving
I am…

indestructible
unwilling
to flinch

Convinced
that denial
equals power

Except, it gnaws
at my edges
tears me down
bit by bit

Just as I prepare
to succumb…
clarity

…this is invitation

…surrender is a gift

…pain is passage

I let go
absolve myself
of the need….

(Pain first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II in June of 2016.
It has been edited here. Art my own.)

Chronic Companion

She sits with me at breakfast,
follows me to the park,
hovers on the drive home,
celebrates when I lie down,
snuggles in with warming pad,
and moans…

Not a companion
I would have chosen,
preferred the active,
athletic life, and yet

She complains with me
in the afternoon, invites
excuses during dinner,
grounds me in the evenings
and tosses me at bedtime

Not a companion
I would have chosen,
but at least I’ll grant her this –
she’s chronically devoted.

 

 

Grey

Lured by azure waters,
the promise of carefree days,
I cruise ocean’s waters,
dream myself exotic.

Grey clouds loom, mock
this pretence – waves swell
crash, blacken horizon –
delusion loosing ground.

What force is this,
drags me into aphotic depths,
insists I swim in darkness?

Have I not proven tenacity,
claimed a place amongst the willing?

It is not light, I seek – too sinful
for redemption – just the solace
of familiar grey….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Toll

Am not the woman my children once called Mother –
can see the disappointment in their anger-blotched
expressions, feel the constraint in their voices –

distance between us tugs on my heart, plays with
my conscience, as if illness is choice – a contrived
plot to rob them of their expectations –

hope they can forgive me before it’s too late;
hope they can forgive themselves.

Gains and Losses

The mistress, meticulously groomed
glows a sun-kissed bronze shimmery
invitation, promising seductive
sensations of pleasure and release.

The husband, tense, overworked,
emotionally overwrought
heeds the call like a sailor
following the lure of sirens.

The flirtation begins in innocence,
he sips from her splendour at a party,
tastes her bittersweetness and
feels himself losing all control.

She is a master, a pupeteer
mesmerizing him with her smooth,
easy ways – lulling him into compliance
and alone; for private indulgence.

The wife, tired, lies awake
the empty space beside her
echoing the hollow place within-
she no longer holds his desire.

Spent and reeking from his illicit encounter,
the husband stumbles into bed,
reassuringly reaching for his wife in the dark.
Unresponsive, she feigns sleep.

They’ll not speak of it tomorrow-
awake and re-engage in the routine they call life.
Not tonight, he’ll tell himself,
Not tonight, she’ll hope.

The mistress sits smugly in waiting,
a never ending supply of liquid gold,
bottled with a promise – subliminally
conditioned to bring personal gain.

(Gains and Losses first appeared here in December of 2014.  As a child of alcoholism, the Christmas season is always a reminder of the pain.   Some gains are just not worth the cost.  If you or someone you love has a problem with addiction, please make it a resolution to seek help.  There is so much more to life.)