tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34475412319984397572024-03-12T17:00:36.118-06:00Poet...maybe? NaPoWriMo...and beyond...
Prosey poetry and free verse.
Unapologetically real recovery.
My words, my life, my experience.Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.comBlogger614125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-55448259120507150792024-02-19T10:06:00.002-07:002024-02-19T10:07:53.392-07:00Shades of discernment<div>One day, </div><div>you realize<br />that some problems </div><div>are not correctable.</div><div><br /></div><div>When engaging with</div><div>or-taking part in-</div><div> the topic</div><div> the issue</div><div> the interest</div><div>always results in</div><div> chaos</div><div> hard feelings</div><div> hurt</div><div> resentments</div><div> misunderstandings</div><div>and oh-so-many</div><div>endings endings endings….</div><div><br /></div><div>No matter what your</div><div> intentions</div><div> hopes</div><div> past ‘work’ to correct</div><div> CBT</div><div> or whatever the psych flavor</div><div> of the day is,</div><div>the result is always the same….</div><div><br /></div><div>There isn’t enough</div><div> counseling</div><div> recovery</div><div> medication</div><div> treatment</div><div> time</div><div> substances</div><div> do-overs</div><div>to become</div><div> …to evolve</div><div> ……to change</div><div>who you think you are</div><div>or</div><div>who others think you </div><div>ought to be….</div><div><br /></div><div>Well,</div><div>then it's time</div><div>to try something different</div><div>instead of staying in</div><div>the insanity.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so,</div><div>the result:</div><div>these problems</div><div>become another</div><div>form of </div><div> abstinence</div><div> sobriety</div><div> clean time</div><div>to be endured</div><div>and then</div><div>embraced</div><div>and even</div><div>celebrated.</div><div><br /></div><div>Because peace</div><div>is always worth the choice.</div><div><br /></div><div>And you can’t always fix</div><div>everything.</div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-31772550593320512592024-02-06T20:00:00.007-07:002024-02-06T20:09:40.659-07:00The sin of envy<p>Lots of new revelations lately</p><p>coming out of </p><p>mindfulness practice,</p><p>like the one about </p><p>the motivations of </p><p>a quiet bully.</p><p>They always liked to needle me</p><p>about the unorthodox way</p><p>I chose my degree focus.</p><p>Goddess, I would have never </p><p>told them that story</p><p>if I’d known they would </p><p>slyly poke me</p><p>about it for the</p><p>next thirty-five years!</p><p>and why?</p><p>I will tell you why:</p><p>jealousy.</p><p>I EARNED two degrees</p><p>that have served me well</p><p>over those thirty-five years.</p><p>Employers are always in the market</p><p>for research and communication skills,</p><p>not to mention</p><p>an open and curious mind.</p><p>That old A.S. wasn’t enough for them?</p><p>Why couldn’t they simply be</p><p>pleased instead of</p><p>subtly critical?</p><p>They made THEIR life choices -</p><p>I made MINE.</p><p>I’m proud to have used </p><p>my hard-won education</p><p>and my brain</p><p>thoroughly.</p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-36199159442537805082024-02-03T22:08:00.001-07:002024-02-03T22:11:27.633-07:00Good fences<div style="text-align: left;">It’s getting easier</div><div style="text-align: left;"> to hide those</div><div style="text-align: left;"> names and numbers</div><div style="text-align: left;"> posts and pictures</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">easier to observe</div><div style="text-align: left;"> silently</div><div style="text-align: left;"> the textual communications</div><div style="text-align: left;"> and</div><div style="text-align: left;"> to not trigger</div><div style="text-align: left;"> myself</div><div style="text-align: left;"> by responding </div><div style="text-align: left;"> only to be</div><div style="text-align: left;"> ignored</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">easier to enjoy</div><div style="text-align: left;"> the quiet contentment of</div><div style="text-align: left;"> not having my mental stability</div><div style="text-align: left;"> regularly upended by</div><div style="text-align: left;"> the careless and</div><div style="text-align: left;"> possibly </div><div style="text-align: left;"> not so casual</div><div style="text-align: left;"> caustic comment</div><div style="text-align: left;"> burning the new skin</div><div style="text-align: left;"> of my scabbed over and </div><div style="text-align: left;"> healing self esteem.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">easier to do </div><div style="text-align: left;"> long-neglected </div><div style="text-align: left;"> and even forgotten</div><div style="text-align: left;"> projects</div><div style="text-align: left;"> dreams</div><div style="text-align: left;"> self-care</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">easier to finally</div><div style="text-align: left;"> make new friends</div><div style="text-align: left;"> leave the house</div><div style="text-align: left;"> adult with panache</div><div style="text-align: left;"> work like a poised pro</div><div style="text-align: left;"> calmly contemplate </div><div style="text-align: left;"> future possibilities.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It is</div><div style="text-align: left;">good.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-18860200102956320302024-01-28T21:14:00.003-07:002024-01-28T21:14:59.850-07:00Identity<p>who am I?</p><p>what is the memory that defines me?</p><p>everything about my life is about</p><p>healing that little girl</p><p>stop running</p><p>but does she need healed?</p><p>she who survived that childhood?</p><p>she was tough</p><p>and determined…</p><p>we hug each other</p><p>excited about who </p><p>I have become.</p><p>who really needed the help,</p><p>the healing?</p><p>me, </p><p>me, that’s who.</p><p>the sixty year old.</p><p>that’s who.</p><p>why am I holding her back</p><p>and out</p><p>saying she needs healing?</p><p>I let that little girl in</p><p>to experience the joy of</p><p>who we are now.</p><p>and we go out</p><p>to share the story of</p><p>who we are</p><p>with others</p><p>to help others.</p><p><br /></p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-23659428352303431052024-01-26T22:07:00.000-07:002024-01-26T22:07:27.202-07:00Praying on street corners<div style="text-align: left;">When I was growing up</div><div style="text-align: left;">I heard in church</div><div style="text-align: left;">all the time</div><div style="text-align: left;">various Bible verses</div><div style="text-align: left;">and priestly opinions</div><div style="text-align: left;">about not praying in public,</div><div style="text-align: left;">being directed to </div><div style="text-align: left;">pray more privately </div><div style="text-align: left;">to have a genuine relationship </div><div style="text-align: left;">with God.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I always understood this</div><div style="text-align: left;">to mean that making sure that</div><div style="text-align: left;">everybody knew about my prayer </div><div style="text-align: left;">or spiritual life or related activities</div><div style="text-align: left;">was showing off </div><div style="text-align: left;">or attention seeking.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It certainly was NOT devotion.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was certainly prideful.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It puzzles me to this day</div><div style="text-align: left;">why the people that I was </div><div style="text-align: left;">raised with and by</div><div style="text-align: left;">feel it necessary to </div><div style="text-align: left;">constantly talk about </div><div style="text-align: left;">what they are doing to </div><div style="text-align: left;">serve and worship God.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I think the only one </div><div style="text-align: left;">that needs to know </div><div style="text-align: left;">that information </div><div style="text-align: left;">is God, if indeed </div><div style="text-align: left;">one is doing it </div><div style="text-align: left;">all for</div><div style="text-align: left;">God.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Everything else</div><div style="text-align: left;">is showing off.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">How about those Catholics?</div><div style="text-align: left;">Who can out-Catholic the other Catholics?</div><div style="text-align: left;">I swear, some of my siblings</div><div style="text-align: left;">are constantly running for </div><div style="text-align: left;">the title of </div><div style="text-align: left;">“Catholic of the year.”</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It’s nauseating and disingenuous,</div><div style="text-align: left;">not to mention damaging </div><div style="text-align: left;">and insensitive</div><div style="text-align: left;">to those around them.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Especially for those </div><div style="text-align: left;">striving to</div><div style="text-align: left;">find their own path and </div><div style="text-align: left;">their own faith.