Runaway

She sat lank hair falling into her face smelling of body odor and cigarette smoke. All she wanted to do was go home. She was so tired. She wanted a shower. She wanted her life to return to her. She did not like the person inside of her. Raging black beast with fear as a companion. She watched as other social workers left and still her mom did not arrive. When finally mom did she could not look at her. Did not want to see the anger. The disappointment that surely was etched in deep lines across her mom’s pursed lips. A single tear fell a small bit of moisture she rubbed into her jeans.
When had her life become so shit? No matter how hard she tried to remember there seemed to be no defining moment. No time she could put her finger to calendar and exclaim ‘aha it was June 3 1986 at three p.m. that my life turned to shit.’ Wishful thinking. There was nothing. One day there was this sense of dread deep within. A horror. A need to not be awake. Not alive. It was becoming overwhelming. It was just so much easier to ignore the warning signs that were knocking at the door. Had been knocking for awhile.
How could she explain? How could she tell her mom the horror she found herself in. A part played and played well. Once she mentioned something but when questions arose buried her face in a book easy escape.
That sense of horror. It builds and builds exploding with vicious words. Tried to banish the darkening thoughts in her mind by writing them out. Death was her constant companion. Her constant desire. Need. However blessed or cursed with an imagination that defied her…..she had been able to imagine herself in a coffin while her mother and sister looked down at her. The abject sorrow upon their faces and whispered ‘whys?’ were enough to convince her to write out her deadly dreams. And truth be told, it hurt like a son of a bitch and pain was not something she could handle.
She watched the second hand sweep around the clock. Saw the minute hand tick off each 60 second. 15 minutes passed before her mom appeared before her. Looking up all she saw was anger. Sever disappointment etched deep lines around pursed lips. There was no love. No sympathy. Seen through the eyes of a child long feeling forgotten.
‘I do not want to do this. You have left me with no choice. As of now…..I am giving up custody of you for a year.’
Shocked all she could do was stare at her mom. This was not happening. It could not be happening. Her mom leaving her behind. Once more she had sought safety, had reached out to be rebuffed. Tears filled her grey eyes, threatening to overflow as she reached out to her mom. Voice lost in the thickness of pain…..of rejection…..of love and need.
‘Mom please. I will be good. I promise. Please don’t leave me.’
Her mom walked out the door. As it closed behind her she leaned against the wall, hand to mouth to muffle the scream of pain that was trying to erupt. Never had she felt so useless as a mother. So incapable of caring for this child of hers. Long passed the time of hugs and kisses to skinned knees. Walking away shakily this was a defining moment. Scored in pain.
Jan. 2/20

Sweet Blessing

Motes of dust
dancing through the air
caught in gleaming sunbeam
laying on the floor
entranced
fingers held light
across tight belly
feeling the dance beneath my skin.
Time once was
I thought this day would never come
for well…..
age
health
wealth
all play a part in being
serene
peaceful
for implantation to take place.
I would look so longingly
at others
with bundles of joy in their arms
my heart breaking
for mine were empty
I did not feel the weight
the scent
the feel of a child asleep.
I have lost one
she bore a hole in my heart
that I strove to ignore
to deny
not her
but the pain that I felt
which no one explained
would be brutal
demoralizing
encompassing with no way out.
Now my miracle is at hand.
Any day now
I will meet
this child of mine…..
who I already love
who I already adore
who is a mystery
wrapped in a rose colored bow
that I cannot wait to snip.
©Nov. 13/19
This poem is based on the fact that I lost my daughter Christina 28 years ago tomorrow. I never thought that I was ever going to have a child of my own when 17 years later I discovered I was pregnant with Tember. To this day he is my miracle and masterpiece and yet I miss Christina every day.
Picture is my own.