Dear Uncle

Before you die
I want you to know
that I remember what you did to me
all of it.
The little child you
used up and threw away
soiled and damaged
of no further interest,
and the unhappy teen
that you ridiculed
I understand now that you did that
to try to discredit me
you were afraid of me
afraid that I would tell
afraid that my wildness
meant that you had lost control
you moved your family
far away
you ran
and now I know
I am the one
with all the power
I could take your precious reputation
as the golden boy, everybody’s favourite
and crunch it to dust
under my feet.
I could turn you into an outsider
cast out by your own family
they would turn from you
in disgust
When you die
I will visit your grave
and leave an epitaph
of my own there
and you can spend
all the ages of time
rotting beneath it.

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The little things

the-little-things

A smile, words of encouragement,

a glimpse of the sun

through storm clouds,

the velvet of rose petals

and the softness of kittens,

laughter, the kindness of strangers,

the flight of butterflies

and the kiss of a breeze,

trusting, being understood,

the colours of autumn

and bare winter trees,

beauty, tears of joy,

the delicate veins

of a leaf skeleton,

all the little things

I hold in my heart

that you can never

take from me.

 

Anger

Finally, in you,

I have found all of my anger

from a lifetime of abuse

and intimidation,

you have given it a face and a name.

I have nurtured the spark carefully

and fanned the flame.

I have protected it from

the cold winds of my fear

and the quiet rain of my tears

and so it grew strong.

The more you try to oppress me

the stronger you make me,

You are teaching me

and I am a willing pupil.

I learn from every raging storm

you hurl at me.

I am not afraid of you

and I will fight you

till you run from me knowing

how small and helpless

you really are behind

the bully’s mask.

Never again

will I let anyone treat me

with anything less than dignity

and respect.