Kaleidoscope Cracked

My vision is curled ribbons of tattered cloth torn from my heart.

Nothing else matters, waiting for the spinning to control my every move.

I falter and inch towards the corners of my mind for safety.

I can’t miss the sparkles which used to be in my eyes scattered on the floor and in the sofa cushions.

There is no recollection of my former self, only now.

Lazy poetry.

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Is this what Almost Over feels like?

He comes over and I chatter away nonstop 

He makes himself comfortable and the dogs greet him with a luxury of kisses

I suggest dinner and a movie, as we had planned but he says that he is not hungry but that I should order

He mentions money, that he needs to watch his – I do not need to watch mine. I attempt to diffuse any concern but can hear the wind steal my words.

He smokes in the bathroom, the “allowed spot” as it is raining outside. He spends too much time up and down between the sofa and the bathroom.

We have good conversation. Meaningful positive talk about family and emotions but remain distant. 

Distant both physically and emotionally.

I order in dinner and he spoons out some peanut butter. The dogs begin to eat and I believe that things are calm.

Before my food can arrive he requests that I call an Uber car for him to go back to his parent’s house. 

I ask that he please wait for my food to arrive, that he need not sit with me, and he begrudgedly agrees.

I smile and order his car, pretending that there is no problem. 

He tells me:

• that he is worried about his father’s health.

• that he is worried about his health

• that he is afraid that if he stays any longer he will screw things up

Then he tells me how he’s certain that I will hold this against him later; I smile (holding back my true feelings) and tell him that everything is fine.

I wonder what he thinks…

Are we married for convenience? 

A failsafe for when his parents pass away? 

Does he even feel anything romantic towards me? 

Is this what ALMOST OVER feels like? 

When neither of us has the nerve to say: “Let’s be best friends?“.

Terminal Grief

I have never been cured of my terminal grief

Each time that I believe that there is any chance, life kicks me in the teeth. 

I will never get over the loss of my father.

I will never get over the loss of my sister, Faith.

And now I add that I will never get over the loss of my fake family. 

I’ve been fooled and betrayed, the pain cuts through my soul. I should have know better, my father warned me and I failed to listen.

My failures add up so high that the sun is no longer visible from where I sit. 

My two sweet dogs keep me together when I drop to my knees. 

Meanwhile, my estranged husband works on my emotions day and night, never allowing me any time to heal.

Terminal grief does not kill, it is not lethal. 

It simply leaves you hollow and wondering for the rest of your days.

Showing Yourselves

The time has come and you are showing yourselves. You are two-faced, mean and ugly. 

I have been fooled by the magical illusion of a “family” that I would never truly be a member.

It is amazing how quickly you all have turned your backs on me. You tell lies and spin tales in an effort to make the reality appear far different than the truth. 

Betrayed. 

I am wounded and need to hide away until I feel strong and safe.

His family will hurt any chances that we have for reconciliation. They will get far too involved and break apart the possibilities. 

A wall has already been built that will never be torn down.

Foolish Girl

The foolish girl believed that they were family. She felt comfortable enough to consider the woman her mother. What a childish notion.

She turned her back and when things became difficult the woman turned on her. The words were no longer soft and caring, rather they had sharp edges that cut at the girl’s bruised heart. Nobody was who they appeared to be; they never were at all.

Wait until his illness flairs up and they see what I’ve been dealing with for the past twenty years. Will they call me? Now that they’ve dismissed me, do I counter by walking away from helping them? Do I turn on them as they’ve turned on me?

Or, sit at home and feel the pain?

Another Day – Hiding

The heat is oppressive and so I’ve chosen to hide today. 

I am only leaving the house to walk my dogs. The walks are short as the “real feel” tops almost 100 degrees and the humidity makes it difficult to breathe.

I am a bit less lonely today, not to say that it is much of an improvement. 

The husband continues to call and I dodge about a third of his calls. He’s not pleased that I refuse to see him today but I need to stand by my words. 

It’s important that I set some boundaries. Every other day is more than enough, in fact, it is MORE than I should be seeing him. He is not getting well and I am not crawling out of this endless pit of depression. 

We need to work on our own problems on our own before we can fix what is left of our relationship. 

Speaking into an empty well. 

Screaming into the wind.

Wishing that my words could be heard.

The world is deaf!