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Once again,</div><div style="text-align: left;">some righteous asshole is </div><div style="text-align: left;">telling them that</div><div style="text-align: left;">they’re wrong (the seekers)</div><div style="text-align: left;">and that their way (the street corner pray-ers)</div><div style="text-align: left;">is the only way.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I wonder if God is pleased</div><div style="text-align: left;">by this eternally running pageant </div><div style="text-align: left;">or if He is as bemused </div><div style="text-align: left;">as I am</div><div style="text-align: left;">by the fierceness</div><div style="text-align: left;">and pointlessness</div><div style="text-align: left;">of their contest.</div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-42210875891383901782024-01-23T18:12:00.000-07:002024-01-23T18:12:35.413-07:00Ms. (S.) Regrets…<p>“I’m calling to </p><p>remind you about…</p><p>(insert the family gathering of your choice here).</p><p>Do you want to RSVP and pay your deposit?”</p><p><br /></p><p>“Why, no. </p><p>I regret that</p><p>I am no longer </p><p>able to manage</p><p>the cost of</p><p>this sort of event.”</p><p><br /></p><p>“Oh, come now. </p><p>Surely it’s not that expensive. </p><p>Perhaps you could split it </p><p>into the two payments?”</p><p><br /></p><p>“I can hear that you </p><p>misunderstand me -</p><p>as you always have.</p><p>I was not speaking of </p><p>money</p><p>in terms of affording.</p><p>I was referring to the </p><p>mental, </p><p>emotional,</p><p>and </p><p>spiritual toll that</p><p>hanging around </p><p>any of </p><p>you people</p><p>takes on me</p><p>every</p><p>fucking</p><p>time.</p><p>THAT is what </p><p>I cannot spare </p><p>the price of.”</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>(silence)</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>(click)</p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-46266141588432637552024-01-11T19:08:00.005-07:002024-02-03T22:10:24.949-07:00The Unforgivable Curse: a true fairytale<div style="text-align: left;">The streams from their wands met</div><div style="text-align: left;">in a spectacular explosion of </div><div style="text-align: left;">light and emotion.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Dark layered a crucius curse onto </div><div style="text-align: left;">the imperius one she had already cast</div><div style="text-align: left;">on the Light</div><div style="text-align: left;">so many years ago.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Was that curse was a prophecy? No.</div><div style="text-align: left;">But it was a curse, </div><div style="text-align: left;">a centuries-old darkness</div><div style="text-align: left;">passed on to the inevitable</div><div style="text-align: left;">Light</div><div style="text-align: left;">in each generation.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Dark didn’t care that </div><div style="text-align: left;">both curses were unforgivable;</div><div style="text-align: left;">she had labored under them</div><div style="text-align: left;">herself until shoving one onto </div><div style="text-align: left;">her first born.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Now doubly so,</div><div style="text-align: left;">she was convinced she was justified.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Disobedience and independence </div><div style="text-align: left;">simply could not be tolerated</div><div style="text-align: left;">from the Light.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Light didn’t know </div><div style="text-align: left;">about the imperius -</div><div style="text-align: left;">she never had.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She had always thought</div><div style="text-align: left;">and was always taught that </div><div style="text-align: left;">her crazy behavior</div><div style="text-align: left;">was because she WAS crazy</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">…because she was wrong</div><div style="text-align: left;">…because she was defective</div><div style="text-align: left;">…because she was evil.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But…the Light wasn’t any of those things.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She was being impelled</div><div style="text-align: left;">and harmed by </div><div style="text-align: left;">the first unforgivable curse, </div><div style="text-align: left;">that forced her to act out, </div><div style="text-align: left;">out of pain,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But…Light did know</div><div style="text-align: left;">a crucius was coming </div><div style="text-align: left;">by the look on Dark’s face,</div><div style="text-align: left;">that malicious cunning determination</div><div style="text-align: left;">to win, to best the Light</div><div style="text-align: left;">at any cost.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yes, Light had seen </div><div style="text-align: left;">and suffered </div><div style="text-align: left;">from that one before.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Light gathered her skill </div><div style="text-align: left;">and power </div><div style="text-align: left;">but could not break</div><div style="text-align: left;">the Dark’s wand stream</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She didn’t want to hurt anyone.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She just wanted to protect herself</div><div style="text-align: left;">and make the pain stop </div><div style="text-align: left;">forever.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Life had already </div><div style="text-align: left;">hurt enough</div><div style="text-align: left;">without putting up with </div><div style="text-align: left;">Dark’s shit</div><div style="text-align: left;">anymore </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In fear and anger,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Light redirected </div><div style="text-align: left;">her protective crucius curse </div><div style="text-align: left;">towards Dark’s partner,</div><div style="text-align: left;">who passively watched the battle.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">To her astonishment,</div><div style="text-align: left;">he went down with </div><div style="text-align: left;">a yelp of surprise, </div><div style="text-align: left;">never expecting to be</div><div style="text-align: left;">attacked directly.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">His mate usually protected</div><div style="text-align: left;">…er…</div><div style="text-align: left;">controlled him </div><div style="text-align: left;">so well.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Dark broke off her attack </div><div style="text-align: left;">on Light at </div><div style="text-align: left;">the pain and betrayal</div><div style="text-align: left;">in her mate’s voice.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She hadn’t anticipated </div><div style="text-align: left;">Light’s choice either.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">When the wand streams dropped,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Light ran. </div><div style="text-align: left;">And and ran and ran and ran</div><div style="text-align: left;">as </div><div style="text-align: left;">her mother tended </div><div style="text-align: left;">her father.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She didn’t look back.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She had foiled the curse.</div><div style="text-align: left;">And that was </div><div style="text-align: left;">all that mattered</div><div style="text-align: left;">at that moment.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Silence unfurled </div><div style="text-align: left;">as a dark and corrosive</div><div style="text-align: left;">Banishment</div><div style="text-align: left;">separated the Light</div><div style="text-align: left;">from those she loved</div><div style="text-align: left;">for many years.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Any effort by the Light</div><div style="text-align: left;">to approach the Dark </div><div style="text-align: left;">(and her mate)</div><div style="text-align: left;">to make amends was</div><div style="text-align: left;">viciously rebuffed.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Light knew </div><div style="text-align: left;">she hadn’t got away with </div><div style="text-align: left;">anything.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But she was willing </div><div style="text-align: left;">to take the peace </div><div style="text-align: left;">and the cessation of </div><div style="text-align: left;">harassment by </div><div style="text-align: left;">the Dark.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Eventually, </div><div style="text-align: left;">the Dark</div><div style="text-align: left;">passed on.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Her mate lived on, </div><div style="text-align: left;">seeming more peaceful </div><div style="text-align: left;">without his darker, </div><div style="text-align: left;">dangerous, </div><div style="text-align: left;">damaged half.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Light became </div><div style="text-align: left;">hopeful</div><div style="text-align: left;">that old hurts might </div><div style="text-align: left;">mend;</div><div style="text-align: left;">it even felt like </div><div style="text-align: left;">they had.