The gray

(Verse One)

Don’t cry to me of imagined slights

Don’t fill my ears with dramatic fights

You wear your crooked crown based on obfuscated lies

Terrified to pack up your own desecration’s prize

(Transition)

HEY! HEY! HEY!

 

(Verse Two)

Wash your hands of every wish you made

Pack them in the old musty suitcase

Load it up and remember where you could have been lost

Break open the latches, rusty locks at what high cost?

HEY! HEY! HEY!

(Chorus)

Take a turn on reality’s wheel

Won’t you tell me how you feel

Even though it’s hard to let things go

Nobody wants tickets…to your show.

HEY! HEY! HEY!

(Verse Three)

There is nothing to be done your bones

You must choose your adventure alone

Cascading fury of your self-righteous self-loathing

Stripping down naked of your emotional clothing

(Chorus)

Take a turn on reality’s wheel

Won’t you tell me how you feel

Even though it’s hard to let things go

Nobody wants tickets…to your show.

HEY! HEY! HEY!

HEY! HEY! HEY!

HEY! HEY! HEY!

Christmas 2016

There is nothing under the tree

that could bring as much joy to me

as a young child’s squeal of glee

when they get to open up and see

the wonders of a bedded Christmas Eve

their anticipation dripping heavily

Oranges pulled from stockinged sleeves

comes the release of temptation, finally!

Flee

Maybe if I pretend I’m not breathing.

Maybe if I scream loud enough.

Maybe if I can get out of this room.

Maybe if I can get the clip away from him.

Maybe if I can tell him I need water.

Maybe if I can make it out the door.

Maybe I can make it to my friend’s house.

Maybe if I call the police they’ll protect me.

Maybe if I ducked fast enough I’d be okay.

Domestic violence isn’t funny. It doesn’t happen once. It terrorized me.

My things would come up missing only to be found burned in the back yard. I wasn’t allowed rest because of the mocking from outside my bedroom door that I had to put a lock on to keep him from raping me again. I couldn’t go to my friends without having to check in frequently to make sure I wasn’t doing anything inappropriate which I didn’t.

The first time he hit me was with both of his palms smacked into my shoulders pushing me backwards. I was so surprised that I didn’t respond. When he started going for the face, that was the most difficult. When he pulled the gun I’d gotten for personal protection, putting it to my head, I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want him to be the cause of my death. I chose to flee.

I read years later that he said he didn’t want a divorce. Then why would you beat on your wife? Why would you pull a gun on her? Why would you blame her for your shortcomings? I don’t regret leaving him. I only regret not doing so sooner.

If you’re in a domestic violence situation, or are uncertain whether or not your experiences are abuse, please contact Domestic Violence Hotline, or call 800-799-SAFE (7233). If you have been sexually assaulted, yes, even by your husband/partner/boyfriend/girlfriend, you can find help at R.A.I.N.N. (Rape And Incest National Network) by visiting their website at rainn.org or calling 800 656 HOPE (4673)

You are not alone. Help is out there. You will be okay.

Mythical

To capture the eyes that adore me back

To experience the breath of your kisses

To envelope myself in your arms

To be in silence with the chorus of rising bellies

To caress the satin that calls my name

To press my urgency to your ear, confessing

To know, understand, you are my mythical being

Abide

sexydancer

The taste of your skin

is the richest flavor of sin

Let me drink in your dreams

Collapse at the seams

Let me dive into your spirit

Steadfast as your intimate

Abiding in your soul

your voice, whisper soft, and low

Let me read your skin like braille

breathing in you, then exhale

Give me your deepest release

Let me paint you, my masterpiece

in skies of orange and purple hue

Give to me the art of you

Missed

I missed your birthday a couple of years back.

I was locked up, sorry about that.

See I got to running with a rougher crowd

They drank too much and partied too loud.

I knew they were bad, but it was so much fun

I knew my world was about to come undone.

I left you with your Grandma Jones

She took you in and gave you a home.

I couldn’t destroy myself while keeping you

I mourned your loss, but got your name tattooed

on my forearm where I see it every day.

I missed you but I had to stay away.

I hope someday you might miss me as well

while I sit here 5-10 in a 4 by 6 cell

I’m sorry I missed your birthday a couple months back

But I was locked up, sorry about that.

 

This is an imagining of why someone might leave their child behind for the sake of self-destruction. This is not based on fact or any person I’ve known living or dead.