Caught

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To my lost brother

You rage at me one minute
and shower me with love the next.
You blame me
for all your pain
I was just a child,
I was never meant to be your mother.
I tried to protect you
and now you rage at me.
I was just a child
none of this is my fault,
nor was it ever.
It is time for you to let go,
to detach from me
and find your own reality.
I have had to walk away
to protect myself,
I cannot take any more
of your abuse
and rage,
your fantasies
and lies.
I am afraid of you.
It should be easy
but I think of you
alone and pushed away,
and I know you are hurting.
I am hurting too
but you are incapable
of seeing anyone
outside of yourself.
I grieve for you, my lost brother, I don’t think
we will ever meet again.
I am so sorry
that this has to be so.
With love and pain and sadness.

If I should cross into forsaken places…

if-i-should-cross-into-forsaken-places

If I should cross into forsaken places…

….what may I find?

Only the desolate ruins of a bygone life

long abandoned?

Or could there be treasures unknown

waiting in the dark places,

left behind and lost

when I ran from the memories,

when I chose the mists of oblivion?

One foot on the bridge

spanning the lies I told myself

to escape remembering,

I search within for the courage

I know I must have had to survive.

To go forward into the past,

to search and discover,

or to hide forever from myself

in a groundless future?

 

Five

What do you do
when you are five years old
and your mother
shuts you away
because she can’t bear to look at you?
In your short life
she has given
no love or cuddles,
only bewildering rage and anger
no matter how hard you try to be good
it is never good enough.
Your body is small,
next to you she is very big
and when her face is in your face
shouting at you
and her hands are on your shoulders
shaking you
you fear you might die.
She shouts
I’ll shake the living daylights out of you.
Maybe one day she did
and you are no longer a real person,
only a shadow in the dark.
How do you know
if you are still alive?

Fragile

The connection between us
feels as fragile
as a spider’s web,
fine spun silk
that will break
under the weight
of falling autumn leaves
or drifts of winter snow
leaving me alone in the cold.
Should I stay
with this fearful uncertainty
or should I tip-toe away
feel the stretch and break
of the thread
and of my hopes?
Maybe my hopes were
always too frail
to survive
like snowflakes
that melt away
in morning sun.

Frozen in the headlights

The day darkened
as the storm drew near,
the gloom seeped into the room
where two small children played
The door began to open
and immediately
the man outside the window
put his fingers to his lips
in a hush gesture
and captured a little girl
Like a terrified animal
frozen in the glare of headlights
she stared

my heart hammered and I couldn’t move
or tear my eyes away from the window
as my mother put the light on
and left again, closing the door behind her
She didn’t notice my fear,
and I was too afraid to tell.

The child was lit up now,
exposed in the brightness
of the bulb like a
captive fish in a tank
caught and silenced.