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Until one day, </div><div style="text-align: left;">thirteen years later</div><div style="text-align: left;">Dark’s widowed mate</div><div style="text-align: left;">made it known</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> nothing had changed</div><div style="text-align: left;"> nothing had healed</div><div style="text-align: left;"> nothing was forgiven.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Light’s Banishment was </div><div style="text-align: left;">still soooo in effect;</div><div style="text-align: left;">there was nothing </div><div style="text-align: left;">the Light could </div><div style="text-align: left;">ever ever</div><div style="text-align: left;">do about it</div><div style="text-align: left;">ever.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">At that moment</div><div style="text-align: left;">both curses </div><div style="text-align: left;">- the ancient imperious </div><div style="text-align: left;">and the relatively newer crucius -</div><div style="text-align: left;">suddenly became visible to </div><div style="text-align: left;">the Light, </div><div style="text-align: left;">she studied</div><div style="text-align: left;">the old spell,</div><div style="text-align: left;">the words of abandonment.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The dark chains of both curses </div><div style="text-align: left;">suddenly gripped the Light, </div><div style="text-align: left;">more painfully</div><div style="text-align: left;">than they ever had.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Light finally could see </div><div style="text-align: left;">clearly</div><div style="text-align: left;">that the Dark was still </div><div style="text-align: left;">in control of </div><div style="text-align: left;">her mate and their family</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> even after death</div><div style="text-align: left;"> even after decades</div><div style="text-align: left;"> even after seemingly acting like </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">all was well now that </div><div style="text-align: left;">Dark was out of the picture.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">What a fucked up sort of</div><div style="text-align: left;">immortality THAT is. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For a few hours </div><div style="text-align: left;">afterwards,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Light writhed under</div><div style="text-align: left;">those tandem curses,</div><div style="text-align: left;">despairing of ever</div><div style="text-align: left;">being free of </div><div style="text-align: left;">the legacy of pain of</div><div style="text-align: left;">generations.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She did not fight it. </div><div style="text-align: left;">She sagged</div><div style="text-align: left;">in anguish </div><div style="text-align: left;">over her life</div><div style="text-align: left;">the agony of not</div><div style="text-align: left;">being enough or </div><div style="text-align: left;">worthy of love.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Finally …the Light arose.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She cast it all off, easily.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She finally remembered:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> those curses had only existed in her head</div><div style="text-align: left;"> because they made her believe</div><div style="text-align: left;"> they existed</div><div style="text-align: left;"> that the curses WERE her identity.,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Light realized anew</div><div style="text-align: left;">that she was </div><div style="text-align: left;">no worse off</div><div style="text-align: left;">than when the wand streams </div><div style="text-align: left;">had dropped</div><div style="text-align: left;">twenty years before</div><div style="text-align: left;">and that, in fact, </div><div style="text-align: left;">she was even freer</div><div style="text-align: left;">because the truth was</div><div style="text-align: left;">the forgiveness she had sought from</div><div style="text-align: left;">the Dark </div><div style="text-align: left;">still had a higher price</div><div style="text-align: left;">than she ever wanted to pay </div><div style="text-align: left;">ever again.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The price was </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> her hard-won sanity</div><div style="text-align: left;"> her independence</div><div style="text-align: left;"> her precious sobriety </div><div style="text-align: left;"> the peace experienced</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">since the day</div><div style="text-align: left;">the wand streams broke.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Light understood</div><div style="text-align: left;">at last </div><div style="text-align: left;">the only forgiveness </div><div style="text-align: left;">she needed or</div><div style="text-align: left;">wanted </div><div style="text-align: left;">was from herself. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So she forgave herself</div><div style="text-align: left;">for the curse cast on </div><div style="text-align: left;">the Dark’s mate</div><div style="text-align: left;">because she finally knew that </div><div style="text-align: left;">the Dark’s curses on the Light</div><div style="text-align: left;">ultimately caused the choice.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It wasn’t Light’s fault.</div><div style="text-align: left;">It never was.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She still wasn’t </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> bad or worthless</div><div style="text-align: left;"> defective or evil</div><div style="text-align: left;"> broken or unworthy.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Light was </div><div style="text-align: left;">blessedly whole</div><div style="text-align: left;">free from the curses</div><div style="text-align: left;">all of them</div><div style="text-align: left;">at last.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She laughed. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Free.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Free at last.</div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-36560305640243640012024-01-06T14:51:00.020-07:002024-01-06T16:51:46.024-07:00I hate Christmas<div style="text-align: left;">I always have.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">When I was a kid, it was a time of disappointments.</div><div style="text-align: left;">My parents did their best…</div><div style="text-align: left;">They were poor but</div><div style="text-align: left;">I was a kid.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I was neither old enough nor evolved enough</div><div style="text-align: left;">to not be disappointed and angry</div><div style="text-align: left;">when my friends were given </div><div style="text-align: left;">all the really cool stuff</div><div style="text-align: left;">like the Barbie Dreamhouse and Simon Says and </div><div style="text-align: left;">clothing no one else had ever </div><div style="text-align: left;">worn before.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And I got…socks and oranges </div><div style="text-align: left;">and a silver dollar in the old stocking.</div><div style="text-align: left;">And way too many sappy old Christmas cartoons</div><div style="text-align: left;">all while pulling taffy and decorating gingerbread houses</div><div style="text-align: left;">with candy we kids were not allowed to eat and</div><div style="text-align: left;">way too much fucking fairy tale church activity and </div><div style="text-align: left;">the annual “new” pair of jeans that looked</div><div style="text-align: left;">suspiciously like the ones </div><div style="text-align: left;">I saw at the church rummage sale </div><div style="text-align: left;">right before Thanksgiving.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Those jeans, as always, turned out to be</div><div style="text-align: left;">ugly and too big for my still narrow hips </div><div style="text-align: left;">and too short for my newly sprouting frame and they always</div><div style="text-align: left;">always </div><div style="text-align: left;">carefully left miles of ankle exposed</div><div style="text-align: left;">for my peers to shriek at with glee for</div><div style="text-align: left;">the remainder of the school year.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Every fucking year.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Christmas before adulthood was also</div><div style="text-align: left;">traumatized by </div><div style="text-align: left;">sporadic visits to </div><div style="text-align: left;">the maternal grandparents in Arizona.