In February 2020, I changed those locks.
I chose peace and said no means no to the man who raged and warred.
I’m getting tired of getting signals from outer space.
Now, I’m learning what it takes close this portal.
Monthly Archives: December 2023
He wept
To begin to understand this story, you first have to understand deeply the idea of being told for 20 years told that no one would believe you. I’ve recently came across writing from 2012, 2011, where the primary focus was the many ways a person was poised to villainize a mother of two young children and thus render her unbelievable and insane – and a whore. I wrote this sitting at Red Light, Red Light.
The second thing you need to understand deeply is is the idea of being the most accommodating at home during those 20 years so you don’t get the full unrelenting force of human wrath (which will continue until you relent anyway) so that you could spend the most amount of time becoming a strong, deeply feeling, generally kind (but no longer to the point of being a doormat — ever), passionate-about-life and finally-free-45-year old. I love who she has become, and I all the other kind human beings who helped her along the way.
We are allowed real tears and joy
and Peace on Earth.
“Quiet as It’s Kept”
When button-pushers push, if we fail to jump and cow’r
pied pipers collect – bones, fingers, first and second borns.
Fetal in a bed, Thich Naht Hahn played soft over smacks.
Weather’d belt half-round leather’d hand for failing to talk back.
Prayed peace but redeemed tonic immobility,
silent weeping, children playing dead, tossing turning.
When with hateful spite, whatever the sick sadist strikes,
there will be bruised thighs, broken-skinned bodies, clipped tongues.
Little children who dreamt frozen screams, quiet as kept,
stirred by wolves in sheepskin, wake full-adult, bellowing.
Social Media Friends
What’s it like to live life on the edge of memes?
I suffer from anxiety and depression that makes my insides recoil in the face of ruminating thought, which is where I get trapped because I am trapped.
I keep these little gifts and gifs because, when I know that someone understands, my stomach settles, and I can go on with my day and make it bright with sunbeam smiles.
Having had colorectal cancer and resection has left my insides like this — roiling and sick that manufactured drama becomes my drama and that it is beyond my control — nauseas, dry heaves for days.
It has become debilitating like this.
I’m not the same woman I once was who could hold abuse inside and carry on with my life as if the abuse not there.
I’m not the same woman, thankfully. The woman I was buried things deep so no one spun with me when poisoned plates were force fed.
So many people asked why they didn’t know. For them, I say, imagine speaking softly the terrible things being done to your family and watching the world drive by because there’s not much anyone can do. I drive by this way because there is nothing more I can do than actions I am already taking.
Thank you for sharing the things that we unknowingly share because my egg basket eases when my hand is held by a quote or a sentiment that screams “we are not alone” and “we are human in worlds not always humane.”
I’m not sad or mad or in a feeling. I’m dealing with reality while simultaneously praying for better days as I make better days.
The Tuning of Time
Before I continue telling this, I need to tell the reason for my timing. These are the reasons I’m advocating for freedom from abuse right now. 1. Our children are almost 15 and 17 years old. They are loving and … Continue reading
pseudo mujer liberada 