I won’t tell. I promise.

you are breaking me, still… 
wherever you are out there
still taking Peaces of me
did you know you were suppose to stop? 

you told me we were playing a game
I didn’t know the rules
didn’t know this game would last forever
what a good girl I have been

Shhh.
it’s ok though.
I won’t tell.
I promise.

I understand. I really do.
just put me back now. That’s all I ask. 
put my Peaces back together.
I need them, you see… 
I’m trying to figure it all out

Shhh….
It’s ok.
I won’t tell.
I promise.

you can leave the light off
I know my way around this game
I will quietly take my clothes and….
No, no. Please don’t touch!
really, I can do it myself
…and I won’t tell them you were here
none of you…

I promise…

Work B**ch

Crazies are back…. um, Tag, your it? Huh?
Are we playing a game?
I don’t have time for the Tom Ford suits?
LOL – I hit my limit, remember?

I really have issues and don’t feel well.
Is there a point to all of this?
I’m chasing several people right now…
Seems I have a blank space on Tuesdays?

I’m looking for validation.
It’s more than apparent I don’t do it for you
No BBMs for me, remember?
Tried that, Mr Grey, you ignored me.

Yeah, I don’t feel well and hate games
Doesn’t seem like it, I know.
But, you stepped out
No show, no pics, no heels?

Ya see, now I don’t care
Tom Ford suit and all.
Give me the uniform
Or, the closed door.

Now get to work, Bitch!

A Day to Be Alone…

I fought for you
but you never knew
and you still don’t.

You won’t because
I took care of you.

I fight every day
but I never knew
not until last night.

I keep myself hidden
… even from myself.

He comes back around again
he doesn’t know that I let him
he won’t know that it’s for you.

I am only wanting you
to see me… through his eyes.

You break me with
every gentle breath
with every word
you refuse to speak
then you bring me back.

with each kiss you
try to keep away from me
you pull me in tighter
and closer

I watched you behind that door
I listened and learned
how to twist it and turn it,

but you never saw me
did you?

Do you see me now
do you see what he does
what I do for him?

It’s just a game
I’m still trying to win your attention.

Do you see the way I like it
Or, how it hurts me
the anger, the tears, the scars?

They all belong to you
but I’m letting him claim them.

I have protected you my whole life
and I will continue to do so
because that is what I do.

I watched you behind that door
and I was scared for you too…

Naming the Storm

One word.
No
Two.

The Worst.
That’s your name.
Such a painful Storm.

But wasn’t it fun?
To see me again?
Feel me again?

I thought we’d both grown up.
After all…
It was you who said it was time.

Were you just desperate?
Ah, was she not giving it up?
Roll in and take it from me instead?

Sorry, you can’t hide the feelings anymore.
If you were just desperate
you’d have been back by now for more.

You’d take it again and again
But you can’t
I know that too well.

It’s ok, neither can I…
So I’ll just name you
and get it over with

and then the Anger will come…

She can sit in this mess.
She can and she has. 

Sitting in the bottom of this fish bowl
as the storm swirls above her

Tears waiting to rush out
Oh, God Damn…

Then the anger will come.
The problems will start… 

The fight unbelievable
Who wins out in the end?

She will name yet another storm
and one more scar to go with it

She wants them to go
Or needs them to go.

And, they will go.
It’s the right thing

Come and go…
Come and go…

Like the waves of the ocean,
Such a beautiful concept really

Such a dangerous adventure
What’s his name this time, beautiful girl?

White Magic

July 1972

“Honest, Dad, Will they really do that?”
Our six-year old asked softly,
And so I told her again to trust…
(Even butterflies are suspect nowadays!)

Under a late sun, with a wry smile,
Christ-like, bare arms straight out,
She calls silently to white butterflies,
Who one by one jitter to her warm brown skin.

Small angels, they each land and kiss her arms
Each kiss holding a promise of more to come
Patience rewarded, her smile broke the peace
As one and then another and another… flitted away.

July 2002 at 36 Eye to Eye

Each new day breeds perilous adventures
My daughter, now a woman, knows… very well
On this day, once again she sees her angels
Now on their mission to renew old ties!

Flowing freely, the same smile
Greets God’s tiny messengers.
The young woman suddenly stops
As one flits and flirts around her.

“Hello, old protector,” she whispers.
“I Thank you for what I see
When I look you in the eye…
God’s love …yes, God’s love for me!”

July 2013 At 47 Take the Walk

Always, there’re little angels waiting for you
To take the walk and stop when you see them.
Again… trust them… they will find you
Smile early… and simply reach out to them!

—Dad, July 2013

My dad wrote this for me. I lived in Chicago for about 10 years. I have struggled with “God” my entire life. I struggle with what I can’t see. I remember calling up my pastor when I was a little girl and asking where God came from. He told me it was sorta like baking a cake… cake batter… a little of this and a little of that. I got nothin’ from that.