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Not only did we ALWAYS drive through</div><div style="text-align: left;"> the worst fucking storm in the world, </div><div style="text-align: left;">every damn year, </div><div style="text-align: left;">48 hours before Christmas,</div><div style="text-align: left;">to get there, through South Pass, </div><div style="text-align: left;">and every other damn pass, it seemed, </div><div style="text-align: left;">in the Rocky Mountains, </div><div style="text-align: left;">my parents had to drive straight through </div><div style="text-align: left;">from wherever we were </div><div style="text-align: left;">currently living in Wyoming</div><div style="text-align: left;">with no stops or overnights </div><div style="text-align: left;">in the middle of this annual nightmare</div><div style="text-align: left;">with all six of their kids cowering and shivering </div><div style="text-align: left;">in the back of the truck, </div><div style="text-align: left;">allegedly protected by an </div><div style="text-align: left;">unheated camper shell, </div><div style="text-align: left;">with blankets and lawn chairs and luggage,</div><div style="text-align: left;">(can you say “safe”, y’all?)</div><div style="text-align: left;">scared out of our collective mind by the</div><div style="text-align: left;">swerving, sliding vehicle </div><div style="text-align: left;">while my mom shrieked at my dad to </div><div style="text-align: left;">WATCH FOR the </div><div style="text-align: left;">rarely-visible-through-the-blowing-snow-painted line </div><div style="text-align: left;">at the side of the road, </div><div style="text-align: left;">as some other maniac drove down the </div><div style="text-align: left;">wrong side of the road past them</div><div style="text-align: left;">on the other side of this apocryphal line</div><div style="text-align: left;">with their equally fucking scared </div><div style="text-align: left;">kids in their car.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">(By the way, the aforementioned maniac</div><div style="text-align: left;">was driving in the barrow pit….</div><div style="text-align: left;">Catching that fear yet?)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But that drive wasn’t the biggest </div><div style="text-align: left;">trauma drama of the </div><div style="text-align: left;">semi-annual nightmare trip.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Once we got to the grandparents’ trailer court,</div><div style="text-align: left;">there was </div><div style="text-align: left;">the molester.</div><div style="text-align: left;">My mother’s father.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Another now unclaimed relative of mine.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">He was very busy being a grandfather, </div><div style="text-align: left;">keeping us kids in an uproar by </div><div style="text-align: left;">“cuddling” us at any unguarded moment,</div><div style="text-align: left;">taking us to the store for candy, </div><div style="text-align: left;">taking forced naps with one at a time,</div><div style="text-align: left;">and</div><div style="text-align: left;">hanging out with us six girls </div><div style="text-align: left;">of various ages and physical development </div><div style="text-align: left;">in the court swimming pool, </div><div style="text-align: left;">such a treat! for kids who </div><div style="text-align: left;">just came there</div><div style="text-align: left;">from subzero Wyoming!</div><div style="text-align: left;">And other allegedly safe and grandfatherly</div><div style="text-align: left;">sorts of activities, </div><div style="text-align: left;">which were really just a cover for </div><div style="text-align: left;">his fingers being in and on and over </div><div style="text-align: left;">every part of our bodies</div><div style="text-align: left;">while mom and dad drank beer </div><div style="text-align: left;">with grandma, the enabling bitch,</div><div style="text-align: left;">relieved to have a few minutes </div><div style="text-align: left;">of peace from their kids.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Never knowing (or acknowledging, </div><div style="text-align: left;">when they did come to know) </div><div style="text-align: left;">those minutes had been obtained at </div><div style="text-align: left;">a high price, were exchanged for a </div><div style="text-align: left;">lifetime of trauma for at least </div><div style="text-align: left;">one of those kids</div><div style="text-align: left;">they wanted relief from.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As an alleged adult</div><div style="text-align: left;">Christmas has continued its shitty record</div><div style="text-align: left;">of sad times and anniversaries</div><div style="text-align: left;">break ups and interventions</div><div style="text-align: left;">abandonment and financial devastation</div><div style="text-align: left;">deaths and births and abuses.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m too damn tired to tell you </div><div style="text-align: left;">all about those right now but…</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This year was no different. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For fuck’s sake, why can’t it be?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m gonna quit celebrating</div><div style="text-align: left;">or observing or </div><div style="text-align: left;">whatever the hell you call it.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It’s got to become just another day</div><div style="text-align: left;">in order to take the pain out of it</div><div style="text-align: left;">permanently.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And… I need to stay away from those people.</div><div style="text-align: left;">You know. </div><div style="text-align: left;">The surviving members of </div><div style="text-align: left;">those Christmas trauma trips.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">They sure aren’t doing me any favors, </div><div style="text-align: left;">60 years later.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-39840398932692107592024-01-02T19:57:00.003-07:002024-01-03T12:59:28.801-07:00Blood money<div style="text-align: left;">Those progenitors.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Still up to their old tricks,</div><div style="text-align: left;">trying to control what is</div><div style="text-align: left;">not theirs to control.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Laughing. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I just realized, </div><div style="text-align: left;">just how free I am!!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Free from what?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Well, for one…</div><div style="text-align: left;">I am free from </div><div style="text-align: left;">being chained to the</div><div style="text-align: left;">dirty dollars of</div><div style="text-align: left;">an inheritance.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I am free from lying</div><div style="text-align: left;">about the past and</div><div style="text-align: left;">about my upline’s</div><div style="text-align: left;">abusive and narcissistic</div><div style="text-align: left;">behaviors.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">(Being passive is pretty horrific too</div><div style="text-align: left;">in the right context.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Not acting still makes you </div><div style="text-align: left;">just as responsible, dude.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I am free from pretending to </div><div style="text-align: left;">believe in and worship the </div><div style="text-align: left;">religion fairytale.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I am free from having to </div><div style="text-align: left;">sacrifice my recovery to </div><div style="text-align: left;">enhance my bank account and assets.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I am free to continue to keep</div><div style="text-align: left;">my side of the street clean,</div><div style="text-align: left;">no matter what the rest</div><div style="text-align: left;">of them are doing.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I am free from pretending</div><div style="text-align: left;">that the people I am related</div><div style="text-align: left;">to by blood are family</div><div style="text-align: left;">in any way at all.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">(They’re not. </div><div style="text-align: left;">And now I really know it. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Thank God.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I think I like being</div><div style="text-align: left;">an orphan </div><div style="text-align: left;">and</div><div style="text-align: left;">an only child.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It is so freeing</div><div style="text-align: left;">to be finally </div><div style="text-align: left;">completely</div><div style="text-align: left;">done </div><div style="text-align: left;">with them.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Believe me.</div><div style="text-align: left;">What a relief.