Pieces Glued Together

The way a glass bowl
Shatters on tile
When it falls from up high:
Everyone stops.
Silence.
A fast heartbeat.
Then after a moment,
everything is back to normal.
That’s the best way
I can describe you
And how you got here.
Everything went silent
When we touched.
My heart beating quickly.
But when I looked into your eyes,
Everything felt normal.

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

💔

imageI miss him. I miss the way he smells. I miss hearing him sing to our children. Rock them, tickle them, sleep right next to them. I miss parenting together. He would take the kids so I could nap. Before I fell asleep, he would bring me a plate of food and a drink. Things that I was always thankful for…but now…I am seeing just how lovely that was. I miss watching Friends together when he got home late at night. We sat on the couch and ate fast food. Simple joys. I miss family walks. Family anything. Grocery trips with another parent. The zoo. Oh how blissful that was. I’m not lonely. I’m healthy. I’m stable. I’m not missing him for all the wrong reasons. I’m just allowing myself to admit that the good parts were so good. That doesn’t change anything but it does feel good to let it out.

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Happiness and Pain

Trigger: abuse

Very rough edit/train of thought written April 4, 2015

I remember carrying our daughter on my hip. Bright summer day. The landlord unlocked the apartment: our future home. We would spend the next three years there together. The three of us…then the four of us. I would spend sleepless nights rocking, holding, swaying, breastfeeding our daughter in that home. She took her first steps there. I conceived her brother there. Labored back and forth from kitchen to bedroom in that home. Brought our son home to meet his sister there. I remember his first steps in the same living room as his sister. The same living room I was pushed to the floor. I was climbed on top of. I was choked and pleading for my life. I passed out and woke gagging and gasping and begging for help. Medical help. He barricaded the door. Threw my phone out of reach. The hallway is where I was punched in the head, blacked out, and woke to my baby crawling on me. The kitchen…his favorite place to shove me from behind so hard my knees bruised and swelled. Once I was down, he would kick me until I couldn’t breathe. Then, I wouldn’t be able to sit for days. The home that filled my heart with so much joy, hate, bliss, pain, love, hurt…

So when I walk into this apartment now that I have left and been gone for 5 months. Now when I enter to gather my last bit of belongings, I’m a mess. I start sobbing. Fall to the ground in a broken heap and just sob. For what could have been. For what was. For what isn’t. He emotionally abuses me for what I pray is the last time. I leave. I can’t be there with him. I can’t do it. I try to come back later in the day. He takes the kids for a walk while I throw my things into trash bags as quickly as I can. They return from their walk and I suddenly have nice Stephen. The part of the domestic violence cycle where he is kind. He plays me a song. “Fourth of July” by Sufjan Stevens. I’m warding off his hugs and kisses. I’m in the hallway. I’m sliding to the floor. A heap again. A sadness that aches into my bones. A hurt that I can’t imagine ever leaving me. “Did you get enough love, my little dove
Why do you cry?
And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best
Though it never felt right
My little Versaille”

Leave a comment

Filed under journal

Shall we look at the moon, my little loon

image
He plays me a song.
“Fourth of July” by Sufjan Stevens
I’m warding off his hugs and kisses
I’m in the hallway
sliding to the floor
A heap again
A sadness that aches
into my bones
A hurt that I can’t imagine
ever leaving me.
“Did you get enough love, my little dove
Why do you cry?
And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best
Though it never felt right”
The lyrics pierce my heart knowing
This is the last time he’ll play me a song
This is it.
I’m done.

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Bb

“Benson”
Her first glance your way.
Long, dirty blonde hair
Shrugging of her shoulders
As she exhales hookah smoke
And passes to you.

“Balcony”
Where her hand slides on top of yours.
Brisk winter air becomes silent
In this moment
Next to her warm body.

“Brambles”
Your drunken first kiss with her
Under trees growing
Like steady
Wind swaying 
Like a heartbeat you couldn’t keep
Up with.

“Bunk bed”
Where I sit
Next to you
Listening
About this dream girl
This dream night
My heart beating
Angry, sad, jealous
Little beats.

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry/prose

Coffee Shop

Her slight silhouette fits neatly
In the door frame:
Winter sunshine behind her
Bundled up body.
My heart beats shakily
In a chest she once laid
Her head on
As she kissed and caressed
All my scars
And all my hopes and dreams
Fluttering around inside of me.
Now, my hand shakily waves
To announce, “Here I am.
The womyn you left
When the bruises got too big,
The wounds reopening every night.
Here I am.”
I’m nervous and I’m angry at her.
I needed her then.
Tears in my eyes and a forced smile
On my warm-with-anger face,
We lock eyes.
We lock eyes and it’s obvious:
I still love you.
Damn the universe.
Damn you too:
I still love you.

Leave a comment

Filed under love, poetry/prose

tea time

something about the breeze
that ebbs into my bones,
the cool flow
of wind
catching on my skin
takes me back
to happiness,
a happiness I could cup
in the palm of my hands
to share
with you.
you…
bipolar destruction,
monster of a mother
wicked wife and daughter
your mania is fading
your depression is waning
all that’s left
is a middle ground
of rage seeping
from your limbs
and orifices.
here, Miss Bipolar…
take this happiness
that I caught today
as I stood naked
in front of an open window
in the light morning
with the dewy wind
cascading around my bare body.
take this millisecond of happy.
boil your blood
and let that happy
steep a while.
drink up.

1 Comment

Filed under poetry/prose