Tag Archives: healing

TRIGGER WARNING: Spousal abuse is no joke

The First Husband

April is Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault Awareness month (among others). I am a survivor of Domestic Violence.

April is Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault Awareness month (among others).
I am a survivor of Domestic Violence.

I felt the wash of rage strike through my stomach when I saw you there

With a ONETWO punch of viciousness, I cringed as if it were a physical blow

Violence flashed before my blackened eyes that have long since healed

I remembered in crystal clear detail the fire you created

That burned my possessions forcing me to be your possession

That charred my childhood into echoes of musical damnations

Removing the blessings my mother gave to me

On sunny afternoons in the plant room of my childhood home

And you, with lighter fluid in hand, me begging forgiveness

You tossing key upon key into the blaze despite my please, thank you.

There you were, glaring your judgement on my friend

Turning your nastiness towards someone I love

Every bit of forgiveness I thought I could give was erased

“I think you’re just being vulgar for the sake of vulgarity.”

Fuck you! You’d still have the wife you pledged to protect

If you wouldn’t have pulled her gun on her, or slapped her,

Or pushed her, or punched her, or threatened her, or raped her

Or abused her, or took her love and threw it like your smelly shoes, away.

You no longer are allowed access to me, you son of a bitch.

You are denied access to love from me or my tribe.

You are rebuked and are denied absolution from my heart because of your actions.

Lie all you want to the people in your life now, but we both know what happened.

We both know you are not the “Christian” you claim to be.

We both know what you’ve done.

The door is closed, return to your own hell.

Walkers of the Sky

The Force was strong.

The Force was strong.

The pitch of cloudy moonless nights are harrowing

Despite the switch-back trail chosen to navigate

Maneuvering childish thoughts jagged and narrowing

You said, “Bring the child back home.”

The misty breathy wisdom cites a frightened wraith

With parental patient guidance blessed wisdom

Exhuming trust, from brittle bones, from a wild-haired waif

You said, “Return the child back home.”

With coward’s yellow pungent stench un-protecting

Winter’s breath of springing fallen truths disarming

The summer child sees comfort’s spirit connecting.

You whispered, “You’re safe. Come home.”

The offerings

Hands of Offering

Hands of Offering

Where there are tears,

offer relief.

Where there is despair,

offer belief.

Where there is darkness,

offer your light.

Where there is injustice,

offer human rights.

Where there is loss,

offer a shoulder.

Where there is a spark

offer to smolder.

Where there is plenty,

offer to share.

Where there is anguish,

offer repair.

Where there is emotion,

offer your being.

Where there are shackles

offer the freeing.

Where there is chaos,

offer a peace.

Where there is frustration,

offer release.

Brushed Out

Clumps of dirt, dust, and debris rotted my brains

whenever I tried to speak to passers by

I’d hold my beggar’s cup earnestly pushing

for loose change to fall chiming into the depths

speaking foul breathed words of backwards intent

Clumps of zombie flesh fell from my body

repulsing potential friends, disgusting possible employers

until

I blinked my eyes to dream and you coalesced

pristine

extraordinary

You made strange sense of my chaos, spoke to me

with careful brush strokes through my tangled words

Ever so gently you tugged at my self-loathing,

conditioned my confidence,

curled my toes with affection,

showered me with the truth through your actions

as you loved my pieces back together.

With frightened squalling wails of labor,

forsaking all others

I was born into redemption with your hand embracing mine

the day I agreed with you that I am worthy of love

When he left, he took:

professormcbeezleEvery one of my canvases and paints but not the colors

every light bulb in the house but not the light

every shade from the windows but not the curtains

every blanket from my beds but not the warmth

every canned good from my cupboards but not the bread

every animal from their house but not the pets

every gift he was ever given but he left empty handed

every hug and kiss sprinkled with praise but not the love

and I let him go because he asked with action not with word.

When I’m Alone

The Clipper Ship Blue Jacket On Choppy SeasAm I Schrodinger’s cat locked in a coffin that I can’t see?

Am I my own imagination come to life or who others want to see?

Am I an earthquake that shakes the foundation of your beliefs?

Am I the whirlwind that’s met with cautious alacrity?

Am I so enigmatic I am hidden even from myself?

Am I a magician’s assistant that performs with infuriating stealth?

Who am I when there’s nobody around to witness me?

Am I just a wanderer piloting my ship on the popped blue collar sea?

Well then, here we are

Last Friday I had surgery on my ankle to fix chronic pain that I incurred when my body decided it would be a great idea to not only enlarge my foot nerve, but attach it to the major artery running through said foot. So whenever I would step, extend, or use my foot, I was in constant pain. However, after the surgery, I feel so much better that I’ve been tempted to overdo it a bit because I can’t believe how much better I feel. Although I have irritation from the surgery site and some pretty impressive stitches, the pain level is more at a pinch instead of a cut-my-foot-off-for-the-love-of-Pete!

But I’m back and rolling again.

My friend posed the question: What if someone said “I love you” and you never heard it? It inspired the following poem entitled Rejected Love.

desertoasis

I’ve been told “I love you” in a million different ways

By thousands of different mouths promising devotion

In actions and in words designed to set my heart ablaze

With alchemic bumbling, “Drink this Number 9 potion.”

But the spells they cast upon my heart break up before they land

Their intentions not as holy as the unguarded that you proffered

In the secret place you’ve discovered, my oasis in the sand

While you accepted my treasure trove, they could not be bothered.