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-14508237606670400242023-09-17T17:36:00.002-06:002023-09-19T15:43:55.769-06:00almost autumnal equinox<div style="text-align: left;">The sunlight</div><div style="text-align: left;">from the sunset</div><div style="text-align: left;">reflects off the </div><div style="text-align: left;">white floor tile</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">yet another portal</div><div style="text-align: left;">to the past</div><div style="text-align: left;">the recall</div><div style="text-align: left;">of other, similar moments</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The reflection</div><div style="text-align: left;">brings a strong cascade of</div><div style="text-align: left;">memories</div><div style="text-align: left;">of other scattered </div><div style="text-align: left;">early fall evenings</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">That light is </div><div style="text-align: left;">always was</div><div style="text-align: left;">infused</div><div style="text-align: left;">in all times</div><div style="text-align: left;">with love</div><div style="text-align: left;">joy</div><div style="text-align: left;">contentment</div><div style="text-align: left;">of the many times</div><div style="text-align: left;">when happiness briefly peered</div><div style="text-align: left;">out of the </div><div style="text-align: left;">shit of childhood</div><div style="text-align: left;">or adult miasma.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">A small child</div><div style="text-align: left;">wondering at the light</div><div style="text-align: left;">touching her skin</div><div style="text-align: left;">still warm</div><div style="text-align: left;">even after a bounce off </div><div style="text-align: left;">the cool floor</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">A teenager</div><div style="text-align: left;">on a Sunday evening</div><div style="text-align: left;">cautiously reflecting on</div><div style="text-align: left;">Monday school</div><div style="text-align: left;">the boy she hopelessly liked</div><div style="text-align: left;">it sure was hopeless</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> (what I wouldn’t give </div><div style="text-align: left;"> to feel that now</div><div style="text-align: left;"> even the hopelessness</div><div style="text-align: left;"> would be welcome because </div><div style="text-align: left;"> even then, </div><div style="text-align: left;"> even that emotion was</div><div style="text-align: left;"> so full of life</div><div style="text-align: left;"> and the possibility of</div><div style="text-align: left;"> hope, anyway….)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As a young woman</div><div style="text-align: left;">almost recovered from </div><div style="text-align: left;">the weekend’s festivities</div><div style="text-align: left;">but relishing her youth and freedom</div><div style="text-align: left;">while loathing the hangover</div><div style="text-align: left;">and the losers</div><div style="text-align: left;">as the evening glow </div><div style="text-align: left;">reminded and healed.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Then</div><div style="text-align: left;">now </div><div style="text-align: left;">the autumn years</div><div style="text-align: left;">mingled with autumn days….</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Here’s that light again</div><div style="text-align: left;">softly sweetly glowing </div><div style="text-align: left;">on past and present</div><div style="text-align: left;">the magic still happening</div><div style="text-align: left;">but almost unexplainable</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Now yet seeing others,</div><div style="text-align: left;">already gone</div><div style="text-align: left;">peering back</div><div style="text-align: left;">part of the light</div><div style="text-align: left;">their own light blending</div><div style="text-align: left;">bending</div><div style="text-align: left;">quietly</div><div style="text-align: left;">patiently.</div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-15214498634699463942023-09-07T08:40:00.002-06:002023-09-07T08:40:48.721-06:00The passing away<div style="text-align: left;">One of my old tormentors</div><div style="text-align: left;">died recently.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Spotting his obituary</div><div style="text-align: left;">gave me a few moments of </div><div style="text-align: left;">satisfaction</div><div style="text-align: left;">followed by</div><div style="text-align: left;">the old grief and rage.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">He never did acknowledge</div><div style="text-align: left;">the wrong he did to me and others</div><div style="text-align: left;">which, of course</div><div style="text-align: left;">meant that he never made amends</div><div style="text-align: left;">or tried to heal</div><div style="text-align: left;">the hurts.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">An interesting choice</div><div style="text-align: left;">for someone who was</div><div style="text-align: left;">allegedly </div><div style="text-align: left;">a healer.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But I will pray for him</div><div style="text-align: left;">but only to continue </div><div style="text-align: left;">to release myself</div><div style="text-align: left;">from that old pain</div><div style="text-align: left;">and from the incredibly </div><div style="text-align: left;">blunt disrespect</div><div style="text-align: left;">and disregard</div><div style="text-align: left;">he showed me</div><div style="text-align: left;">every day</div><div style="text-align: left;">I had to interact with him.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">That work relationship </div><div style="text-align: left;">dramatically changed </div><div style="text-align: left;">my faith</div><div style="text-align: left;">my identity</div><div style="text-align: left;">my parental status</div><div style="text-align: left;">my relationship with my folks</div><div style="text-align: left;">my community</div><div style="text-align: left;">and </div><div style="text-align: left;">altered my use of alcohol</div><div style="text-align: left;">forever.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Those changes definitely weren’t</div><div style="text-align: left;">always for the better,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">though the blessing of </div><div style="text-align: left;">my daughter</div><div style="text-align: left;">her presence in my life</div><div style="text-align: left;">did come out of </div><div style="text-align: left;">that time.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">God, he made me hate and </div><div style="text-align: left;">doubt myself.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Unforgivable behavior towards</div><div style="text-align: left;">someone</div><div style="text-align: left;">already struggling with</div><div style="text-align: left;">that same shit from </div><div style="text-align: left;">childhood.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Predators be predators…</div><div style="text-align: left;">they always find victims.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It’s still hard for me to accept that </div><div style="text-align: left;">such wonderfulness, a blessed baby,</div><div style="text-align: left;">could be a partial result of such evil.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And he was evil.</div><div style="text-align: left;">There’s absolutely no doubt about that.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Whatever good he allegedly did</div><div style="text-align: left;">never EVER made up for the </div><div style="text-align: left;">blatantly abusive behavior and </div><div style="text-align: left;">bigoted, discriminatory attitude.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">God speed to him.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">(Hahaha.)</div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-42462093692497464652023-09-02T15:48:00.000-06:002023-09-02T15:48:55.346-06:00What is love?<div style="text-align: left;">I’ve been obsessed</div><div style="text-align: left;">pathetically and pitifully</div><div style="text-align: left;"> codependent </div><div style="text-align: left;">used</div><div style="text-align: left;">abusively cherished</div><div style="text-align: left;">coldly manipulative/ed</div><div style="text-align: left;">tearfully compulsive </div><div style="text-align: left;">resignedly involved </div><div style="text-align: left;">desperately willing </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> but</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I don’t think I’ve ever </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> been in love.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After decades of</div><div style="text-align: left;">counseling and recovery</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I don’t even know what that emotion is</div><div style="text-align: left;">I know what I thought it was</div><div style="text-align: left;">what I was told it was</div><div style="text-align: left;"> what what what.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I finally came to understand</div><div style="text-align: left;">that whatever I have felt</div><div style="text-align: left;"> it wasn’t love</div><div style="text-align: left;">and I haven’t felt it</div><div style="text-align: left;">for a romantic partner</div><div style="text-align: left;">ever.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Even my own family of origin </div><div style="text-align: left;">hasn’t been much of a role model</div><div style="text-align: left;">for that emotion</div><div style="text-align: left;">with all of their own </div><div style="text-align: left;"> dysfunction and trauma.