How Are You?
“Good!” I feel the need to summarize. “Good!” The exclamation point is to create interest without divulging anything. I do not plan to give any info. I do not plan to offer any details. This is due to an assumption that the other person is not actually interested. Or...
Gated
There is a fine line in the sandWalking a tightropeLearning to juggle one egg at a timeWalking on a frozen riverBeing aware of the delicate waterThe faded line on the beachIt sometimes can move from the waves washing ashoreI can forget where the line wasSlowly dipping...
The Ex
This writing is from the point of view of the ex-husband, with the twist of some of the descriptions coming from what I have learned in recovery. It describes some of the thinking processes involved in this dysfunctional marriage and family. Handed down from...
Mommy From Heaven
A short poem written in my mother's voice, talking to me from heaven. Dear little Sammy, I think of you nowHow I managed to raise you I will never know how Although you were born into a world of deep shameI loved you and gave you your grandfather’s name There were...
Ocean Rescue – Fail
When I was ten, my daddy-Monster carried me out of the Pacific Ocean, yet failed to rescue me. Ten years old:One decade of domestic violence.One decade of explosive terror –from daddy-Monster. My parents drive usto Southern Californiato visit relativesand enjoy the...
Enough
I’ve had enough of foodAnd the way it makes me feelA necessary evil, at once requiredBut not enough to heal. A simple joy served upOne fist after anotherWould it be too much to ask…No, I shouldn’t even bother. The weight adds upThe pain compoundedJust a little more...
Grief and Childhood
"Genuine grieving for our childhood ends our morbid fascination with the past and lets us return to the present, free to live as adults." - Big Red Book, page 83.My morbid fascination with my past perfectly describes the dissociative state I was in when I compulsively...
The Fireplace
I am made of red brick, with a smoke patinafrom when I decide to belch smoke back into the housejust for fun. The girl in this house, she loves me.She loves to lay on the floor, watching the colors in the fire.Sometimes adding little wax color pots, she makes in egg...
The Piano of My Childhood – So Much Potential…
(This italicized text is me talking!) (This bold text is the piano talking!)A black piano with wrinkles in its dark finish, was in the house when I became conscious, able to have memories, hold onto thoughts, sequence my world in my mind.I loved this...
One Unifed Voice
I can’t hear you, we’re so far apart. I don’t understand you; no common ground. In this place of anger, all I hear is judgement, blame and condemnation. I feel great pain, knowing I can’t hear you, and that you can’t hear me. The agony of not ...