I imagine. . .
that some day
someone will start a fire in my heart again
it will be like the hearth in an igloo
warming me from the inside
while I remain outwardly icy
He will chip away
at my frozen exterior
saving the shavings in a paper cone
for one day when we will drizzle sugared syrup over it
and celebrate the melting
of me, the polar ice cap
Photo Credit: FreeDOOm deviant art
The disappointment of it
settles into my bones
a familiar ache
which leaves my heart
barely beating
loath to continue it’s syncopated dance
to the melody of hope
which is now silenced
How quickly and cruelly
some things are taken from us
Knowledge forced
though not desired
I now see the illusionist’s trick
Self deception
I was remiss in posting the following book review when I read this over two years ago, which means I can’t get more free books to review until I do, and since I’m a book whore, I am going to remedy this right now! So here it is, my review of “Mother, Mother” by Koren Zailckas.
** spoiler alert ** I was given this book on Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review. This contains spoilers!
Holy gaslighting Batman!! Didn’t take me long to figure out mother, mother, is crazy, crazy, in the form of narcissistic personality disorder. When you’ve had any type of relationship with a person who has NPD, as the author clearly states she has in her end notes, the signs are unmistakable.
NPD was the hook to keep me reading to find out what sort of sick, twisted crap Josephine would rain upon her family. And rain it did–bathing her 12 year old son, and brushing and flossing his teeth, and laying out his clothes, to having him diagnosed as autistic and with a seizure disorder to make herself look like a self-sacrificing mother; the “poor me” of doing everything for Rose, and her supposedly running away to be with her boyfriend Damien; Violet being the perfect scapegoat for all of Josephine’s troubles with her drug-induced erratic behavior and inability to conform to Josephine’s view of the ideal family.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and if my life would’ve allowed, I could’ve sat and read it cover to cover, just to find out if Josephine would get hers in the end. I like the way the story was told, from two very different points of view, switching between each for each chapter. Just the right length, with just enough information to give you clues and keep you guessing, this is a must read!
Seek and find me
amongst the noise, the chaos of my mind
Pathways of neurons,
littered with broken promises
Synapses firing,
on cruel words and fear of the unknown
Bring me your solitude,
overflowing the rim of a silver chalice,
to hold to my lips,
chapped by too many apologies,
uttered for being me
Lay your hand,
of kindness on my forehead,
feverish with desire of acceptance
and whisper,
a mantra of devotion in my ear
the emptiness
(I am an empty vessel)
is acute first thing in the morning
when all I wanted was for it
(the cavern of my heart)
to be filled by dreams in the night
(snapshots of what your love might feel like)
but my mind only knows
(harsh words and lies)
and can’t begin to conceive
(trust, respect, devotion)
and fear I am best left to
become a husk
It was the smell of old beer exhaled from lungs passing across a dip of Skoal that brought it all back. . .
hands tightening around my throat
threatening to stop the flow of precious air
knowing that he thought so little of me
that he didn’t care whether I lived or died
and that if he killed me he would feel no remorse
because he would believe
until his last breath
permeated with the smell of Bud Light and chew
that I deserved it
I pull you towards me
while simultaneously
pushing you away
because I know nothing
of Newton’s laws
or the laws of love
and my heart is a
complicated equation
not even Will Hunting can make sense of
a mathematical matrix
of which
the product of all my exponential experiences
is just unequivocally me
a chemistry experiment
of atoms
and salts
and reactions even I can’t predict
gone haywire
yet living as
the most perfect ball of energy
my heart has been replaced
by a large stone
which sits heavy in my chest
pumping only doubt and denial
viscous
fortifying
steeling my being
against the inevitable moment
when you decide
I’m not worth it
It’s frigid outside
just like it feels you are to me at times
I seek heat from you
the warmth of your words
and your body
though you often leave me
chilled to the bone
unsure if you will ever
bring me your fire again
My mind is a crowded city street at rush hour
chaos
cursing
honking
a gridlock of thoughts
caught in a traffic circle
going around
and around
and around
My mind searches for peace
dreams of vistas
where snow falls deep enough
to blot out all sound
a burning white spot in my brain
to erase the anxiety
which never seems to take a vacation day
Fiction, and other made-up stories
Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.
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