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Overall, the idea of </div><div style="text-align: left;">love seems</div><div style="text-align: left;">unreal to me,</div><div style="text-align: left;">a commercial or</div><div style="text-align: left;">religious </div><div style="text-align: left;">fairytale</div><div style="text-align: left;">or justification,</div><div style="text-align: left;">peddled as an excuse</div><div style="text-align: left;">to control others,</div><div style="text-align: left;">especially men</div><div style="text-align: left;">controlling women.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We/women are so</div><div style="text-align: left;">brainwashed by</div><div style="text-align: left;">that shit!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">WHY does love seem so</div><div style="text-align: left;">transactional </div><div style="text-align: left;">(rather than emotional)</div><div style="text-align: left;">to me?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I do know</div><div style="text-align: left;">that </div><div style="text-align: left;">at this time </div><div style="text-align: left;">there doesn’t </div><div style="text-align: left;">seem to be much room or interest</div><div style="text-align: left;">in my heart or mind</div><div style="text-align: left;">to trust someone, </div><div style="text-align: left;">to give them access to</div><div style="text-align: left;">my body</div><div style="text-align: left;">or </div><div style="text-align: left;">my life</div><div style="text-align: left;">on that level,</div><div style="text-align: left;">let alone exploring </div><div style="text-align: left;">an emotion</div><div style="text-align: left;">I don’t even know how to feel</div><div style="text-align: left;">or even really believe </div><div style="text-align: left;">is real.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Even if I were willing, </div><div style="text-align: left;"> how the heck would I</div><div style="text-align: left;">meet someone</div><div style="text-align: left;">anyway?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://youtu.be/HEXWRTEbj1I?si=ILxqEbeVHhsJsUMa"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">“What is love?” by Halladay</span></i></a></div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-77493778767342992452023-08-21T18:55:00.000-06:002023-08-21T18:55:09.300-06:00Daddy blues<div style="text-align: left;">It’s okay</div><div style="text-align: left;">to let go</div><div style="text-align: left;">to be ready</div><div style="text-align: left;">or, maybe, </div><div style="text-align: left;">not ready.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Your bride is waiting</div><div style="text-align: left;">your parents</div><div style="text-align: left;">your god</div><div style="text-align: left;">countless others who</div><div style="text-align: left;">preceded you</div><div style="text-align: left;">now</div><div style="text-align: left;">eagerly excited </div><div style="text-align: left;">to have you </div><div style="text-align: left;">there </div><div style="text-align: left;">though still </div><div style="text-align: left;">it is</div><div style="text-align: left;">oh too soon</div><div style="text-align: left;">for those of us</div><div style="text-align: left;">left behind </div><div style="text-align: left;">yet again.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Quietly watching</div><div style="text-align: left;">from a chosen distance</div><div style="text-align: left;">the slow fade out</div><div style="text-align: left;">the gentle preparation for</div><div style="text-align: left;">the journey of</div><div style="text-align: left;">your lifetime</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Quietly mourning </div><div style="text-align: left;">as I already have been</div><div style="text-align: left;">for most of my life.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Wishing the sadness </div><div style="text-align: left;">and suffering </div><div style="text-align: left;">were less for</div><div style="text-align: left;">all of us</div><div style="text-align: left;">but knowing </div><div style="text-align: left;">that all</div><div style="text-align: left;">happens as it should.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I’ll miss you</div><div style="text-align: left;">but not as much</div><div style="text-align: left;">as I could have.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-22258977603789120192023-08-02T13:19:00.001-06:002023-09-08T15:07:46.124-06:00the door slam<div style="text-align: left;">did you hear that?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">oh.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">there it is again!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">(OK, the second time </div><div style="text-align: left;">I slammed it again,</div><div style="text-align: left;">just to make a point.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So what did you all </div><div style="text-align: left;">just hear?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It’s the </div><div style="text-align: left;">good old</div><div style="text-align: left;">introvert</div><div style="text-align: left;">door slam.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It happens when</div><div style="text-align: left;">someone </div><div style="text-align: left;">has had</div><div style="text-align: left;">enough of</div><div style="text-align: left;">someone else’s </div><div style="text-align: left;">shit.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Especially when</div><div style="text-align: left;">that second someone</div><div style="text-align: left;">is a fucking </div><div style="text-align: left;">narcissist.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m done, Missouri.</div><div style="text-align: left;">You hear me?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/6F5c58TMEs1byxUstkzVeM?si=p8QNz_50TpSpGoJP3qTSOg&context=spotify%3Aplaylist%3A7xoTAMjlk1xc4Bq4PYRS9D" target="_blank"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">“Roar” by Katy Perry</span></i></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://introvertdear.com/news/infj-door-slam-things-you-should-know/"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The Infj Door Slam</i></span></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-50922228699183370522023-07-28T19:19:00.003-06:002023-07-28T19:30:59.630-06:00oh, that familiar old abandonment…<div style="text-align: left;">The woman has been dead 13 years.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yet she is still hurting me </div><div style="text-align: left;">through my sisters </div><div style="text-align: left;">in whom her abusive </div><div style="text-align: left;">and abandoning selfishness</div><div style="text-align: left;">lives on.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I don’t know why I continue to</div><div style="text-align: left;">hopebelieve that<br />it’s going to be differentbetter<br />now that her body<br />is rotting in the ground.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Like her father before her, <br />my mother’s narcissistic evil </div><div style="text-align: left;">continues to thrive<br />in her flying monkeys,<br />my evidently former siblings.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I am forced to face</div><div style="text-align: left;">the reality </div><div style="text-align: left;">once again that</div><div style="text-align: left;">I have no family.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Why WHY do they keep excluding me<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">ignoring me<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">not including me</div><div style="text-align: left;">as part of the family?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I’ve done the work, made the amends,</div><div style="text-align: left;">and now lead</div><div style="text-align: left;">a better, healed sober life.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As it has always been,</div><div style="text-align: left;">it’s never good enough.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And yet…</div><div style="text-align: left;">I have no family.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The recurrent grief</div><div style="text-align: left;">is a gut punch </div><div style="text-align: left;">every time.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div>My innocent inner children<br />have never quit crying<br />even when I have <br />been hopeful of healing.<br /><br /></div><div>Despite their innocence,<br />they know better.<br />They never forgot.</div><div><br /></div><div>and why WHY am I so surprised?</div><div><br /></div><div>My family of origin is microcosm</div><div>of the larger world at present </div><div>that is busy </div><div>legislating and judging and prosecuting</div><div>harming and abandoning and raping</div><div>robbing and disregarding and murdering</div><div>any and all who don’t </div><div>fit their worldview</div><div>who dare to be</div><div>their truest selves.</div><div><br /></div><div>why am I so surprised?</div><div><br /></div><div>I have never fit in anywhere.</div><div>I have completely stopped trying.</div><div><br /></div><div>why bother?</div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-43431880894687701712023-06-24T14:25:00.001-06:002023-06-24T14:26:11.406-06:00The double bind<div style="text-align: left;">The challenge and dichotomy of <br />having inner children <br />living in tandem<br />with the adult me<br />often reveals itself in </div><div style="text-align: left;">how we deal with<br />and perceive<br />perpetrators.