Mourning

Parental Alienation

Mourning
Time lost
Opportunities lost

My heart breaks
Every day
Watching you wait

I worry
Every day
That the sadness will take over
Engulf you too much

I am sad
For them
I know how no dad feels like
The echo is still painful

The border between
The three of you
Isn’t permanent
But it might as well be

The Mexican wall
Is her manipulation
As intangible as the other narcissist’s dream
But solid and prohibiting
All the same

They are lost on the other side
With no way to cross

Their covert and overt attempts
Scrambled
Under a gaslight burning so much oxigen
They can’t breathe anymore

Meanwhile you try to build wings
With duct tape so old it won’t hold anymore
Meanwhile you try to build a bridge
But the Lego bricks are brittle
Meanwhile you try to make a door
But the rusty hinges are jammed

You never know if they know
Off your attempts to scale the wall
You never know if they think
You abandoned them

That’s what’s on the propaganda channels
All day
All night
No matter how often they try to change the channel

They do not see your pain
They do not see your grief
They do not see your sadness
They do not see your broken hopes

The radio is too loud
There is some advertisement in-between the propaganda
Positive reinforcement with expensive presents
The media output is relentless
The words are vile

They cannot hear you hammer
They cannot hear you cry

In my own words

If I could
I would

In my own words

If you could hear
I would tell

In my own words

If you could feel empathy
I would make the effort

In my own words

If you actually could feel
Anything but hate

My words would be worthwhile

In my own words
Silence is what you hear

In my own words
Silence is what you feel

In my own words
Silence is what you fear

My silent words are worthwhile

Reap what you sow

I am fire and brimstone
I am thunder and lightning
I am the sharp edge of a katana
In postmodernist shackles of implausibility

I am volcano
I am whirlwind
I am warrior

I am your nightmares’ nightmare
I am beyond bounds
I run along the milky way
For a morning jog

I am primal scream
I am hurricane
I am hunter

I am chaos
I am creation
I am the unploughed field
The potential waiting

IT IS UP TO YOU

If the plants growing in the field
Are sweetcorn or thorns
If it rains blood
Or warm gentle drops nurture your soul

IT IS UP TO YOU
WHAT YOU SoW

Do you sow your fears?
Do you sow your nightmares?
OR
Do you sow your hopes and dreams with love?

Good old times

vintage dreams
of white fenced suburbs
pastels everywhere
in the garden
on the walls
vanilla life

suffocating nightmare
of monotony
the neighbour’s dog barked too loudly
you have no where to go
no where to be

you are lost
somewhere in your half-acre plot

Strange Befores

Strange befores
Aftermath in hindsight

Nothing
In the middle
But transient space

Familiar voices
In my head
Speak about regrets

Strange face
Old pictures
A me long gone

Nothing
Holds the wave of sadness
Could have beens
No more

Familiar pain
Throbbing
A sad song humming
Hope rising

Stranger me
Holding on to dear life
In a life long gone
Until my me broke free

With nowhere to go
Transient space

Fallen

I am me
Somewhere deep down
Like snowdrops
Green growth tries to break through layers of frozen can’ts

My stomach churns
The planted bulbs want to break free
And there is not enough space within me
For all that growth

I will have to become bigger
I will have to become more
I will have to become stronger
I will have to become me
I will have to heal

I forgive myself through space and time
I am fallen
I have landed
I have lost my sword
I yield my shield
I have fallen
Eons ago
I have fallen
Without worth
I have fallen

But never was lost
Never was unseen
Never did not belong

I was fallen
To come home

Unfolding

Like a cloak wrapped around me
To protect from your evil eye

White down
No sparkles
Edges a bit darkened from use

I feel the tug of their weight
On my back

My penance is over
I belong
I am home
I am strong
I am not alone
Unfolding

Their span is huge

A fragment of a second
Quantum jump
From penance
To acceptance

And suddenly there was their weight

My fiery sword lost for eons
Gleaming as if I just polished it

My voice ringing through time and space

Do you hear me?

Told you

Told you not to poke the bear
Told you not to eat the Cake
Told you not to play with them
Told you not to tread so loudly
Told you not to love your dad

Defended you against the bear
Saved you from becoming fat
Yelled at them for being mean
Taught you how to be considerate
Rewarded you for calling him names

Never told you bear was friend
Never told you cake makes happy
Never told you they are nice
Never told you that’s not how loud sounds
Never told you how much he loved you

You are mine
And mine alone
Therefore I can’t let you go
Go to be who you are meant to

So I told you
Told you not to
Told you not to do
Not to do
Whatever
Made you feel
Like you

Suffixes for Abuse

The prefixes you have for me
Usually start with fucking (insert derogatory term here)
You used them the moment you knew off me
Not anything about me–just off me

A threat to your carefully spun web of deceit
Of course you feel threatened by me
You cannot manipulate me
You cannot predict me

Your open threat:
‘Hands down I will win.’
Won’t work with me
I am healing–the noun
That means I am ripping off band-aids

Granddad always said:
‘Let air touch the wound to heal.’
Air, and light, and love
You won’t stop me loving them
You won’t stop me healing them

But you, you
For you I have given up
I have let go

And as of now
–after enduring years of your prefixes–
For you I have a suffix
May she rot in hell