How I find myself here
Cutting my mother’s hair.
When I swore we’d never speak
Never give myself the chance
to destroy her…
Like I know I could.
Such a moment of grace
And a realization-
“I forgive her”
And for once,
It’s not about her.
I can’t stand the silence;
More so now, than ever before.
My emotional reactions-
Full of hope, I choose to ignore.
I long for grounding;
A way to separate our energies.
My sympathetic feels-
Overwhelm me with anxieties.
I recognize similarities;
Our resonant trauma echoes.
My appreciation of you-
Empathy tips the dominoes.
Such an aberrant sentiment-
Unflinchingly given and reluctantly- accepted.
Growth is rarely a comfortable present;
at least not in the moment.
More of a gift to be appreciated when one grows older.
Cleverly disguised truth-
A Postmodern Jukebox manifestation of arrested development,
to be waded through both side by side
and often you taking point.
A partner and a challenge-
a teacher and a blessing.
An organized wish come through,
willed by his hands~
Surrounded by the ever present Spectre of death…
Mortality itself has haunted since the 11th year-
Family & friends dying like the Hemingways and Fondas having a competition…
Addictions and violence permeate a life… a society… a culture.
Supporting those you love,
Facing my own fears;
Tasked with aiding those in grief…
A lifetime of training?
They don’t tell you the right things to say…
Or even the wrong things to say.
“It will always come in waves… they just get further between…”
Weak tea for the knock kneed.
Birth to death and all between;
Beautiful acceptance to righteous anger-
Fuck this mortal coil.
What a compounding thought-
Reflecting on my daddy issues;
My insane need for a father figure…
What I needed was a foundation-
“The all father”
for all intents and purposes-
An education on faith-
Repentance AND reconciliation.
A basis for growth- a reason for service and understanding of trauma-
And finally- a present presence.
I’ve subdued my urges-
As often as I can…
Quieting the undesired parts of self.
But still… it’s not enough-
Now, inactions aren’t enough…
Words now forbidden-chastised-shamed-
Temporarily tattooed words,
over my heart-
across my breasts.
Mirror opposites for your view,
Though the ink disappears,
all feelings remain.
Redundant shields failing-
and to the victor go the spoils.
Spoils of anger;
spoils of fear; and
spoils of doubt.
There’s no way to plan tactically-
when there is no consistency;
it is like trying to flank cats…
Knowing what we need
also…. communicating it?
Ah…. that’s the secret.
Feelings can be stifled-
Have you ever wanted something so bad,
you work and sacrifice….
Go a little mad…
Obtain said goal.
As though you had been…
chasing the proverbial dragon,
you are again unsatisfied?
Its easy to feel very sad and isolated-
Lonely in this big house-
Full of white noise and silences…
Inconsistently closed yet open doors.
Still trying to adjust- adapt…
Handle all the new noises
Suppress all the annoying ones,
Lament the loss of the old ones;
Not regret not covet-
Missing the tiny place somehow-
Although cramped quarters-
Happiness was found in those small spaces;
No choice but intimacy-
And shared purpose.
I live in a huge house now…
full of closed doors;
For energy conservation,