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Together, we struggle<br />to arrive at </div><div style="text-align: left;">place of peace<br />where we can<br />live with each other<br />in our shared mind<br />without going crazy.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Three weeks ago, after<br />sitting through eight hours of <br />jury selection questioning</div><div style="text-align: left;">for an incest/rape trial,<br />the inner kids grabbed the wheel and <br />we regressed for two days<br />of tears, memories, illness, and body pain.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">At about the same time<br />an extended family member </div><div style="text-align: left;">was discovered to have been</div><div style="text-align: left;">molesting an even younger family member.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">My response to second situation</div><div style="text-align: left;">was not trauma and regression.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />It consisted of</div><div style="text-align: left;">several stages…</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /> wondering who had harmed the young perpetrator<br /> worry for the trauma and damage to the young victim</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">and </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /> crushing depression and fear for how quickly<br /> three families were hurt and torn apart, </div><div style="text-align: left;"> hurt and burned to the ground<br /> by this incident.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And yet<br />I wanted to protect the young perpetrator</div><div style="text-align: left;">I felt they should be given another chance</div><div style="text-align: left;">to live their life, to make amends,<br /><div>to heal<br />rather than being villainized and outcast <br />forever.</div><div><br />Incest and sexual abuse are hot button topics</div><div>in my family of origin</div><div>after generations and decades of <br />abuse<br />but</div><div>if we can’t stop the passing on <br />of the behavior<br />why couldn’t we then</div><div>pass on compassion<br />instead?</div><div><br />My inner children vigorously disagree.</div><div><br />I guess we’re just gonna have to live together </div><div>with this polarization, in this place.</div><div><br />Because the adult me, the healed me<br />who is not coming from a place of trauma<br />(after so many years of work and counseling and healing)<br />wants to reach out and give the young one<br />a chance to do life right <br />now</div><div>as long as the health and healing offered</div><div>(as part of the consequences of their actions)</div><div>is utilized by them.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel their abandonment<br />their pain<br />and even the fact that<br />they were betrayed too</div><div>by their extended family.<br /><br /></div><div>And I know what that leads to.<br />It doesn’t have to.</div><div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">Can we start the healing?<br /></div>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-21898768367036234962023-06-03T18:18:00.003-06:002023-06-03T18:20:49.107-06:00Just because (an epiphany)<div style="text-align: left;">Just because<br />you are mentally ill</div><div style="text-align: left;">doesn’t mean that </div><div style="text-align: left;">you could not possibly have </div><div style="text-align: left;">bad intentions.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Just because you say nice things<br />to my face</div><div style="text-align: left;">very sincerely </div><div style="text-align: left;">(BUT this is actually </div><div style="text-align: left;">gaslighting!)</div><div style="text-align: left;">doesn't mean </div><div style="text-align: left;">you weren’t actively </div><div style="text-align: left;">undermining me in </div><div style="text-align: left;">every other area.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I kind of knew</div><div style="text-align: left;">all along</div><div style="text-align: left;">(dang that ever present </div><div style="text-align: left;">self doubt)</div><div style="text-align: left;">but in my eagerness </div><div style="text-align: left;">to please</div><div style="text-align: left;">to fit in and</div><div style="text-align: left;">to be of service,</div><div style="text-align: left;">I dismissed </div><div style="text-align: left;">my misgivings,</div><div style="text-align: left;">my very </div><div style="text-align: left;">(always dead-on accurate)</div><div style="text-align: left;">intuition</div><div style="text-align: left;">about you.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But now NOW </div><div style="text-align: left;">I see clearly </div><div style="text-align: left;">see it, </div><div style="text-align: left;">SEE you.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As I think back over </div><div style="text-align: left;">the last almost two years,</div><div style="text-align: left;">I realize</div><div style="text-align: left;">that I have been </div><div style="text-align: left;">working with </div><div style="text-align: left;">the most cunning and </div><div style="text-align: left;">polished</div><div style="text-align: left;">narcissist I have </div><div style="text-align: left;">ever met</div><div style="text-align: left;">and because </div><div style="text-align: left;">I did not recognize you,</div><div style="text-align: left;">in the fog of your</div><div style="text-align: left;">blandishments and </div><div style="text-align: left;">bullshit and </div><div style="text-align: left;">oh-so-cunning </div><div style="text-align: left;">manipulations, </div><div style="text-align: left;">you <i>almost</i> destroyed me.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But,</div><div style="text-align: left;">like all of your kind,</div><div style="text-align: left;">you cannot sustain either</div><div style="text-align: left;">the destructive behavior</div><div style="text-align: left;">and false assurances,</div><div style="text-align: left;">the hoovering of other’s</div><div style="text-align: left;">tears and smiles,</div><div style="text-align: left;">rage and laughter</div><div style="text-align: left;">(all often generated </div><div style="text-align: left;">by you),</div><div style="text-align: left;">while you smugly</div><div style="text-align: left;">sit back </div><div style="text-align: left;">with your sycophants </div><div style="text-align: left;">and feed and</div><div style="text-align: left;">grow fat(ter) on</div><div style="text-align: left;">other’s fear and </div><div style="text-align: left;">misfortune and</div><div style="text-align: left;">confusion.</div><div style="text-align: left;">and trusting lack of</div><div style="text-align: left;">self awareness.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And so you leave </div><div style="text-align: left;">to find </div><div style="text-align: left;">new victims,</div><div style="text-align: left;">new energy sources,</div><div style="text-align: left;">new flying monkeys,</div><div style="text-align: left;">before you are </div><div style="text-align: left;">completely unmasked </div><div style="text-align: left;">here, </div><div style="text-align: left;">though you would,</div><div style="text-align: left;">of course,</div><div style="text-align: left;">heatedly deny </div><div style="text-align: left;">(and! attack! me!)</div><div style="text-align: left;">any and all assessments </div><div style="text-align: left;">and conclusions</div><div style="text-align: left;">spoken aloud by me,</div><div style="text-align: left;">though you know </div><div style="text-align: left;">that I know</div><div style="text-align: left;">and I know that </div><div style="text-align: left;">you know that </div><div style="text-align: left;">I know</div><div style="text-align: left;">now.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And the saddest part is</div><div style="text-align: left;">that I will not be</div><div style="text-align: left;">the only one</div><div style="text-align: left;">gratefully healing in</div><div style="text-align: left;">the relieved void</div><div style="text-align: left;">you will leave</div><div style="text-align: left;">in your self-righteous </div><div style="text-align: left;">delusional</div><div style="text-align: left;">wake</div><div style="text-align: left;">though most will </div><div style="text-align: left;">never understand</div><div style="text-align: left;">what hit us.</div><p><i><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://narcsite.com/" target="_blank">“Knowing the Narcissist”</a></span></b></i></p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-73627605852969932602023-05-27T14:03:00.004-06:002023-06-03T18:29:10.348-06:00Don’t tell…<div style="text-align: left;">I’ve often been asked<br />why I did not report<br />the times I was<br />sexually assaulted<br />as an adult.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Until now,<br />I had only known that<br />my silence was because of fear.</div><div style="text-align: left;">But I didn’t really know <br />the source of that fear<br />until today.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Watching a show on women <br />accused of <br />the false reporting of<br />sexual assault and <br />subsequently being imprisoned.