My Inner Child is a Stubborn Little Bitch

Well, she’s not really a little bitch, but she is pretty damn stubborn.  Most days, I adore that little girl with her you-have-to-wash-them-out-cause-you-can’t-brush-them-out curls.  But, she led me down a treacherous trail to a marriage to an abusive and narcissistic psychopath because he made it okay for me to be angry and she needed that.  She now leads me around to date after date looking only to realize her little girl fantasies because she needs them to live outside my mind.  It isn’t her fault completely.  She’s just a little girl whose unmet needs and unresolved anger shaped me and nearly allowed my assured ruin.

She missed out on the family life she wanted, the one she felt she had a claim to.  Maybe, she did have a right to an expectation of a healthy and intact family life, but she didn’t get it.  Certainly, not in the package she wanted.  So, there it is…she missed out and someone was going to get her what she wants – that someone became me.

As a consequence of my unsettled anger, I made choices and sometimes fell into situations I do not believe I would have if my extreme emotions had been explored and set free.  But, no one was watching my downward spiral.  No one understood or even saw the effects of their actions on me.  So, I coped as most children did in the 70s and 80s before therapy was commonplace, alone and on my own – just being and not progressing through the damage and grief ensuing from my real and perceived abandonment due to my parents’ divorce.

Not being shown how to work through my pain in a safe and honest place, I became ripe prey for someone who knew how to influence a person tethered to her daddy issues.  He made it acceptable for me to have anger.  He did not help me through it of course.  That wasn’t his game plan.  Instead, he acknowledged it, which is all I ever wanted, but then he used it to exploit and manipulate me into believing he was all I would ever have and at least he wasn’t leaving so take what I could get.  He used my unreconciled past, among other things, to fence in the best of me.  And I existed and endured in that psychological prison for 21 years.

Since I put my freedom back on several years ago, the little one inside has brought up those unfulfilled desires.  She says, “Here’s my chance.  That maniac is gone.  Now, I can get what I’ve been waiting for all this time.  Let’s do it!”

But, she only looks out for herself.  I’m a means to an end for her.  She has all the gritty strength of mind and floods with optimism at the end of a select few of these dates while I get all the sorrow and disenchantment when things do not go according to her plans.  She’s – well, she’s a child.

I’m not angry at her, though.  I love her.  I really love her.  I know her pain.  I feel her pain.  Her pain is mine.  But, it’s in the past.  It’s not part of my present.  For me, it’s done.  For her, that’s all there is.

So, tonight, I will let her climb into the lap of my mind and I’ll hold her and stroke those stubborn curls as I try to persuade her though I may never be able to give her that which she believes she needs to be whole, she will never – not ever – be alone again.  And, maybe – just maybe – we can be whole together.

 

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Little Girl Lost

Tender couldn’t live in

the fray

of your decay

so I went away

became

your microphone

your telephone

your megaphone…

that?…

oh, that’s just the drone…

the vibration

of your words

clanging against my cords

your strings pulled

you pulling mine…

A wish not wished

A dream not dreamed

A life not lived…

shadow play

in plaid skirts

and saddle oxfords

doomsday in between

Lost Little Girl

skipping rope

skipping time

dripping tears

dripping rhyme

Tender couldn’t live in

the fray

of your decay

so she was saved for another day…

I was saved for another day.

Daddy’s Girl

Past the age of blushing girl…
but the day the world went
black and white
not past the grasp of memory.
How long have I shuffled
the colors that come
until they fall into the
absence that is black
or the encompassment of white?
Always looking past the expanse of possibility
between right or wrong…
Discounting the countless maybes
between yes or no…
Steering clear of the
too many paths to walk
between one way or the other…
But the colors are persistent
and I’d like to streak my world,
glide past the limit
into the what can’t be known
and encounter what lies
in the rainbow middle.
A nod from you
sets my pinwheel to spin.
I can nearly see the colors
as I blow past the silver wind.
The color of your impact
bears no name—
but the truth that it survives
well past the close of youth
and survives so strongly
bears witness
that I am forever a Daddy’s Girl.

It’s Official…I’m Free

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Yesterday was the best day of my new life. My divorce was finalized. My name was restored to me and given to my children as well. Those of you who have read at least a handful of my poems know enough about my life to understand that this was the moment I had prayed for, waited for, and fought for. So, I drove home after court and what was the first thing I did after being greeted in the driveway by high-fives and whoops and hollers from my children? I grabbed a tube of lipstick and wrote “Just Got Divorced” on the rear window of my van. It took another 2 tubes to get the side windows done and it was worth it! All day, I got horn blows, waves, smiles, laughs, congratulations, thumbs up, and even had a few people take pictures of my van as I drove by. All in all, it was an awesome day that I can’t imagine I will ever forget no matter how old I live to be. It was a long time coming and had a bigger impact on me than I had even anticipated. I mean, I knew it would be good, but I didn’t know it would feel that good. I still haven’t stopped smiling! From my Wild Heart to yours! Love you all much!

you don’t play well with Others

you don’t matter
nothing that you say
nothing that you said
nothing that you do
nothing that you did
shoved My face in the dirt a thousand times
stole My lunch money thousands upon thousands
you don’t matter
the bell has rung
you should go quietly…
but you won’t

The Clouds Are Calling

Your name is heavy
take it back
5 little letters
a living, leeching affliction
My throat closes
around it
every time I have to say it
mercifully striving
to save my ears
from hearing it
My eyes clench
every time I have to see it
mercifully striving
to save my mind
from its eventual scald
It could be innocent on its own,
I suppose,
but we’ll never know
because its
attached to you,
so it
reeks
rankles
rages
of layered guilt
it taints
me and mine
so I’m giving it back to you…
we all are…
I will strip away your
borrowed name
and watch its
black swirl as the
mouth of recompense
sucks it into its belly
So, take back your
heavy 5-lettered name
I can’t float while
wearing it
and
the
clouds
are
calling
my
name

Holly Hobbie Undone

Holly Hobbie puzzle undone on the floor
O’Jays singing in the background
“She Used to be My Girl”
I used to be your girl
My name called
My heart broken
The end leaves me shaken
The end leaves me shattered
But you were unhappy, unsatisfied, unfulfilled…
Restless
The price of your happiness cost me too much
But never mind, as long as you’re happy now
Are you satisfied, fulfilled?
Did you find peace?
I became hopeless, sullen, fearful…
Restless
But never mind, as long as you’re happy now
The needle on the O’Jay’s album fits into another groove
Song over
Holly Hobbie puzzle undone on the floor

Daisy Blossoms

This room isn’t big enough for me and your emotions
so you built a wall and put me on the other side.
The T.V. drones on.
Every now and then you’d remember I was supposed to be there and you’d peek to see if I still was.
Sometimes I was and sometimes I wasn’t.
It never really mattered which
as long as I seemed okay.
Appearances are important.
The sofa cushion sags beneath your sleepy weight.
I witnessed the pain you did not have the strength to hide
and it made me crumble inside.
Unable to deal with the tattered remnants of yourself,
I didn’t expect you to notice the scattered fragments that became me.
Flowers in the Attic lies open on the coffee table.
I blossom anyway.