it seems that we keep time
in before and after.
not so much in days or years,
but in moments that stop everything.
some moments create deep fissures
in the skin of our souls,
as though splintering the heart,
penetrating even our deepest being.
each soul is marked by scars
by tears not shed
by pain too great
by fires gone out
Archives for domestic violence
it seems that we keep time
This is my walk
Nearly every day
I say hello to flowers and trees and tall grass
as they sparkle in the late afternoon sun
My heart records their incredible beauty and sad decay.
I focus on the shapes and colors of the leaves,
the twisted limbs of ancient trees.
every flower is delicate, unique.
some are faded, some vibrant
some reaching around others [...]
it doesn’t matter how many times I start over,
only that I do.
hypnosis is my love,
I can do this.
I am good at this.
but the time is now
to return to what I love and what I can do well.
I will begin again.
tonight, i feel like a bird’s nest covered with skin.
broken, twisted little branches
held together with bits of string and sticks and stems
wound up tighter than necessary to protect the pieces of me
that have yet to shatter
interpret the word however you like.
if you have absolutely no power in your relationship,
no control over your own life
and no hope
this is abuse.
walking slowly through the white walls of the museum
among brilliant works of masterful color
suddenly i was face to face with the crying woman
she screamed and screamed at me
trapped in canvas forever
there was no way i could help her
but i understood completely
Today I attended a holiday boutique with my lovely, talented, oldest daughter, who was showing her hand-made aprons. The show was in a a hair salon. It is more modern I suppose, than when my mother had been their client many years ago, but essentially the same. I recognized it right away.
My mother had thick, [...]
downcast eyes, twisted smile,
she thinks that she is hiding the pain
dancing on a wire
to a tune played by her leading man
it is a frantic dance,
a carefully choreographed ballet.
any flat look of disappointment sends ice into her heart
there is no end to the music
no breather between sets
she must anticipate each twirl and spin
for failure is unthinkable
burning black sand
extravagantly bright flowers quite suddenly dripping with warm rain that pounds the earth with unreasonable fury
in a moment, the rain is gone and the sand is burning hot again
violence is not rain
it does not simply stop.
bravery is necessary
yet one time more than you believe is in you
before you cannot
suddenly the storm is me
my emotions rage and tear the air like debris tossed about in a wild wind
i will not be peaceful if it means dying with the words suffocated behind my lips
i will not be a shadow any longer
i must stand in the light
even if it is a storm