Redux
The unaddressed haunts the vitality of the future.
A boiling, hot mess of resentment seething right below the surface.
Repetitively protecting the external while the red-hot hatred burns.
The barely suppressed rage remains coiled inside.
Implosion imminent.
Eventually, it will kill you.
Originally posted on I Write Her 7/19/18
the cries of a young boy go unheeded
his innocence questioning why love hurts
why is he to blame
always
his reddened body
and damaged psyche
aches
at the prospect of another beating
his mother
another pawn
sidelines her nurture
for her own peace
the child twice unlucky
lives out a horror-filled childhood
but with determined endurance
his strength gets him thru his familial hell
at the tender age of sixteen
grasping sweet freedom
in the ball of his fist
he holds back the final strike
quieting his monster
embarrassing the beast’s over-blown stature
it shook the cowardly aggressor
finally
there was peace
a respite from the violence
a start of healing
yet the dysfunction lingered
the home, always a yelling place
a source of constant dissatisfaction
coupled with emotional abuse
the father found other ways to injure
it was only a few more years
then the young man’s escape became possible
finally living on his terms
had begun in earnest
he peeled off the pain
saved himself and forged a future
promising himself to live a better life
he tried
one marriage in and down
the second one brewing for a storm
the dysfunction of the past not quite gone
just carried forward
he’d survived
but had not shed the poison within
still imprinted deep
was the darkness of the monster
not expunged, as thought
only resurfaced in time
the complete healing
required reflection and resolution
steadfast and enduring love saved him
pushing him to face his demons
and asking forgiveness of those he’d broken
just as he had been
Redux
Originally posted 4/20/2018 on I Write Her.
“Dead family walking!”
The family was chaotic from day one.
They being an absentee, alcoholic father, and a probably-suffering-from-a-mental-illness mother not understanding love.
A child being cheated out of something before her existence had ever really begun.
So many unusual life lessons played out where mediocrity would flourish.
Determined small steps tested the authorities; she tried where she could.
Her willingness to rise above engaged with her persistently in the aftermath of their lives.
She took control of all in her realm, determined to do what was best.
The past is now safely in the rear-view mirror.
Today promised ever-increasing clarity going forward.
this love
happens only
because of you
your grace
opens me
to love completely
my life
palpably richer
so utterly rewarded
Thank you ❤
finally tasting
what it means to be proud
of myself
it took too many years
for me to be free
from the contempt
the shame
your shame
forced on me
always making me feel smaller
than you were
knocking me down
me losing my identity
giving up my right to believe in myself
what a horrible mother you were
damn you
treading water
for years
wasted years
of frustration and tears
pushing hard
to break barriers
and maintain
sure would have been easier
knowing my value
you were supposed to be on my side
damn you
did it without you
lived an honorable, scarred life
healed all the wounds
inside and out
ups and downs
gains with each effort
failure was not
an option
because
you weren’t ever my safety net
damn you
me
now
so much better than what was
my time has come
achieving my greatness
feeling good in my skin
owning the center
whole, and comprehending peace
it raises me above your pettiness
and your disgusting competition
finally
damn girl,
so proud of you
cut flowers
damaged to project perfection
eventually, they’ll die
it’s not natural to live in glass
we were both cut in youth
damaged to project perfection
outside showed one thing
inside was a mess
both of us broken people
trying to get it right
hard knocks
every one a lesson
forced smiles
pressured lives
hard to bloom
when defeat is all you know
Over and over, repeated re-injury of the senses.
It’s what we had.
Dressed in our despair, bonded by pain.
It’s what we shared.
We twisted and contorted, struggled further to gain control.
It’s how we fought.
Every prick of the conscience drained another abscess.
It’s how we learned.
Giving up was not an option.
It’s how we lived.
Pixabay.com
The unaddressed haunts the vitality of the future.
A boiling, hot mess of resentment seething right below the surface.
Repetitively protecting the external while the red-hot hatred burns.
The barely suppressed rage remains coiled inside.
Implosion imminent.
Eventually, it will kill you.
| José López Enguídanos – Wikimedia Commons |
|---|
“Dead family walking!”
The family was chaotic from day one.
They being an absentee, alcoholic father, and a probably-suffering-from-a-mental-illness mother not understanding love.
A child being cheated out of something before her existence had ever really begun.
So many unusual life lessons played out where mediocrity would flourish.
Determined small steps tested the authorities; she tried where she could.
Her willingness to rise above engaged with her persistently in the aftermath of their lives.
She took control of all in her realm, determined to do what was best.
The past is now safely in the rear-view mirror.
Today promised ever-increasing clarity going forward.
I Write Her 
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