The Constant Sound of Water

The constant sound of water distracts me from moving forward

I am in trapped in the mud created by the ceaseless downpour that comes from our relationship

Or, has it been brewing internally for more years than I can recall

Paralyzed by thoughts that won’t leave me alone, monsters that hide in the corners of my mind

A tortured soul inside of a fake smile that I wear like a cape

The endless sound of water is deafening and more often than not, I am grateful for the noise that distracts

Petrified of today

Regretting yesterday 

Crippled by tomorrow 


Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

Did you expect this to happen, for this to be my future? Certainly you could not have predicted that your family would have left me as well. Did you believe that I was really as strong as I pretended? I am not.

It is just me and my dogs now. Everyone else is an illusion, they will pretend for only so long as they need my assistance with him. They will act the part long enough to ease their lingering guilt. But in the end, I am alone.

I always believed, because you told me, that I was strong enough to be all alone. That I was a loner – but no, it was because I had you. 

Now I don’t have you. It’s just me and my dogs. Where are you? You promised! I love you and I trusted you. At fifty, such a child still.

Wherever you are please watch over me and make me strong – I need you and love you.

Always your daughter…

What If…

What if things were different and time hadn’t been such a thief…

What if my life changed, the players and the game as well…

What if I were honest, open and able to be free of my self-imposed chains…

What if the words trapped in my head and heart tumbled out into the world…

Would anything change 


Would it all stay the same

Freedom or chains

The Man Behind the Door

I have no clue who Is returning home tomorrow. The man that will enter our home is a mystery. I’ve no idea who the man behind the door will be and how he will react. 

I am frightened. 

Will he be the man of one year ago? Or will he rapidly turn back into the monster that had to be hospitalized, again. 

I don’t know that I can manage another breakdown on his part. In fact, I am quiet sure that it will be our demise. There is only so much that I can handle and my body and mind are rapidly betraying me. 

The entire world revolves around him. His mother gives me bullshit to keep me around and make me feel as though she is on my side. I am not stupid, she and her husband are far too sick. We all know that I am all that he has – his future. 

There is not one person in this group that has my needs in their world. None of them want the responsibility. They want HIM to be taken care of – no thought to my mental or physical health. 

The man who will walk in from behind the door tomorrow could be anyone. He is mine, there is no choice, I am alone and screaming into an empty well. 

I’m petrified. 

Eyes Closed Tight

I lay beside you with my eyes closed tight and I hold my breath. What has happened to us – or is just to me? Do you feel the change or am I in this all by myself, eyes closed tight. If I could recall when I began loathing myself than perhaps this riddle could be solved. If it were all about me and my eyes closed tight; but I fear that it is not. 

Our “team earth seeds” were meant to be planted in rich soil, tended to properly and grow into a kaliedascope of flowers. We had all of the necessary ingredients with the exception of the two. We became two teams of one, each quietly bending towards the dark of the moon rather than the brightness of the sunlight. Eyes closed tight, each of us had totally different views of our garden; they were nothing alike. After a while, nobody even bothered to keep the bugs from devouring what was left of the most magnificent of final few. 

Eyes closed tight, we both listened to what was either the smoke detector alerting us that the battery was failing OR that there was carbon monoxide in our house. I told him that I was not tall enough (even with a chair) to see the device. Eyes closed tight, he rolled over. I opened the balcony door and the noise stopped. Was it the battery or the air?  

This morning as I prepare to go out with a friend, I clearly say:  do NOT smoke in the house.  I explain last night’s scenario and he pretends to hear me. I will leave him a note and wake him again before my departure; praying that just for once, his eyes WILL NOT be closed tight. 

Fighting my instinct to fail my friend and babysit my sleeping husband. Doing everything I can to find some happiness. To find safety instead of having to wear a mask, a shell or carry my walls. 

Eyes closed tight. 


What God 

Steals my Father

My Cousin

My sweet baby hound

And now…

My best friend 


My Fairytale 

Once upon a time I believed in forever, miracles and pure joy. 

I would hide in my walled off room, pink canopy bed; and devour books. Each night dreaming of a future far from the evil Queen.

