NaPoWriMo...and beyond... Prosey poetry and free verse. Unapologetically real recovery. My words, my life, my experience.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Christmas past
The inner child weeps as
we decorate the tree,
her tears seeping down
my cheeks, at the
memories attached to
each ornament
some made
some given
some sad.
I gently hang
the tiny stocking
with her name,
remembering the
sisters who each have
one just like it with
names in glitter.
She misses them,
as I do, but contact isn't worth
the pain
that is always
delivered.
So many sad
childhood Christmases,
not about the presents
or lack of,
but about the annual message
delivered of
being
'less than'
'not good enough'
'bad'.
Never about anything
positive, only
negative.
Unkind, untrue words
spoken by
abusers
child molesters
parents
clergy,
undeservedly certain of
their goodness
rightness
righteousness.
We survived those
young years, to tell
our truth
and to make
joyful holidays
happen
now.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Sorry about your childhood Christmas memories. I was raised in a happy, joyful family with wonderful parents, supportive siblings and true sincere memories. I love Christmas time! Hopefully you will eventually find joy. Merry Christmas!
ReplyDeleteThank you! My life is good today - but my emotional past periodically sideswipes me.
Delete