I was really in the middle of a super sick episode in Chicago. I wasn’t sleeping well. I was trying everything I could at the time. I was walking the streets of Wrigleyville – usually around 4:30 am. It was summer, though, so it was daylight at the time. The white butterflies were out – not all of the time, but here and there. I walked the back streets mostly. In the back streets the – the alleys of Wrigley – there are a lot of gardens. The butterflies love them.

One morning… probably a few of the mornings I’d talk to myself (ok, I always talk to myself) and I’d argue with God. Question him. Yell a lot (in my head of course). The butterflies would show up at times that seemed like I might have been asking for some reassurance. It dawned on me at some point that maybe there was a connection between them showing up and me needing that reassurance… I would stop and smile a bit when I’d see them… my heart rate would go down… still does… That was 12 years ago.

Yesterday I was on a walk with Paisley, my basset hound. I’ve been feeling great lately. Head is clear. Heart is pounding faithfully without ache most of the time… but I experienced a loss recently – one that I actually initiated. It was much needed, but still painful. I was thinking about it on my walk. Sure enough… flit and flirt. There it was… there “HE” was??? I stopped for second. I smiled. Sure enough, my heart settled a bit and Paisley and I went on about our walk.

I don’t know that I actually believe in God. Obviously my father would like to believe that it’s the choice I have made with my butterflies. I must believe in something. And, I guess that’s all that matters… that there is something that gets us through those tough times or we’d never get through them. Maybe it’s just us! We are strong! We should be proud of ourselves for that. If no one else believes in us – we should!!!

Or, we could believe in our butterflies! 🙂

This is the beginning of the end

This is where I get hurt.
This is where you crush me into fine powder and toss me into the wind without a second thought… maybe it’s the third or forth… is it more than that at this point? I’ve lost count.

This is where I stop breathing.
This is where my insides lose track of bone and muscle and blood… all mixing into a thick, dark liquid dripping out through any opening possible leaving me unable to stand on my own two feet.

I know where we are.
I know it so painfully well… And yet I stand here and wait for it.

Every.
Single.
Time.

I stand right here and wait for it.

She chooses joy (throwback #3)

she lays curled in a ball in the corner of her bed
heart aching and trying to catch her breath
happiness surrounds her
she reaches for it – stops mid way
needing to establish which is better – happiness or pain?
most people never question which they prefer
it seems, they’ve been immersed in joy – they live joy – they choose it
she has lived in fear – she chooses against her will
she chooses against the demons in her head
she chooses joy

carefully she reaches out the rest of the way
slowly she pulls the happiness into her corner
feeling it in her hands she pauses once again
it’s familiar – where has she felt this before?
where did it go then? why did it leave?
is it worth the pain of losing it again?
pain is more familiar – more acceptable
she takes the risk – pulling it back into her body
she chooses against the demons in her head
she chooses joy

Hidden (throwback #2)

she can’t see the changes she’s made
they lay hidden behind memories of her past
he tells her to reach through and pull them out
she doesn’t think she knows the way

advice doesn’t come easily to her
they criticize, they mock her, so it seems
he wants her to hold on tight
she can’t believe she’s strong enough

she wonders when the ride will end
they sit back and laugh – sending her around again
he warns her to sit still
she doesn’t like the feeling of being in the moment

she looks around at all the many faces
they laugh and cry – they scream out her name
he tells her to ignore them
she doesn’t think she can

she can’t see the changes she’s made
they lay hidden behind memories of her past
he tells her to reach through and pull them out
she doesn’t think she knows the way

Pain (throwback #1)

i started this attack – triggered it with my own curiosity…
the need to feel someone else’s pain
now wrenched in my own
bleeding pain
breathing pain
breaking… go away!

growing tired, suddenly…
my mind sickeningly wishing not to leave this place
no talking, no writing… stay numb.
all of me living in its hell.
thoughts once racing now sit freezing in muck in my head…
it creeps into the pores of my logic
paralyzing what is good…

freezing out a rescue team of Lorazapam, Remeron and more.
eating away at the progress they have been protecting.
Shaking
breathing out but bringing very little back in
fists clenching – pushing, pulling
creating a diversion

nothing seems to succeed in this attempt to rid my body of …
this virus.
there is a key
is it sleep
is it tears
forgiveness of my sins
deliverance from the grips of hell?

breathing steadies
say it, say it again and again
start with ‘be’ and end with ‘done’
say it, spell it, sing it
slow it all down and then turn your back.
it’s not working.

it will.

the muck will melt leaving thoughts
ideas racing to destinations unknown.
no destinations, no explanations
to easy to cop out
let down
surrender control
sharing nothing

reminded that I started this disaster with eyes open and heart broken…

–Summer, 2000