Remnants –

“Love. Of course, love. Flames for a year, ashes for thirty.”
Giuseppe di Lampedusa, The Leopard

“The fire which seems extinguished often slumbers beneath the ashes.”
Pierre Corneille

ineluctablewords
The dreams you thought should happen
they never came to be
The plans spent in the night pursuing
disappeared unseen
With shattered glass under your feet
precious things undone
In a foreclosed heart your hiding
thinking shadows won
Fears your always one forgotten
on thirsty ground
Thunder is heard in cloudy darkness
stirring ashes found
Remnant future slain in jest
giving life to plains
Revelation in the reaching bolts
healing of the shame
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First published in Opinions Of Eye
 

 

Windshield

“The boy is fragile, broken—broke himself—broke everything. I asked him why he did it. He said because the world was unlivable. He said it was unlovable, 
but I think he meant himself.” – Brenna Yovanoff
torchstar

“Push, pull, shove me, to that end we both know is there
Cheat, steal, cut me, when we both know you don’t care
Lie, prey, vex me, the broken windshield will show
Anger, pain, crush me, glass in bloodied water glows” 
– DMW


Love so strong and innocent dies betrayed, the broken windshield another victim of your lies. My knuckles are wounded from defending your evil intentions. The glass buried in them, kept there by darkened bloody scabs, seeps out, along with your memory, in tainted fluids of slow death. This windshield isn’t the first broken by fists of rage fueled with shattered feelings from your childish manipulations of my undefiled affection. A little grin of amusement decorates your facade, you’re entertained by the show you’ve created, and with that smirk, you settle back to wait. Playing the innocent, you set the trap for another Savior to ride in on his white horse, a chivalrous fool coming to your feigned rescue. Like you, the windshield is easily replaced, it’s easy to buy inanimate cold things.

Reckless – A careless attitude wrecks lives

“Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with those who are reckless with yours.”
“Let me say that the path I did take for a brief period of my life …was a path of quiet rebellion, of a little experimentation of a darker side of my confusion in a confusing world, lost in the midst of finding my identity.” – Jennifer Capriati

 

Reckless, breaking through the glass of life’s treasure

you shatter the trinkets with careless power

Reckless, you trash the dwelling of those in need
sending all askew, your feelings are sour

Reckless, you amble forward with no concern
Laying yourself down by the hour

Reckless, seeking only to feel what you lost
Now in the wreckage you cower

Also published in Broowaha 
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Reckless – A careless attitude wrecks lives

“Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with those who are reckless with yours.”
“Let me say that the path I did take for a brief period of my life …was a path of quiet rebellion, of a little experimentation of a darker side of my confusion in a confusing world, lost in the midst of finding my identity.” – Jennifer Capriati

 

Reckless, breaking through the glass of life’s treasure

you shatter the trinkets with careless power

Reckless, you trash the dwelling of those in need
sending all askew, your feelings are sour

Reckless, you amble forward with no concern
Laying yourself down by the hour

Reckless, seeking only to feel what you lost
Now in the wreckage you cower

Also published in Broowaha 
1101111


The Tub – Abuse cannot be cleansed

“When you aren’t loved, you aren’t real. Life is cold, like the stone against my palm.”
  – Richelle E. Goodrich,
Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
“Many abused children cling to the hope that growing up will bring escape and freedom…She is still a prisoner of her childhood; attempting to create a new life, she re-encounters the trauma.”
Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery  
 
I hear him coming, old truck grumbling

Stumbling up the stairs.

I hear him cussing, broken glassesthrowing

Threatening me to tears.

I hear his belt undoing, drunken fury lashing,

Bringing my young fears

I hear the slaps landing, bruises are coming

Staining my skin with smears

I hear the bath filling, his sorrow is falling

Draining his guilty water clears

I hear the door slamming, darkness is calling

Suffering my torment through the years

Related Post: Slamming Doors
Also published in Broowaha Magazine

02282012

The Tub – Abuse cannot be cleansed

“When you aren’t loved, you aren’t real. Life is cold, like the stone against my palm.”
  – Richelle E. Goodrich,
Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
“Many abused children cling to the hope that growing up will bring escape and freedom…She is still a prisoner of her childhood; attempting to create a new life, she re-encounters the trauma.”
Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery  
 
I hear him coming, old truck grumbling

Stumbling up the stairs.

I hear him cussing, broken glassesthrowing

Threatening me to tears.

I hear his belt undoing, drunken fury lashing,

Bringing my young fears

I hear the slaps landing, bruises are coming

Staining my skin with smears

I hear the bath filling, his sorrow is falling

Draining his guilty water clears

I hear the door slamming, darkness is calling

Suffering my torment through the years

Related Post: Slamming Doors
Also published in Broowaha Magazine

02282012

My Chained Love – The neurosis of hanging on

“The scariest thought in the world is that someday I’ll wake up and realize I’ve been sleepwalking through my life: under-appreciating the people I love, making the same hurtful mistakes over and over, a slave to neuroses, fear, and the habitual.” 
bing


I carry my chain with me where ever I go. It’s a pretty chain. At least everyone thinks it should be. I take it in my hands and play with it unconsciously. I catch myself looking at it when I pass a mirror, or in a reflection on the glass. At times it chokes me, when I sleep it tangles itself around my neck and irritates me. I’m worried it will break and I’ll lose it, or someone will want it more than me and take it from me. I’ve had this chain for many years. I’d give it away, but I thought I’d miss having it. It scared me to think of the loss I would feel,  not being able to play with it, or for it to catch my eye. I don’t think a new chain would be as good, after all, how can you replace the years I’ve invested in taking care of this one? I’ll probably die with it after all….


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