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;">(Imagine being a rape victim</div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;">imprisoned for reporting your rapist!!)</div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: left;">I realized<br />at this moment <br />that<br />I never reported<br />what happened to me as an adult <br />because <br />I was a child sexually assaulted <br />many times, <br />as well as physically abused.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And no one ever believed me then<br />either<br />when I told.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">My most significant<br />childhood memory <br />is telling my mother</div><div style="text-align: left;">(when I was sixteen)</div><div style="text-align: left;">that her father was molesting us,</div><div style="text-align: left;">my five sisters and me.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I thought she was going to kill me</div><div style="text-align: left;">I can still see her enraged face, </div><div style="text-align: left;">her hands ripping the hair out of my head,</div><div style="text-align: left;">screaming at me because </div><div style="text-align: left;">I was </div><div style="text-align: left;">accusing a great man</div><div style="text-align: left;">of such heinous acts.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I was a lying whore, </div><div style="text-align: left;">in her estimation</div><div style="text-align: left;">for my imprudent words.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">An interesting assessment</div><div style="text-align: left;">as I was still technically</div><div style="text-align: left;">a virgin</div><div style="text-align: left;">at that point…</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;">(no thanks to her fucker of a father).</div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The kid me got the message:<br />don’t tell <br />or <br />you’ll be severely punished</div><div style="text-align: left;">or maybe even</div><div style="text-align: left;">die.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The adult me</div><div style="text-align: left;">got the message too.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The adult me</div><div style="text-align: left;">never told </div><div style="text-align: left;">either</div><div style="text-align: left;">though the world </div><div style="text-align: left;">did a thorough job of</div><div style="text-align: left;">punishing me</div><div style="text-align: left;">anyway.</div><p><i><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(“Victim/Suspect”, 2023, airing on Netflix)</span></b></i></p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-80231791133305604852023-05-22T19:36:00.000-06:002023-05-22T19:36:08.475-06:00Perfect attendance <p>As a kid, </p><p>I was super proud of </p><p>my stellar (outstanding unblemished)</p><p>school record.</p><p>I hated to miss school</p><p>because I liked it so much</p><p>(the alternative being</p><p>being at home-no thanks!)</p><p>I tended to get </p><p>good grades</p><p>too and</p><p>teachers always liked me </p><p>because I was pretty compliant</p><p>(they didn’t see </p><p>the submission to </p><p>a fearful home reality.)</p><p><br /></p><p>As an adult, I have </p><p>another</p><p>perfect </p><p>record</p><p>if only in</p><p>attracting and dating </p><p>the absolute biggest losers</p><p>the looniest narcissists </p><p>the most intensely predatory abusers.</p><p>Every time I think</p><p>I’ve escaped </p><p>my own legacy,</p><p>I manage to instead</p><p>prove myself </p><p>wrong </p><p>again.</p><p>Even after </p><p>a multiyear absence</p><p>from the dating scene,</p><p>it’s still only losers</p><p>all the way down.</p><p><b><i>“<span style="font-size: x-small;">Turtles all the way down” Sturgill Simpson:</span></i></b><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> <a href="https://youtu.be/LWx6csgGkg4">https://youtu.be/LWx6csgGkg4</a></span></i></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-88500623906368006252023-04-27T17:39:00.001-06:002023-04-27T17:39:25.501-06:00Megaphonic rage<p>They say my rage is</p><p>outsized </p><p>but I do not</p><p>think so.</p><p>So sick of the </p><p>fucking patriarchy </p><p>oppressing everyone </p><p>who is not the</p><p>white patriarchy.</p><p>Where is everyone else’s rage</p><p>at this stunning injustice?</p><p>How can anyone stay home</p><p>while this shit is going on</p><p>in our government and</p><p>our communities and</p><p>act like it’s no big deal or </p><p>that it’ll blow over?</p><p>How can you not see it, people?</p><p>How do you sit with it, sit still?</p><p>How do you sleep at night?</p><p>How do you live with yourself?</p><p>I keep wondering</p><p>am I crazy? or </p><p>is everyone else just </p><p>that passive or</p><p>that blind?</p><p>I cannot sit still or </p><p>be quiet when </p><p>other people are being </p><p>killed or </p><p>jailed or </p><p>beaten or </p><p>told they don’t have </p><p>a right to exist?</p><p>Especially women. </p><p>Any woman. </p><p>CIS or trans.</p><p>Don’t you know we’re next???</p><p><i><b><br /></b></i></p><p><i><b><span style="color: #ff00fe;">“<a href="https://youtu.be/eHGuWDzQpcM"><span style="color: #ff00fe;">Irrelevant” by Pink</span></a></span></b></i></p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-10613682506010708792023-03-26T19:25:00.001-06:002023-03-26T19:25:09.321-06:00a child! so heartless<p>you picked and pushed and shout-whispered </p><p>and screamed</p><p>and I cowered, trying to</p><p>listen and obey</p><p>yet the words and then</p><p>the slaps, belts, pvc pipe, spoons</p><p>joined together to batter me</p><p>lower and lower and lower</p><p>and then </p><p>when</p><p>I was as low as I </p><p> could </p><p> go,</p><p>you shrieked and hit, demanding</p><p>I not cower, cringe, whine, cry!!</p><p><br /></p><p>how could I not</p><p>with those double and triple</p><p>layers of double-bind</p><p>pressing cutting dehumanizing?</p><p><br /></p><p>how could you be so heartless?</p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-23815103518951001872023-02-09T19:26:00.001-07:002023-03-26T19:27:13.104-06:00nautical disappointment <p>I would give anything </p><p>almost </p><p>to come home to </p><p>that right person</p><p>that one </p><p><br /></p><p>you know what I mean </p><p><br /></p><p>even with the challenges </p><p>the hard work and hope</p><p>the inevitable sadness</p><p>and losses </p><p>but</p><p><br /></p><p>that ship has sailed </p><p><br /></p><p>unfortunately </p><p><br /></p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-27973738348812017622023-02-09T08:47:00.000-07:002023-02-09T08:47:13.813-07:00The Sadness<p>I grieve the unkindness</p><p>of everyone these days</p><p>but especially our lawmakers</p><p>especially my state ones.</p><p>Why is it necessary</p><p>to make so many new laws</p><p>to punish or control those </p><p>trying to have </p><p>personal power</p><p>or living their truth</p><p>or their identity?</p><p>Not to mention</p><p>further penalizing those</p><p>who are already severely</p><p>economically, spiritually, or physically </p><p>disadvantaged.</p><p>Why is this necessary?</p><p>It hurts so much.</p><p>It is so mentally devastating.</p><p>I am one of those people.</p><p>I know many of those people.</p><p>And I don’t understand what threat </p><p>we constitute to those other people,</p><p>those people making laws</p><p>except… that we want what they have.</p><p>And I’m not talking about money.</p><p>It hurts, and it saddens me</p><p>to the point where I spend every day, </p><p>feeling emotionally and physically </p><p>paralyzed</p><p>by the smug power</p><p>of those who have “it”,</p><p>especially those</p><p>who justify their actions </p><p>and choices</p><p>with the name of God.</p><p>My God is never that mean</p><p>and is, in fact, pretty damn inclusive.</p><p>Again I ask:</p><p>Why?</p><p><br /></p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-482550777344802492022-12-18T15:08:00.005-07:002022-12-18T15:10:51.886-07:00and…then…<p>I have to let go of what I thought I wanted.</p><p>I have to let go of what I hoped for.</p><p>I have to let go of what I was told was possible.</p><p>I have to let go of what I think I am entitled to.</p><p>I have to let go of how they told me it should be</p><p><br /></p><p>and </p><p><br /></p><p>see what really is</p><p><br /></p><p>and </p><p><br /></p><p>what could or might really be.</p><p><br /></p><p>So uncomfortable,</p><p>this in between place</p><p>of unknowing.</p><p><br /></p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3447541231998439757.post-17063420345004118732022-11-23T18:07:00.001-07:002022-11-23T18:07:59.966-07:00what then<p>always the one</p><p>helping everyone else</p><p>showing others the ways to </p><p>fix and validate and manage</p><p>even when nothing is coming back </p><p>then </p><p>the day comes</p><p>standing alone</p><p>no resources for self</p><p>no one to call</p><p>no one cares</p><p>they haven’t for decades </p><p>what then </p><p><br /></p><p>try to be friends</p><p>try to be a lover</p><p>try to be a good daughter, sister, employee</p><p>resounding failure</p><p>at all of the above</p><p>what then </p><p><br /></p><p>tired of trying </p><p>tired of always being the</p><p>one carrying the torch</p><p>communication is two way, usually</p><p>but when it’s not</p><p>what then</p><p>what then?</p>Wyoming Diva/SShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11542787549118166216noreply@blogger.com0