Trauma

our family rich with morbitities
of the mind, body and soul
wondering which fate awaits me

inviting the punishment
for perceived past misdeeds
a self-flagellation of sorts

abuse hammered in
nailed to my psyche
hard to escape, even after years

wrenching free is the only hope

Childhood Daze

Andrew Morris – Unsplash

Inspired by VJ’s Weekly Challenge – The Chase & Sadje’s – What do you see #77


the gleeful children
with imaginative friends
had the fairies dancing around them

laughing without care
and the sunlight fading into dark
the young minds began the chase

with enthusiasm and joy
one by one
little lights filled the jar

held brightly captive
these grantors of wishes
small eyes closed into slumber

Injuries

it was plain to see, flying like a plane off her wooden stilts
there would be blood
there was no pain as the broken window pane sliced down beside her left eye
so much blood discombobulated her mother
tears took center stage, not the white t-shirt now stained dark red
the hysteria in the background so oscar worthy
a little girl watching the performance
not knowing yet there were deeper wounds created
years passed before mom and her chronic attention-whoring
got that so richly deserved smack-down
the girl, now a woman, didn’t clap, fawn or adore anymore
she just walked away

Inspired by Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix

Invisible

Photo by James Sutton on Pexels.com

my love for you…

is written on my face
but you can’t seem to read me

emanates with intensity
but you are immune to feeling me

is expressed with every syllable
but you don’t know how to hear me

is right in front of you
but you are unable to see me

i must not be enough

Wordle #461

My sister and I grew up on all things camp – TV, film and even some music. We watched the funniest shows like Gilligan’s Island and Batman. It was hilarious getting animated, emulating an exaggerated karate chop through an imaginary smoke trail or holding Vick’s up to our eyes, so the vapor made us cry fake tears. 

I am yearning for carefree, childhood trips with the family, watching monarch butterflies flitter around on the mountain hills. The current plot twist in our lives makes me ache for pure, unadulterated silly joy. Thanks, Covid-19.

It’s time for some birdsong and chill.

My Angel

memories are a bitch
bubbling up
from depths
mourned long ago
tears falling
without consequence
my friend, you are missed

 

I was in my early 20s when I lost my good friend, Jerry Angeline, in a vehicle accident. His death impacted me deeply. This was our song and what triggered a flood of memories recently. It still hurts.

Scared Straighter

Inspired by Reena’s Exploration Challenge #124

ghhghh
Diogenes

fear-mongering from infancy
forcing acceptable behaviors
through mental scars

morals etched in deep
with vivid stories
petrifying children into submission

the fairy tales last forever
in the minds
of impressionable children

the morals passed on
lurid and shocking
mean to stifle and suppress

the stories
a warning
of unacceptability

it’s a wonder how we managed to grow up at all