Each evening the King, would ride into the village simply to put the stars in the sky just for me. It would fill my heart and allow me another night of sleep. 

As I grew (and grew) displeasure expressed, I would go into the Kingdom late at night and take sweets to fill the expanding emptiness in my heart. 

The King showed displeasure in this behavior, disappointed in my girth. Still he put the moon and the stars in place for me each night; and reminded me that I was his Princess and that he would love me forever. 

As time passed the kingdom changed. Dragons appeared and the King was not always around to slay them. I was forced to learn how to defend myself. A good skill for a lone Princess but a sad one at best. 

Who would love a Ptincess who had to slay her own dragons? Who had no sibling Ptincesses to teach her how to prance around properly on horseback. Or brother Princes, to introduce her to their friends to court her despite any change in appearance. 

Princess developed a wonderful fantasy life, she wrote stories which never fell on another pair of eyes.  

Over time the Queen because more relentless each time the King would leave the Kingdom. She had finally given birth to a Prince! It was HER child and she allowed the Princess or the King near him. Unlike the King who could ride off whenever he chose, the Princess was left in a castle filled with fire and ice. 

Her stories became dark; they changed from tales into poems where the narrator would plead for help or freedom. Still her work was left unread, to show the King might upset him and that would break her heart. 

Each time the King would return from his journeys he would shower the Princess with love and attention. It was these moments of bliss that kept the Princess alive and safe from the Queen. 

Once I was “of age”, I was release from the castle and sent out into the world to make a life of my own. As no Prince had come to claim me, it was apparent that I was again, to slay my own dragons.

The world outside of the castle was far different than I had imagined, read in books or that my father had told me. In fact, there was little resemblance between the two. My dreams of being a writer and wearing long dresses that jingled when I walked were ubsurd. There was no place in the real world for poets and dreamers; it was too fast-paced and money was far more important than creativity. 

I looked to my father, the King, he had acquired his fortune working in the world of money. As I had refused his earlier offers to enter into his business; he thought it best that I attempt it “on my own – just as he did”. He groomed me as his prodigy right down to the struggle. 

Stubborn and desperate to please him, I worked tirelessly, a Princess in a King’s world. Luckily I was a pedigree; I knew exactly what to do and say to get ahead and please the Kings. I learned quickly.  I inherited my father’s intelligence, mixed with my own ability to write and moved up further than he or I had imagined. All of this was to please him – granted, there were days when I reveled in the power – but still my heart heard the jingling of my poet’s skirt. 

Fifteen years of my life I devoted to this industry, climbing and achieving – watching as the King beamed with pride. His joy transferred into mine, I was the least likely Princess to become successful in the world of Kings and money. 

Time, as the cliche says, is a thief. 

My father had left the evil Queen under a sourcer’s spell. She was far more devilish than the evil Queen. She could change her form from a dove to a dragon right before your very eyes. My father was blinded by her spell and I was too fearful of angering him that I never exposed his new more evil Queen. 

It was her goal to kill the King and steal all of his riches. She was as slow and cunning as a snake – moving carefully towards her prey:  my father. 

Then she struck!  It was devestating!  I was blinded and although I had slated enormous dragons, I had never seen a monster as cruel or large as her – she eclipsed all that was good and light. 

It took seven agonizing months for the evil serpent Queen to finish her task, but on a beautiful spring morning she murdered the King. My father was gone forever and with him, my heart broke wide open – never to be repaired. 

Five years have passed and there is no “happily ever after”. 

The Princess is still married to the soft but kind Prince from a family in another Kingdom. 

The Princess never had any children of her own, chiding two sweet dogs – one of which is in the heavens with her father already. 

I am the lonliest girl-woman, broken and alone in a room filled with people. Silently screaming, eternally panicked and unable to return to her previous life before I lost my father. 

There is writing but only into an abyss of strangers eyes. The days of slaying dragons are long gone, now simple tasks leave me crippled.  The strength is now in the stars and I am weak. 

This is my fairytale

All that is left is my sweet ailing love of a hound, my soft Prince and me: the Princess that used to be.